At first, it sounded so simple. We want a baby, so we'll have a baby. The gynecologist was literally thrilled during regular check-ups, saying everything was absolutely fine and that we would soon succeed. However, I had no idea what awaited me at the age of 24.
After six months of trying, luck smiled on us in the form of two lines on the pregnancy test. Unfortunately, the smile faded from our faces after a few days. Abdominal pain, heavy bleeding, and harsh words from the doctor in the emergency room: "The fetus shows no signs of life, you are young, don't cry..." I faced a several-day hospital visit followed by an urgent curettage. Everyone supported us, saying it's just bad luck and we'll soon succeed. After more and more months of disappointment, I tried practicing hormonal yoga and the Moses method, visited a fertility counselor, drank various teas, took lots of vitamins, went with my husband for a comprehensive health check-up, visited a Chinese medicine clinic, and underwent acupuncture. I even went to see a psychotherapist...
After two years, we finally decided to visit an assisted reproduction clinic. Initially, we underwent all possible tests, blood tests, genetics, etc., where we were subsequently informed that we were both perfectly healthy. This was followed by several unsuccessful inseminations until we reached the final stage, which was artificial insemination. I had to endure daily injections, administered by my husband because my fear of injections was stronger, along with ultrasound checks and medications. However, I reacted excessively to hormonal stimulation, causing my ovaries to produce 28 high-quality eggs. I was at risk of ovarian hyperstimulation syndrome, which unfortunately manifested itself. After anesthesia, when all the eggs were retrieved, I woke up in terrible pain, fainting, unable to stand or lie down. I had five pain relief drips, ultrasound checks, my husband by my side, but the pain didn't subside. Because I was "delaying" and other patients were waiting for procedures, I was asked to have my husband leave or try to go home. A few sips of Coca-Cola gave me a boost and helped me at least reach the car bent over. At home, I endured several days of agony. Intolerable abdominal and head pain, vomiting, inability to eat, shortness of breath, and crying. As a bonus, CAR called, saying that according to blood test results, I was at risk of thrombosis. Once again, I faced injections into my already swollen and bruised abdomen. After a few days, due to severe leg pain, I underwent examination at the hospital, where thrombosis was ruled out. Several ultrasound checks followed at CAR, where they regularly monitored my ovaries, each the size of two oranges. Due to the syndrome, embryo transfer (ET) was not possible. The doctors managed to "create" seven high-quality embryos, which needed to be frozen. After three months, when everything, including my mental state, had calmed down, a frozen embryo transfer (KET) was scheduled, meaning the embryo was inserted after ovulation without the need for hormonal treatment.
I still remember that strange prickling sensation in my abdomen when I lay for several tens of minutes on my stomach in the clinic after the embryo transfer. The first thing that came to my mind was that it had succeeded. After a few days, the line really started to appear, and we quietly rejoiced that this time it had worked out.
The pregnancy went somewhat strangely. At the beginning, I was scared by bleeding, which turned out to be a consequence of the embryo implantation. Our growing little bean was lively in there, considering its position at the end of the pelvis and the small amount of amniotic fluid. I felt every movement of the baby extremely. We both suspected that a girl would be born, which was confirmed at all check-ups. All tests and check-ups were fine; the baby on ultrasound got bigger and bigger, with 5 little fingers on each hand and foot. I struggled with frequent vomiting and loss of appetite (until about 25 weeks), which was then replaced by frequent tightening of the abdomen and premature contractions. Because of this, I visited the doctor more often than usual. However, at 33 weeks, the tightening of the abdomen turned into the beginning of labor. A frightened young doctor in the emergency room frightened both himself and us. The girl was at the end of the pelvis and premature. I was therefore urgently transported by ambulance to the Thomayer University Hospital, where I spent several days in the delivery room, pumped with all possible medications, both to stop the labor and to prepare our girl for a possible early arrival. I still hear the pain and cries of all the expectant mothers from the other rooms in my ears to this day; I still don't understand why I wasn't transferred to a regular room. Labor was successfully stopped, but at 36 weeks, everything repeated itself, except this time, the doctors decided not to stop the labor. It stopped on its own after two days.
Our daughter decided to come into the world at 38 weeks, when my water broke at two in the morning. The sound was like when a wine cork pops. Despite the lack of amniotic fluid, at that moment, it felt like an unstoppable stream of water. Contractions started practically immediately, so we didn't wait and went to the hospital. Given our previous situation with the young doctor in the emergency room, we changed hospitals and hastily arranged a delivery at FTN, where they supported me in a natural delivery at the end of the pelvis. They said our daughter was tiny, around 2kg, and it would be an easy and quick delivery. At that moment, I had no idea how far from the truth they were.
After several hours of strong back pain and contractions, the doctor recommended an epidural, saying that I had a long way to go, and with these pains, I wouldn't endure it. What a relief it was to rest. However, due to the rest, the contractions also stopped, so later, I was given oxytocin. The pain came like a torrential wave. I walked around the room crying, blood dripping from me like an animal; my husband helped me to the shower and on the birthing ball. By 3:30 in the afternoon, I was ready to give birth. The doctors precisely instructed when to push and when not to. It was unbearable and exhausting pain, accompanied by the doctors' screams, telling me what to do; I think there were about 8 of them there. When I thought I was at the end of my strength and cried that I couldn't handle it, the doctors encouraged me even more, shouting that I had to endure it, that the baby was almost born. After a while, they ran off with a little motionless body that didn't cry. At that moment, the darkest thoughts ran through my head, and I cursed myself for choosing the risky spontaneous delivery at the end of the pelvis. But after a few moments, the crying began, and my happy husband ran over, saying that after 15 hours of labor and 3 difficult years, we had a healthy, nearly 3.5kg girl. The first time I held the baby was during the stitching of the perineal tear. Then they took the baby and took me to the room, where a rough night began. Completely exhausted and hungry, I ate a snack and dinner, but I couldn't go to the toilet by myself. I fainted with the slightest attempts to get up, which I managed to do in the shower. This scenario repeated several times during the night, and as a bonus, additional glands formed when I pumped breast milk, which hurt extremely. They gave me my daughter the next afternoon when I had slightly recovered.
I would like to say that after all the hardships, it was love at first sight with that little bundle, but the trauma of childbirth took its toll, and I began to build love gradually at home. Our daughter helped me with everything to the maximum; she ate well, gained weight, and slept beautifully; she smiled from an early age. Thanks to that, I got myself together soon and enjoyed her beautiful company to the fullest. It was a battle from the beginning, but I love her above all else.
- Adéla F.
Comments