![No one will no longer mock me at the moment when I am one open wound: a personal story about frozen pregnancy 11711_1](/userfiles/22/11711_1.webp)
Rudeness and rudeness in female consultations and maternity hospitals - alas, usual. But it is impossible to call this phenomenon in no way, because it is part of the obstetric aggression, which world experts recognize the violation of the rights of a woman.
Our reader Ana Rozanova from Lithuania told about how she faced the verbal abuse after the first birth and how the frozen pregnancy and the participation that followed it with doctors helped her cope with this experience and survive him.
Mothers at any stage of the path - be it pregnancy, the process of childbirth or the first weeks of the house - remind me of an open wound. Any careless word may cause pain, while in another period of his life a woman would not pay attention to it.
In most hospitals, women have excellent medical care. The most difficult births that in the past would lead to death and mother, and the child is now usually completed successfully. But at the same time, with psychological support of business, it is often hardly worse than a hundred years ago. Roughness, ridicule, and just the coldness of doctors and personnel can turn the "magical experience" into severe memories.
My first births passed easily and rapidly. So rapidly that I myself did not understand how it turned out to be at home with an incomprehensible loved child and (as it turned out later) with the remnants of the placenta in the uterus. Bleeding did not stop in any way, their character changed, and in a week I returned to the hospital to the doctor who took birth.
After watching me, he blocked his tongue:
"We will make cleaning." I was afraid.
Operation, anesthesia, but what about the child?
"And what do you want? Further walk to stink? "
The operation went fast enough. A couple of hours after it I lasted on the bed covered with rubber sheets. With gauze between the legs. Then she got up and slowly dug to the exit. In the doorway, I heard the cluster of the cleaner, which was watching the sheets after me. I can't say with accuracy if this episode caused my postpartum depression, or it would start it. In any case, this memory is still one of the most bitter and humiliating in my life. Here I am lying on a chair with a broken leg.
I am alone and I'm scared, and the doctor with his hand inside I need to mock me.
Two years later, a completely different doctor in a completely different hospital diagnosed: "Pregnancy is frozen, and the fruit itself will not work, need cleaning."
Mount of the lost child, whom I did not know, but already loved, mixed with fear to repeat all the past experience: "Let's wait, can we do without cleaning?" We waited. And waited. And further. My body decided not to release anyone, so cleaning was inevitable.
I lay in a clean bed in the ward and waited for my turn. During this time, a nurse came to me three times. The first time she said that I could not eat and drink, because she could not bring me dinner, but she understands that I probably hungry. The second time she came to wish me good luck with the operation. And the third time I brought a glass of sweet strong hospital tea: "You still do not drink it. But as soon as you wake up after the operation, so that he immediately had. And then suddenly I will be busy and I can not immediately go. "
An hour before surgery, the doctor went to the ward. "After the operation, physically you feel good. But I understand that emotional recovery will take much longer. You will be very difficult, and bitter, and sad, "he said.
I looked at him with bewilderment. It was the first time when a gynecologist himself began to talk to me about feelings, and not about symptoms."You are hard now. I really feel sorry for you to survive it. But you are not alone, we will take care so that everything goes well. " And I replied: "I am very sad, and bitter, and hard." And burst out.
And I felt that inside me finally squeezed some firmly compressed com, which was there from the very first genera.
I'm not alone. We will take care of me. No one will no longer mock me at the moment when I am one open wound.
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