I’m a bit behind in my #30daybloggingchallenge – oops!
So, the worst injury I’ve ever had. Well. To my eternal shame, I have fallen flat on my face twice when slightly inebriated. The first time I knocked a tooth out (luckily it survived, after I had to wear a plastic mouthguard-of-shame for four weeks) the second time I had an almighty fat lip. So neither of those are especially serious.
I’ve been very lucky so far in my life. No broken bones, no sprains. I haven’t even had a filling.
I have had one rather serious injury when I think about it though, but for a long time I never thought of it as that. It’s not something I’ve ever really even wanted to speak about, and I’ve since tried to put it out of my mind. But as this is a challenge, then perhaps it is time to speak about it.
I suffered from a traumatic birth injury.
I have briefly mentioned it before, in my birth story, but it’s not something I’ve ever really gone back and really worked my way through. How horrific it actually was. I’m a bit of a trooper, I’d probably be half dead before I’d admit to needing anyone or anything. Him Indoors is always nagging me to have medicine when I’m ill, but I refuse citing the age old and no doubt entirely false adage “if I take it now it won’t work when I really need it” Stubborn as a mule apparently…
Anyway, I digress.
Toward the end of my 36 hour labour, I’d been pushing for three hours to no avail. Head was coming down, then popping straight back up. So out the pool I came, a catheter was finally used to relive my poor bladder (I’d not had a wee my entire labour!!) and the midwife very reluctantly gave me an episiotomy. This enabled me to start to deliver, but at the point when they tell you to stop pushing, my body gave an involuntary, massive push and Rian’s rapid arrival caused a very large tear alongside the cut, which ran *all* the way around…
I was bleeding heavily at this point, and almost immediately taken to the operating theatre where I was given en epidural. I promptly fell asleep on the table, but Mark later told me that it took them well over two hours to fix the damage. I was in hospital for two days.
I was given a lot of painkillers and antibiotics, so I wasn’t in a lot of pain, but I struggled to walk properly for almost six weeks. I was afraid of having sex, and the thought of having another baby was terrifying. I like to think it isn’t, but it probably is one of the main reasons Rian is an only child. I have made a full recovery, but it took me a very long time.
So yes, I have been injured, and I should probably cut myself some slack for it.