- Post Partum Refers to the time immediately after child birth - Pre Partum Refers to the time before birth which has its own traumas - Post Partum It usually lasts 6 to 8 weeks (but can be up to 1 year if there have been complications) - The mother's body recovers from pregnancy during that period and in doing so undergoes major hormonal, physical, and emotional adjustments

Dealing with Post Partum Trauma

Administrator
Jul 6
8 min read

Updated: 5 days ago

Introduction

I am sure you are thinking, having read my recent blogs, that all this girl does is complain. I can assure you that is not the case and each of my blogs are factual and recount what actually happened. Why does this blog go into so much detail and why am I recounting it? Because despite all of the trauma, there is a happy ending and I hope to demonstrate that with the right approach to mental crisis and the necessary coping techniques that I now practice daily, things can turn out ok, no matter the state of your mental health, before, during and after trauma. That’s the purpose of this blog so if you are scared, struggling with anxiety or like me suffered postnatal trauma, I hope you will find this useful and see the positives through all of the negatives.

What is Post Partum?

Post Partum Refers to the time immediately after child birth
Pre Partum Refers to the time before birth which has its own traumas
Post Partum It usually lasts 6 to 8 weeks (but can be up to 1 year if there have been complications)
The mother's body recovers from pregnancy during that period and in doing so undergoes major hormonal, physical, and emotional adjustments

Just the sort of triggers that can seriously impact mental health, so for those of us with mental health issues the post partum stage is not a time for the mother to be overlooked in favour of the child, both need equal amounts of care and attention.

Non Stop Worrying

I gave birth, via planned c-section, on the 8^th January 2026 to our beautiful daughter, Blake Louise. A moment I’d longed for in the middle of dark nights, a dream I’d manifested into reality many times and there she was 7lbs 3oz of utter perfection. After two previous miscarriages I didn’t think Blake would ever be real, ever be in my arms, yet there she was and I should’ve been grateful. Right?

That’s what I got told over and over again, from medical professionals, friends and some family “but she’s here safe and sound, she’s healthy so that’s all that matters really”

When I got two lines for the third time when trying to conceive, I knew that didn’t really mean anything at all. I’d had 50 positive tests with my first pregnancy and 100 with my second (testing became obsessional) but I still lost those babies at 7 and 9 weeks respectively. Early yes, but still a promise of the future taken away. After trawling mumsnet, netmums, babycentre and every other forum going, two lines showed you were pregnant, but the line progression doesn’t mean anything really and no amount of testing will change the outcome. There’s a well-known phrase on those forums “you’re pregnant today, don’t worry about what tomorrow brings.” But when you’ve lost two promises of the future you worry about tomorrow, the next week, the next month. Actually, you just worry full stop.

I went for a private scan at 8 weeks, in fact over the 9 months I went for several and I got really close to the sonographer. At about 22 weeks she said “Rachel, if you’re not careful you won’t bond with this baby, you’re not allowing yourself to now and you’re over half way through.” I thought she was talking rubbish, I respected her of course, but I wanted this baby more than I’d ever wanted anything in my life, I was so worried about losing her surely that meant I’d bonded with her beyond measure?

Due to my mental health issues that I’ve mentioned in my previous blogs and my antenatal anxiety, I was referred to perinatal mental health. I was told I was “lucky” I made it past the waiting list; they were so busy. I had an initial consultation with the lead of the service and a nursery nurse, I didn’t hear anything after that for about 3 weeks. Then the nursery nurse rang me, it was very rushed and she said she’d forgotten all they had planned for me but was I ok? I said, ‘no not really’ and was told that the lead would get back to me after her holiday and that was that. Said lead then turned up to my door on the wrong day and asked after me using the wrong name. Not surprisingly I lost all faith and didn’t engage with them again. Remember my point about how important it is to give child and mother equal attention !!!

Pre Partum Worries

My pregnancy wasn’t enjoyable, the constant worry about losing her plagued me every day, I got pelvic girdle pain at about 22 weeks, then in the last 5 weeks I developed excess fluid, hypertension, reduced movement and gestational diabetes so a section was planned for 37+5 weeks. My wife had had a planned section 2 years previously with our son. The whole experience was calm, beautiful, enjoyable even. Her recovery was relatively quick, and she had no complications apart from him being a big baby due to her own gestational diabetes that she got at 24 weeks. I thought my section would be similar, and it was, until it wasn’t!

I discovered I had fibroids after my first miscarriage, I had no idea I had them until that point and I was 38. I was told I had 3 that had grown to a decent size but the ‘couple’ of others I shouldn’t worry about. When you’re pregnant the amount of oestrogen in your body makes fibroids increase in size. When they tried to get Blake out my uterus was so distorted from the number and size of my fibroids that they couldn’t get hold of her. This resulted in a large ‘J’ shaped incision being made in my uterus and when they finally managed to get her out she wasn’t breathing. I didn’t get that beautiful ‘lion king’ moment when they hold your beautiful newborn over the screen, she was just whisked away and the hospital room flooded with purple uniforms, the paeds doctors.

I was beside myself, my worst fear was becoming a reality and I was going to lose her. Eventually, after what felt like forever I heard her cry.

That’s all I cared about, she’d made it. Little did I know they’d removed my uterus from my body to repair it and they couldn’t get it back in to my body. C sections can feel like someone is washing up in your stomach, this felt like I was being disembowelled on the waltzers. My amazing anaesthetist asked me several times if I wanted to be put under, but I refused, I wanted to be with my baby.

The postnatal ward was noisy and cramped, they have a 24 hour turn around and we left at 9.30am the next morning. I was in pain, but I was told c sections are painful, I heard that phrase a fair few times in the next week or so. I really could go to town here on all the times I was failed in the weeks after I gave birth but it would be a novel and not a blog so I will précis it the best I can.

Post Partum Problems

I presented at triage 3 times after I gave birth due to my high blood pressure. Each time I attended I mentioned that huge bruise I had on my stomach and how much pain I was in. I was treated for my blood pressure and was told that c sections are painful and bruising is normal. I showed them photos of my stomach but not one medical professional asked to see my now hematoma or examine me. They looked at the photos briefly and just said “normal”. A week later I returned and was admitted and given oral antibiotics and told the bruising on my stomach was from me injecting myself with the blood thinner clexane. I laughed when the registrar suggested that, I’m not a doctor, but I’m not stupid, I knew it had nothing to do with the clexane. I was sent home the next day to return in 3 days for a repeat blood test.

I didn’t make it the three days, I returned the following day as I felt like I was dying and was flagged immediately for sepsis. My c section wound was then swabbed which resulted in a litre of infection draining from my stomach. After being on a side room on the delivery suite, I was placed in a side room on the postnatal ward, surrounded by the noises of mothers with their newborns. I was a mother, very poorly and my newborn was at home. She was 8 days old. I spent the next week in that room away from my daughter, at times I felt like I was starring in my own “carry on birthing” film as the things that went on were laughable. From the cleaner using a dry mop in my room each day and starting in the bathroom, to them not giving me my bolus dose of IV antibiotics meaning I was never going to fight the infection, because apparently they “forgot”, to my mother become my wound dressing nurse who changed my dressings daily as the midwives were more than reluctant to do so.

I’ve since learnt that midwives have one lecture on dressings at university, one. The cherry on the cake though was the admission I was overdosed on the very strong antibiotic gentamicin. The dosage is based on ideal body weight, not actual body weight and apparently not a lot of the staff knew this. The side effects of a gentamicin overdose are hearing loss or worse deafness, kidney failure or in extreme cases, death.

The Trauma Continued

When I left the hospital I generally felt traumatised and so dissociated from reality.I then walked in to my new born at home and I felt like I didn’t know her. Her little noise cues and cries my wife picked up on and I didn’t know what she wanted or when. It broke my heart. I still had fluid leaking from me and I did do for a month after I got home, my wife then becoming my nurse and changing my dressings 3 times a day. I felt I’d been left in another side room, but this time I was at home.

Everyone talked about the baby bubble and how happy I must’ve been to be home, I smiled at appropriate times and nodded and agreed when inside I was panicking, I was riddled with anxiety and dread. My postnatal OCD kicked in but I managed to cope. I intend to do a blog on postnatal mental health in the coming weeks ahead. I decided to have a meeting with the hospital after making a formal complaint about the treatment I’d received, or lack there of.

The invisible mother

When the postnatal matron rang me to organise the time, I answered the phone and she said “Hi Rachel, how are you” to which I replied “fine thank you” she then said “oh sorry, forgive me I should be asking how Blake is” and that right there sums up my entire point. When you have a baby and you become a mother, the mother is invisible, her trauma is invisible and all that really matters is the baby. “She’s perfect” I said and my eyes filled with tears.

Part of my post level 4 qualification dream is to make mothers and women feel heard and feel seen when they have been through trauma. You are not lesser if you have had a baby, if you’ve been a surrogate or if you’ve had your baby adopted. You are still a woman and your trauma matters.

In my next blog I will talk about the techniques I used to get me through this period. I will talk about the Crisis Team and my experiences with them. In the meantime here is the latest image of my beautiful baby Blake. There is always meaning to be found in every crisis to get you through.