Ironically, the worst physical injury that I sustained happened while falling as I was going down a marble staircase. I was going too fast in ridiculous heels. My legs flew out from under me and I landed on what I thought was my tailbone. But things are never that simple, I herniated one disc and bulged another which caused compression on the nerve roots and sciatica pain (the kind that starts in you back and ends in one or both feet and includes everything in between). I was treated conservatively for about two years with traction and cortisone epidurals, this kept the pain “manageable”.
It was only when we decided that we were ready to be a family that I had the discussion with my specialist. Having a baby was the only acceptable reason to agree to allowing people to put you out and slice open your back and remove and replace bits of your spine. Have a hospital stay for five days and wear a plastic and metal back brace for six to eight weeks. All in the name of being able to manage pain while a little life can grow within me. Somehow it all seemed reasonable. So away I went.
The first surgery was ok – I came away with a 6 inch cut that started mid lower back and ended somewhere just around the crack of my butt – just imagine the view those surgeons had! I had a drain and a piece of foam glued to my back. When I awoke in ICU, I was told that all had been a success.
This is really hard to believe when you feel like you have been dragged by a truck through a cactus grove! I remember the little milestones… being able to lift my head, turn on my side. Yeah progress was slow but by day five, I could walk and even climb stairs!
Despite all the pain and recovery time, I did get better and was pain free for the first time in years! It was almost 8 weeks to the day that we discovered that I was 10 weeks pregnant. Sadly that meant that I was already a day or two pregnant when I had the operation that was to enable me to carry my babies to term. The irony was not lost on me then. Who knew that the early bleeding that I had experienced before the surgery was a sign of pregnancy rather than of menstruation! Well the test was positive but the scan was awful – my uterus, which should have been a perfectly round little ball looked like a “pacman”. My doctor frowned and looked at me worriedly, “It does not look great.” she said gently.
After qualitative blood counts showed no growth in the foetus, I was booked for a DNC. This procedure hurt so much more than back surgery- on an emotional level. I remember being so angry!
Everyone wants to make you feel better by telling you “you can have another baby”, totally missing the finer point. Sorry, never quite cut it, even when it was meant with the best of intentions. I could not have that baby! That baby had died and it was my fault for not knowing that I was pregnant and having a 4 hour back surgery and enough drugs for pain to kill a water buffalo! That baby was lost to us, forever. My heart was broken, ripped out and stomped on. All this, for what – why did this have to happen? What possible good could come out of this?
Haydn was sad too but he managed to get over it, way before I could. Even now, almost 15 years later I can so clearly remember feeling as lost, as that baby was lost to me. Even wishing I could have died along with my baby. Those were my darkest days, every time that I menstruated was a cruel reminder of the fact that I was not pregnant.
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