Don't Call me Mama (10) - Let me tell you something about E-PI-ZI-YO-TO-MEE

Happy new year to every single person reading this blog post. May the year 2018 bring you all your heart's desires and God's will for your life.

When I became pregnant, I read every single thing I could about pregnancy. I became a walking encyclopaedia. I read books, forums, apps, etc. As informed as I got myself to be, one thing I never paid much attention to was

EPISIOTOMY

I took it like one of those topics we skip in science subjects because we really don’t like them and hope they never show up in exam questions. And even when they show up, we find ways to avoid them because there are four other questions we can toy with, in the “answer three out of five” instruction we have been given. In our world, they don’t exist.

Because I did not take episiotomy seriously, it was not surprise that I never really prayed about it. To be honest, when I was informed that they would do an episiotomy on me because I was too small, I didn’t know the postpartum implications until they started taking place in my own body.

For those who don’t know, episiotomy is when the doctor tears you in your perineal region so they can bring the baby out easily. They usually perform this when the baby is too big to come through your vaginal area, and they don’t want the baby to tear you.

I consider episiotomy to be a caesarean section done on the vaginal area. Period!

After my labour, my epidural wore out, and a couple of hours later, I knew that there was something in the dictionary called PAIN. I was on heavy dose of pain medication every four hours. Urinating was hell, standing was hell, sitting was hell, I could not function without pain medication. I was literally looking at the clock to see when it was going to four hours from my last medication.

I got discharged almost two days from the day I walked into the hospital, and the degree of my suffering went to another level. I was in so much pain that I couldn’t use the other rest room, so I became constipated. Almost 48 hours after I walked out of the hospital, I went back to my doctors. I was in so much pain that I was crying as I explained my plight to the doctor. As far as I was concerned, my life was over.
It is funny how intense pain clouds our perspectives many times. After the doctor and nurse calmed me down, they examined the site of the episiotomy told me they were going to give me an extra stitch, but they would have to give me a numbing injection in that area first before they can stitch it.

My people, I died, went to heaven, and resurrected when I received the news. You mean that for me to stop going through this pain, I have to go through more pain??? They said it was important because the faeces that was pushing through the anal area because of the constipation was already finding its way to the perineal area and causing an infection.

I subjected myself through this hellish process which lasted for a bit 15 to 20 minutes. I was given an extra stitch, and told to go home. I had to stop breastfeeding for 3 days because the antibiotic I was told to use could affect my baby.  I went back home, and didn’t sit down for four days. I was constantly on my feet, either walking or standing. I slept face down, and if I had to check something in a book, document or laptop, I would kneel down to do it. The only place I was sitting was in the toilet.

I was constantly doing sitz bath, and sitting in bath tubs. The bath tub soaks were the only thing that calmed me. My mum took over childcare duties full time since I couldn’t nurse, and my legs were always tired.

Stool softeners became my new candy, yet I didn’t see any improvement. Day after day, I peeled away at the surface of the faeces exacting terrible pressure on my rectum, due to the laxatives and stool softeners. Five days later, the lord smiled at me, and everything came out. it was as if I had become ‘born again’ again because all of a sudden, the hope of a brand new life was given to me, and all was well with the world once more, lol.

I stopped using stool softeners two days later, and pain relievers about the same time. It was this time I faced my postpartum recovery for real, without having to go through hell. I started running/jogging two weeks postpartum, but it took me several weeks before I walked normally again, basically because I was on my bed most times. I was constantly doing sitz bath. In fact, I did sitz bath for 6 weeks, till my inner thighs burnt and the skin peeled, and I wasn’t even aware of it.

I’m currently 12 weeks postpartum, and I am in perfect health. I have my figure 8 back, lol, and people keep saying I don’t look like someone who just had a child. I take that as a compliment, but I don’t think anyone can go through the childbirth process and remain the same.

We are about to wrap up this series, with just one more edition to next week.