The percentage of women who suffer from severe perineal tears {3rd or 4th degrees} is extremely low. I don't know the exact statistic for that {if you do come across it, could you share that with me?}. I have heard as low as 4% of women, and when you factor in how many babies are born daily... that's really not a whole lot of women in the long run. So there's a pretty good chance that you may never personally meet someone who has experienced that sort of traumatic birth.
For me, I didn't know anyone who had. I had never heard personal accounts of traumatic births when I was pregnant with Benjamin - either because nobody I knew had experienced one or they wanted to spare me the gory details - so I was ignorant of the fact that it could go so totally wrong. After all, this is the 21st century. Women don't die in childbirth anymore, right? {Wrong.}
So, when you go on to experience something like this {and remember, I was twenty when this happened... so most of the people around my age weren't even married yet, much less having babies}, and you know nobody who has experienced something like this, and you've only lived in the place you are living for like two months... yeah, it's pretty lonely.
And it can stay that way for a long time, because, like I said, tears like that are rare. I've actually been shocked to be able to come into contact with a few other people who have had traumatic experiences similar to mine, especially since I posted that blog last week.
But it even feels lonelier when everyone else around you starts having their babies and nearly all of their experiences sound just magical. Just like it should be. They go in, they labor a while {sometimes not even a while}, they push, they have their baby and they are glowing. So many pictures all over facebook, and even if they don't look like a million bucks in every shot, at least you know they feel it on the inside because the birth of their child was just incredible.
And it's so much more than you could say for yourself because there are probably 4 photos of you floating around and you look like a wet dish rag, pale and doped up, stringy hair because you can't shower for 4 days {because you can't walk for 4 days}. And all the comments on those photos say, "Poor Kristen..."
Now, I don't write all of this to gather more pity or anything like that. I write this because there have been a few people who have written to me about their experiences and who have suffered in childbirth in ways that most cannot imagine. Or perhaps you're reading this now and you haven't experienced anything like this - but in the future if you do, this is for you as well. You do not have to suffer through this alone. You don't have to face anything alone because you are not alone. This is one reason I have decided to speak up and reach out - I don't want to face any of this alone anymore because feeling lost and solitary is difficult.
Bear ye one another's burdens.
If you have experienced or in the future do experience something traumatic such as a traumatic birthing experience, don't leg it alone. That was my #1 mistake and I wonder if I wouldn't be on antidepressants now if I had let all of this out earlier. Who knows?
If you need someone to talk to, I'm here. And here's a little advice from someone who has wanted to give up...
Edit: Something else I thought of while sitting here... If you have a loved one who has experienced something like this or may be going through something like this, do your best to stand by them. While it has not been easy and so much of that is due to my closing in on myself, my husband has never abandoned me to bear things alone - I only did not allow him to fully support me because of the PTSD that set in afterward. Don't give up on your loved ones. They need you, even if they don't know that they do.
I love complete, open honesty.
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