“A mother’s delight begins when new life is stirring inside; when a little heartbeat is heard for the first time, and a playful kick tells her that she is never alone,” according to a quote.
The sensation of knowing that a living thing is developing inside your body is indescribable. When I found out I was pregnant with my first child on June 16, 2020, it was one of the happiest days of my life. A thing with two hands, two limbs, two eyes, two ears, and a nose growing inside of me made me immensely proud of my body.
Despite the pandemic, my trip was the easiest, and I was quite active until the seventh month. We as a couple have always taken great care of me and the baby developing inside me, but I’m not sure what occurred after my baby shower at the beginning of my seventh month. From that point on, everything was completely turned upside down and in the other direction. I suddenly felt no foetal movements for two days and discovered that this was due to a lack of ambilocal fluid around the baby. The necessary treatment for this problem began, but it was not the only one. I felt severe itching all over my body soon after starting the medicine to increase the fluid in the sack (in every part).
We managed to live through all of it in a positive way with the effective treatment and were looking forward to seeing our child. But fate had different ideas for us. On February 14, 2021, my husband was found to be Covid positive by an ENT specialist he visited, and I was also positive because we shared a room at the time and were unaware that he had contracted the virus. This happened in the ninth month of my pregnancy. I had seen my gynaecologist the day before we were tested positive, and she informed me that my baby might arrive any day now. We were quite concerned because covid has its own set of problems, despite the fact that I had no symptoms at all..On February 19th, I had a terrible pain and the drop of my baby. I knew my baby had slipped lower and that she might arrive at any time, but my biggest concern was that I was covid positive and that hospitals wouldn’t treat me unless it was an emergency. I made a firm decision to sit or sleep all the time rather than move about. I was in a lot of agony, but I needed to be strong for my kid. I went for my PCR test after 10-12 days of confinement, expecting for a negative result so I could visit my doctor, but guess what? I was diagnosed Presumptive Positive.I was advised to retest three days later. But it appears that my baby wanted to arrive sooner, as my water broke the next morning, accompanied by heavy bleeding. I was brought to the emergency room of the hospital where I was scheduled to deliver and discovered that while I wasn’t greatly dilated, my baby was in extreme distress owing to a lack of fluid in the sack. She began skipping heartbeats, and the atmosphere became too stressful. Doctors then decided on an emergency C-section, performed a PCR test, and sent me to the OT.THere, the anesthesiologist gave me a spinal injection to numb my body, which had little impact, so I was shot in the spine many times before being given general anaesthesia. I lost consciousness shortly after the general anaesthetic, and my baby was operated on. When I awoke, she was nowhere to be seen, and believe me, I had awful thoughts because I didn’t know if she was living or if I had lost her. I was not permitted to visit her since the PCR findings had not yet come. I was subsequently sent to the covid ward and secluded. That night, my negative results arrived, and I saw my newborn girl for the first time after 12 hours after her delivery.Holding her in my arms for the first time felt like I’d given birth all over again, and there was nothing else in the world that mattered more than her. By God’s goodness, I had given birth to a healthy and adorable baby girl called Myra.
Of course, my problems did not finish there; as a result of the frequent pricks in my spine, I had a severe spinal headache that kept me from being with my kid for several days. My stitches became infected within a few days after being discharged from the hospital, resulting in a pus infection that landed me back in the hospital, adding to my misery. All of these difficulties kept me away from Myra, so she was bottle fed and experienced nipple confusion.
So she never breastfed again, which made me feel like she wasn’t bonded to me, and I ended up with postpartum depression. Even after four months of delivery, I’m still dealing with a slew of difficulties.
This delivery was a roller coaster trip in and of itself, with smooth beginnings and surprising twists and turns.
I’d want to conclude by stating that my post-delivery difficulties are still ongoing, but what keeps me going is my great desire to be happy and healthy for little Myra, and seeing her smile at the end of the day makes all my pains fade away. Keeping your thoughts positive and having a strong desire to live for your kid can help you overcome any hurdle.
Motherhood is an entirely new adventure, and all moms should support one another when they are needed (predelivery, post-delivery or even later on).
All mothers-to-be and new mommies reading this can reach out to me on Instagram at @mansisagar09 whenever they need a friend or help.