A CS delivery almost cost me my life

The day was November 4, 2018, the time was around 3pm. I was due for birth, and after failing to get labour naturally, I was induced. 

The labour pains became intense yet I would not dilate more than 8cm. The next morning, I was still in pain, tired and dehydrated. My baby was stuck and we were both in danger. That called for an emergency Cervical Surgery (CS).

My baby didn't cry immediately as he had swallowed amniotic fluid and was tired of fighting for his life. He needed oxygen, I was told after I regained consciousness.

The issues were not over, as I had no breast milk. This was the case for over a week. My son had to be taken back to the nursery after he developed a fever. Days later, I noticed I could not bend as other mothers in the ward did, as my tummy was unbearably painful. Medical personnel ruled it as a case of hyperacidity but no antacid could resolve it. My appetite was completely gone, I felt very cold and I had a pungent greenish vaginal discharge as well. 

Infections

Days later, while still caring for my little one and preparing for us to go home, my incision gushed out blood and pus. My CS wound had burst! I rushed to the nursing station not sure of what was happening. 

The doctor confirmed I had an infection. My wound was infectious and I was transferred to an isolation ward. Culture results showed I had a hospital-acquired bacteria called Klebsiella oxytoca, which is highly contagious. This called for another emergency surgery. The surgeons report that they got out a liter of pus from my stomach was devastating.

I was in so much pain, but my little boy was in agony too. After he swallowed the amniotic fluid, he suffered meningitis. I would learn again that my boy was to be isolated so that he would not infect the rest of the babies. We were both contagious. 

Seeing my son in protective gear broke my heart. We had really prayed about the delivery process. I have always been deeply religious, as my parents who hail from Kinangop (where we were brought up) raised my three siblings and me in church. 

At this point, the only thing that kept me going was my husband who stayed with us. We had got married back in 2016, after meeting on campus in 2010, and this was going to be our first child. 

Complications

Now, I had tubes that were supposed to drain the fluids from the incisions. I could not turn myself due to severe stomach aches that would make me speak in an unfamiliar language. 

One afternoon, they announced unapologetically that I had a stomach obstruction. It is a condition in which digested material is prevented from passing normally through the bowel. For the very first time, I saw my husband's eyes well up.

A nasogastric tube was inserted through my nose to my stomach. The slightest movement would cause the tube to move and that meant trouble. The wound would be cleaned after several hours and the many injections I got made the situation worse. We had been in the hospital for over three weeks. I was tired. 

One day, as the surgeons did their rounds, they announced to us that they needed to close the wound for quicker healing. This meant another surgery. 

Later, I woke up in the recovery room in so much pain, I wished I had never woken up. My abdomen was bandaged. I wondered what had transpired. I could barely see or talk and if I did, I was asking for a painkiller.

When they took me to the ward, my husband told me, "Sweery, we will be ok!" From his voice, I could tell he was sad. 

Recovery

The next day when I finally talked, I asked him why I had so many bandages. He explained how he had to sign two agreements while I was anaesthetised because surgeons performed two surgeries. They found that my intestines had been cut during the CS, and therefore had to be re-stitched. 

It was a trying time, but thank God, our boy got a discharge after the second test of meningitis turned negative and he joined me in the isolation room.

Five weeks later, I was better and we were discharged albeit with some instructions to my husband on how to take care of me. I had to go for checkups after every three days.

A month later I was back at the hospital, this time in a different facility, where I was admitted after complications. This time I was lucky and the issue was arrested in no time. Three months later, with numerous hospital visits, I walked again. We received a lot of support from everyone, especially our best couple who would be in-house round the clock taking care of things. 

Two years later, as I watch our son run around, I have learnt that every day counts. I also learnt that children are a blessing from God and that they aren't products of our mere planning.