This is an anonymous blog post
If I had to describe my life right now I would say crazed, scary and mentally challenging.
I’m 35. I am the proudest mother of six beautiful children and the partner of a 49 year old man for 14 years.
My youngest child is 7 weeks old and every day of his life to date I’ve been so incredibly grateful for him.
He was born on the 25th May at 40 weeks exactly. It was an extremely difficult pregnancy. I was very ill and the baby was too.
I was induced after his movements reduced then stopped. The labour was emotional. I was in a room on my own as nobody could be with me and the midwives left me for 7 hours alone and in agony. Nobody checked on me.
The buzzer was out of reach and I was hooked up to a monitor so couldn’t move or shout as they were busy and didn’t hear me. Contracting every 3 minutes it all blurred into pain, then nothing, pain then nothing.
I think the nothing spaces were me passing out in exhaustion after being awake for three days.
Eventually the pain was too hard to cope with and I ripped the monitor off me to crawl out on my hands and knees as they didn’t answer the buzzer.
I needed to push
Someone helped me to a wheel chair and then two midwives checked me. I was 7cm.
But they couldn’t find the baby’s heartbeat.
I was rushed too delivery where it became apparent he wasn’t breathing. As I was then nearly 8cm and desperate to push, they encouraged it so I did. He came out on the first push still in his waters with the cord around his neck twice.
Seeing his still little body will haunt me. The silence. The look of panic on the midwives face as she pressed the emergency alarm.
People came in, some for me and some for the baby.
I was torn up and bleeding too much.
Once they got the placenta out it improved and they were able to treat my tears. By this time my beautiful boy was breathing and crying.
The best sound in the world
Holding him made me cry and I couldn’t stop for the longest time I was so relieved he was ok.
We both stayed in as we had strep b.
Back home eventually we settled into things and the kids all loved the baby.
The majority of my pregnancy issues were gone. Most of the pain and the rest were being treated.
Two weeks after his birth on a Wednesday waiting for the midwife to weigh him his dad began to complain of chest pain. Then his jaw went numb, and his arm and three of his fingers. He went grey.
At the hospital they quickly realised he was having a heart attack and took him for an angio plasty to save his life.
Pumped with all kinds of drugs and a stent in his heart he went to cardiac intensive care.
Five days later he was moved to coronary care and then three days later released home.
Having a heart attack has ruined our life
People look at heart attacks as killers and they are but they ruin lives if you survive them too.
I’m now a mother, cook, housewife and also a full time carer to a man who can’t lift anything over three pounds.
He can’t do anything.
Its constant rest and calm for him while he’s in the high risk of it happening again.
Life now is pills, lots of pills morning and night.
His diet is a very specific diet, shopping is a nightmare as he can only eat some things.
His moods are terrible, having a heart attack as affected him greatly. He nearly died and he knows it could happen again.
Then there are appointments, hospital for cardio rehab, physio, diet and more endless appointments. And will be for months.
Money and stress are a worry, there’s four hundred quid missing a month as he can’t work.
There is emotional stress for him, for me and for the kids.
It’s hard for him to watch me doing everything and struggle knowing he can’t do anything to help me.
He is struggling handing over control to me for everything and for me it’s a real struggle to take it all on. I have a demanding home, a baby, five other kids, bills, errands, shopping, hospital and appointments to take care of.
I feel like I’m being split in several thousand bits and there isn’t not enough of me and there’s no time to do it all.
It doesn’t get any easier it gets worse and there’s nobody to help me.
So many people are reliant on me and I’m there for them all the way but there’s nobody there for me.
When he is upset in there for him but when I am upset, I can’t tell anyone.
There is no one there for me
I can’t say I am scared he will have another one that will kill him.
That I’m scared my children will lose him.
That I will lose him.
That he won’t listen to Doctors and get worse.
I feel like he’s not taking notice of his limitations now. He rebels the new routine like a child would. I have to enforce it.
I’m always the bitch making him do stuff he doesn’t want too, but if I didn’t remind him his tablets or keep his diet he could get very ill or die.
Since having a heart attack I am the enemy
The kids are hating me for being so mean to daddy and he’s hating me too for trying to be responsible .
So I’m here, with all this and nobody understands how hard it is.
I dread going bed in case I wake up and he’s dead in the night or that he’s not doing his rehab or taking his pills.
There’s a part of me that thinks he’s better than me, having a heart attack makes him the victim not me yet if he goes into hospital I am the one left to deal with everything and he’s only got to do what he’s told.
I am solely responsible for his health and safety.
I don’t sleep; I just exist so tired and exhausted from everything. I feel like a failure to my kids, to my partner and myself.
And I don’t know what to do.
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