I ended up with a stoma after giving birth to my first child — but it hasn’t held me back

“CROSSING the finish line of the half-ironman race, after a gruelling 1.2-mile swim, 56-mile bike ride and 13.2-mile run, I felt elated and so proud of what my body had achieved.

Six years earlier, in October 2011, I gave birth to my son Sam at 34 weeks. During the traumatic forceps delivery, I suffered a fourth-degree tear extending into my rectum.

I didn’t realise at the time, but the consultant then incorrectly repaired the tear twice, and within days I had become incontinent and developed a serious infection. Five days after Sam’s birth, I had a colostomy – surgery to create an opening for my bowel in my abdominal wall – to divert faeces away from the infected area, but I was assured it was only temporary.

Exhausted, in pain and scared, I remember waking up after my operation and realising the bag had leaked all over me. It smelled disgusting. How was I going to cope with that and a newborn baby?

Sam, who was being tube-fed as his digestive system wasn’t working properly yet because he was so premature, wasn’t allowed on the post-surgical ward with me, so we were separated for several days. It was so hard being apart from him.

Sam and I spent two weeks in hospital, where I was taught to change my bag and keep the opening – called a stoma – clean, before we were discharged. At home, I had to focus so much on my physical recovery and getting to grips with the bag, that I failed to bond with Sam until he was around seven months old.

I didn’t realise how traumatised I was by what had happened, and that deep love I’d heard other mothers talk about just wasn’t there for me. At times I even resented him, because it was his birth that had left me in this state.

I also began suffering from panic attacks, including one at the dentist. Sitting in the chair, I suddenly felt terrified. Chris was supportive, but it was hard for him seeing me so physically and emotionally damaged.

When I received a letter a month after I was discharged from hospital telling me they were launching an investigation into what had happened during Sam’s birth, I was shocked. Until that point, I thought I’d just been really unlucky, and certainly hadn’t made any complaint. To realise I’d been failed was devastating.

Following this, I had to have regular legal appointments as I was advised to take action against the NHS. For the first year of Sam’s life, I juggled looking after him and living with a bag. One day I was at the supermarket and had to hand Sam to a member of staff and run for the loo because I realised my bag was leaking.

I’d often sit at baby groups and look at the mums around me and feel so different to them. All my hopes and dreams about motherhood had been taken away, and the bag – which I hid under loose clothing because I felt so self-conscious – was a constant reminder.

In late 2012, I was told the damage to my rectum was too severe to be repaired and the colostomy would be permanent. This meant I’d lose my job in the police as I was too physically vulnerable to serve on the front line. So in April 2013 I was medically retired.

In 2014, the NHS trust settled out of court. As part of the medical assessments I had to have, I was diagnosed with PTSD and PND. I felt vindicated that I wasn’t weak, or just hadn’t coped – something deeply traumatic had happened to me.

It took time, but as I healed, Chris and I decided to try for another baby when Sam was two. Sadly, I miscarried and just didn’t feel mentally strong enough to try again.

I did have counselling, but what I’ve found more beneficial for my mental health has been throwing myself into an active lifestyle. Before Sam was born, I went for the odd jog, but in the last six years I’ve trained for sprint triathlons, taken up wild swimming three years ago and completed the half-ironman race. And in May, I’m doing my first skydive.

I’m now teetotal, eat healthily and am fitter and stronger than I have ever been. My new lifestyle is about taking control of my body after feeling so powerless when I first had my colostomy. I can’t get back the time I lost, but I can make the most of every minute now.

No woman expects having a baby to leave her with a permanent disability. Everything can change in a heartbeat, so I refuse to waste time wondering what might have been. I was so worried my bag would hold me back, but it has only made me determined to prove it hasn’t.”

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