"The lack of support was deeply concerning"

After the birth of my daughter via planned caesarean section, I spent some time in the recovery ward, where I received outstanding care. The midwife supporting me was incredibly kind, compassionate, and reassuring. The entire surgical team during the procedure was exceptional — calm, attentive, and supportive throughout. Despite the nerves that naturally come with childbirth, especially for a first-time mum, it was a really positive and empowering experience thanks to the professionalism and warmth of the staff.

Unfortunately, the experience changed significantly once I was transferred to the postnatal ward on Ward 73. I arrived at around 3pm, completely numb from the waist down and unsure of what to expect. As a new mother, I didn’t want to be a burden, but I was lying in an awkward position and asked a midwife for help to move further up the bed. The midwife responded by telling me that in their 17 years as a midwife, no one had ever asked for that before, and mentioned needing a hoist from another ward. Their tone made me feel silly and embarrassed for asking for help, even though I was immobile and still had a catheter in. My partner, while supportive, isn’t a nurse, and neither of us knew how to reposition me safely.

When dinner arrived, I was told it was self-service — despite still being numb and unable to move unaided. If my partner hadn’t been there to help, I genuinely don’t know what I would have done. Before he left at 10pm, he went to fill my water jug and was met with unnecessary attitude from staff when he asked where to do it.

That night, the lack of support was deeply concerning. I was in increasing pain and hadn’t received any pain relief since 7pm apart from paracetamol afterwards. I buzzed for help around 11pm and was told that medication would be brought round shortly, but by 1am I was still waiting. I buzzed repeatedly between 1am and 3:30am with no response. Desperate and in agony, I ended up taking the paracetamol I had brought with me — a wholly inadequate form of pain relief after major surgery.

When I eventually phoned the ward to request help, a midwife came and told me the buzzer wasn’t working. They gave me some pain relief but said they couldn’t help with the severe itch I had developed because no antihistamine had been prescribed. No one checked in on me or my baby throughout the night. As a first-time mum, I felt completely abandoned and terrified as this was my first experience with birth and not being able to move about due to the surgery was awful.

To make matters worse, my blood-thinning injection — which was supposed to be administered on the day of the surgery — was left sitting on my bedside table until the Monday morning, when a midwife casually asked why I hadn’t taken it. At no point had I been shown how to administer it myself, nor was it explained that I needed to. There were no routine checks on me or the other patients in my room until 6am. It’s not that the staff were overwhelmed — they were clearly heard chatting and laughing in the corridor all night.

The next morning, after a sleepless night spent in pain and trying to care for my baby alone, a physiotherapist came in while I was visibly upset and crying, holding my newborn. They briefly asked if I was okay, then handed me a leaflet with a QR code and left the room quickly — no further conversation, no reassurance, no help.

Breakfast, again, was self-service. I never managed to get any, as I was still in pain and didn’t want to leave my baby unattended. When my partner returned, he could see how distressed I was and asked what we needed to do to get discharged. We were handed some paperwork, and that was it — no discharge support, no car seat check, no guidance, just sent home.

I completely understand that staff can be busy, and I know the NHS is under pressure. This isn't about being difficult or expecting luxury — it's about expecting safe, compassionate, and basic postnatal care. I’m fortunate to have a strong support system at home, but I can’t stop thinking about those who don’t. For them, an experience like this could be not only traumatic but dangerous. I feel that something has to change to ensure that every new mother receives the standard of care they deserve.