The ‘Nurse Curse’: My Story of Birth Trauma

• A NICU nurse shares her ‘nurse curse’ story of birth trauma. 
• She nearly died two years ago as a result of giving birth to her first child.  
• She hopes her story will let others who have experienced birth trauma or the ‘nurse curse’ that they’re not alone.  

The nurse curse … What? Is this for real? Why? In my 10 years in nursing, I hadn’t experienced this phenomenon until two years ago, when I was pregnant and gave birth to my first baby. I am a NICU nurse, and I was more nervous about my pregnancy and so thankful for every week that came and that my baby boy continued growing. I was so focused on praying that things would go smoothly and that my baby boy would not require NICU intervention. Little did I know that I would be the one requiring multiple – and critical – interventions to save my life.    

‘I am so Tired; I Can’t do This’ 

Rewind to 2022, when I delivered my first baby. 

During one of my last obstetrical (OB) appointments around 38 weeks, my cervical exam showed I was already dilated to 4 centimeters (I had no idea, and I did not feel anything), and my blood pressure started trending up. The OB doctor discussed induction at 39 weeks to prevent preeclampsia. My husband and I discussed the risks and benefits and decided to proceed with the induction. 

A few days later, we woke up around 5 in the morning to head to the hospital, check in and get things started for the induction. Things were going pretty smoothly. As time progressed, with the Pitocin running, I began to feel the contractions more, and it was just too much. I decided to get an epidural. I signed the consent form, and the anesthesiologist came to insert it. Shortly after I received my epidural and the OB ruptured the membrane, my baby boy started to experience deceleration. 

The nurses had me turn to my left side, gave me oxygen, and then had me get on my hands and knees on the bed. Thankfully, after all these interventions, the baby boy’s heart rate increased and was steady. After some time, it was time to start pushing, and, boy, did I push. I was pushing on and off for about three hours. It was rough, and I had moments of thinking and telling my husband, “I am so tired; I can’t do this.” However, with the support of my husband, the nurse, the OB doctor, and, of course, my fabulous body, I was able to push out our beautiful baby boy. I remember they put him on my chest, and I started crying and stimulating him as I held him. Leave it to the NICU nurse in me to make sure my baby would have a good transition.   

Moved to the Operating Room

Unfortunately, during labor and pushing, I tore significantly. The placenta was delivered after the baby and the OB doctor began to stitch me up. The baby was taken to the warmer to obtain his weight, measurements, and vitals while the OB doctor was with me. Again, I had a significant number of tears, and the OB doctor was working on me, and it was excruciating. While all this was happening, my husband was texting our immediate families to let them know that our baby boy was delivered and that both the baby and I were doing well. Shortly after this, things took a turn for the worse. 

The OB started saying that it was hard to visualize anything because I would not stop bleeding. She ordered the nurses to give me some medications for hemorrhaging, but they did not work. I continued to bleed out significantly. The OB told us she wasn’t able to stop the bleeding and that she needed to take me to the operating room to numb me using the epidural (thank goodness I had this), so she could see what was going on. I remember her saying it could be a piece of the placenta left behind (but she didn’t think it was), or I have tears that are higher up and hard to visualize. It was all such a blur. I signed the consent form as they were preparing to roll me out. As they rolled me out, I said, “I love you,” to my husband, watching him with tears in his eyes and looking at my baby in the warmer. I started praying that I would be okay so I could go back to my baby and husband.

I remember when we arrived at the operating room, they transferred me to the operating table, and started two more peripheral IVs and a bunch of fluids. The anesthesiologist administered medication via my epidural. I almost instantly felt numb again in the bottom of my body. While the OB was figuring out what was going on, I remember feeling scared, but I kept making myself look at the monitor to check my vitals. One of the IVs started hurting, and I told a nurse. It hadn’t gone well, so they removed it. After some time, the OB said it was a tear that was higher up that just kept bleeding, so it made was hard for her to visualize while we were in the delivery room earlier.

She told me if I hadn’t been in the hospital when all this happened, my outcome would have been significantly different. At this time, I asked one of the nurses if they could update my husband, so he knew I was okay. After this was over, my husband told me that when they rolled me to the OR, he was in the delivery room with our baby and vast amounts of blood on the floor from when I was hemorrhaging. Thankfully, they moved him and the baby to another room, where I was brought to recover. 

Recovering from Birth Trauma

I was so exhausted and edematous from all the fluids I received that I kept falling asleep, and my amazing husband took care of our son throughout the night while I rested. During the next few days, due to my hemoglobin dropping to around 6, I was transfused with five units of packed red blood cells (PRBC) and one unit of fresh frozen plasma (FFP). After all of this, some of the nurses who came in to care for me would mention those dreaded words … nurse curse. And all I could think was, “Why was this my experience?” I am so thankful to be alive.

It didn’t fully hit me that I almost died until the day we were discharged. I remember asking the nurse how much blood I lost. She looked in the chart, and I lost about 2500mL — half of the volume of my body! I was in shock and couldn’t believe I made it through and recovered.

This nurse curse experience is something I carry with me and will never forget. It caused so much anxiety, especially postpartum, when I would look at our son. I would cry and think how lucky I was to be alive. It created anxiety when I was pregnant with our second baby because I was scared that delivery would be the same (or worse). Thankfully, my second delivery was nothing like my first and was a better experience.

This experience is part of my story. I questioned why at first, but ultimately realized these things happen. Am I more mindful of what could go wrong when receiving medical interventions myself? I can say that I am, but I don’t let it get the best of me, and I will continue to move forward, hoping for the best. 

The Bottom Line

To my fellow nurses who have had similar or worse “nurse curse” experiences, I see you and hope you know you’re not alone. Hopefully, you have a support system or outlet to discuss your experience and heal from the trauma you went through. May we move forward and claim our “nurse curse” traumas to heal ourselves and help others going through it. 

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