He checked me (basically reaching up my hoo-haa quite roughly, I must add), and as I writhed in pain, he snorted, “if you can’t handle the exam, how are you ever going to deliver a baby?” (TRUE STORY!!!)
Seriously, what a ….. (you can fill that in). He informed me 1 was only 1-2 centimeters and I thought great, now just send me home so I can try to sleep. I had gone in about 6:30 and it was close to 9:30 at this point.
Apparently, that was not an option; every time I had a contraction, my baby’s heart rate was dropping. I had to lay on my side, then go on all four’s (really awesome when you’re mostly naked) several times, without avail. The likelihood of a c-section was increasing with every passing moment. Once I was told that fact, I lost it. How can I be deprived my right as a woman to try to birth my baby? Why is this happening?
Fraught with emotion, I was borderline hysterical. I was wishing my mom was there to help calm me down – my husband wasn’t capable of understanding about this, it was a woman’s issue. I felt so defeated – like the fight was called off before I entered the ring; hell I wasn’t even in full labor yet.
It neared 10pm, and there was no change. Dr. Bedside Manner decided it was time for action. I got an IV – which was for me, THE most painful out thing that happened out of this whole transaction. I am on the tall side, and average sized, but my veins, apparently, are anything but average. After various attempts failed, I believe the 3rd nurse got an ER nurse to do it. It hurt like hell, and I wanted to rip the tube out of my arm, but I had to refocus on the obvious – it wasn’t coming out until after the baby. Epidural was next, and besides the fact that you’re scared to death to move, it wasn’t that bad – I think most akin to a bee sting. Then I got moved onto the gurney, and off I went.
I was petrified; I was wheeled into a big room, stainless steel everywhere, bright lights shining. It felt cold, and my teeth were chattering – “that’s the pain meds sweetie,” said the kindly nurse beside me. I got moved from the gurney to another table and they strapped down my arms (were they afraid I was going to tell them to stop and rip the instruments out of their hands?) I had layers of warming blankets covering me, but I was still cold. My husband had been donned in scrubs by this point, and looking quite dapper I must add. He sat to my right, the nurse to my left. There was a 2 foot+ high blue curtain covering my belly extending up so I couldn’t see what the doctors were doing. After about 20 minutes, I felt a surge of pressure, a pulling sensation, and heard my baby cry for the first time, from behind that curtain. I looked at my husband, tears flowing, and couldn’t wait to see her.
They whisked her to the scale, yelled out some numbers, cleaned her up, wrapped her like a burrito, and handed her off to my husband. The look in his eyes, was priceless – he was so moved, and proud. I crooked my head and gazed upon our little miracle; at least now I had tears of joy.
It took another 20 minutes or so before they closed me all up. The wait to hold my baby was almost unbearable, but after what seemed like hours, they allowed me to (the drugs make you drowsy – pretty sure they want to make sure you’re awake enough to hold the baby without dropping it).
to be continued…