Anyways, here goes...
You might recall that I had been having contractions for weeks before Eric was born. One time they had become so regular that I had gone into the hospital, thinking I might be in labor. On the other hand, I kept reading so many women say that when it was the real thing, you would just know. (Of course, I also found many exceptions to that rule). In my case, I was pretty sure when the "real thing" started. We were working on building a garage/shed for Mauri's tools and our garden equipment, and were also fixing up our basement at the time. The electrician had come to our house that day, Sept. 20, and was working on the installation of electric cables and boxes. At lunch time, I started to have contractions, but since it wasn't anything out of the ordinary, we went back to what we were doing. Mauri was downstairs and outside with the electrician, and I was inside thinking that maybe these contractions were different from the others. After having had false alarms, though, and wanting them to be able to finish the electric installation, I didn't say anything to Mauri. When they started to get stronger, and were moving from 15 minutes to 10 minutes apart, I made myself a warm bath, and got in. That helped with the contractions. That's when I was pretty sure that things were different this time. The other times, the contractions had gotten to every 4-7 minutes right away, and weren't that painful, but this time, they were more "textbook" contractions that started further apart, and got progressively closer together. They were also a bit stronger and more painful than others in the past.
Eventually, Mauri came in, saw me in the bath, and knew something was up. We decided that we were going to go to the hospital, but I decided to wait as long as I could in the bath, because the contractions were much more comfortable there. When they were 4-5 minutes apart, we headed for the hospital. Out of the tub, though, I noticed that that intensity of the contractions was much stronger. I wished I could travel to the hospital in the tub, and the ride there was actually pretty uncomfortable. (I had terrible thoughts about doing horrible things to the people who had decided to put in all of the stupid speed bumps on the way down to town. As if I didn't already hate them!!)
As soon as I checked in at the front desk, at around 10PM, someone came out with a wheelchair, and started to wheel me to the birthing part of the hospital. It is a section that is with the OR's and not near the maternity clinic. I told them that my contractions were 4-5 minutes apart, but the "midwife"-- ok, I write that in quotes because he was a man, and I don't know the proper terminology in these cases. (Would he be a midhusband? :) )--said they needed to hook me up to the monitor to check my contractions for 20 minutes, and that they would then bring me to the doctor. Anyways, it was just my luck to be stuck with the only male midwife.
An hour later I was wondering how much longer they were going to make me wait there on the table with the monitor hooked up. It was very diffucult for me to stay in a lying down position with the intensity of the contractions. So, Mauri left the room, and tried to find someone to see if I could get up off the table to get more comfortable. My midwife had made it sound like I was going to be allowed to move around freely and position myself as needed to be more comfortable. She said that it was best to keep moving to keep comfortable, and to move things along better.
I was also wondering where the birthing chairs and balls, that were supposedly in the birthing rooms, happened to be. Was it all a big lie?
The male midwife came back, and said that the doctor was busy with someone else, but that they would take me back there soon. He let me at least sit up while I waited.
When I got to the doctor, he did an exam, just like they had done the last time I had come with the false alarm. This time, though, most of the people weren't as friendly. I did find one of the nurses from last time, though, and she seemed happy to see me again.
I sat back in the stirrups and let the doctor do the exam, and he said I wasn't more than a centimeter dilated again!! I couldn't believe it.
To make it worse, a really rude girl, who was obviously doing "prácticas" came over without saying a word, and shoved her hand up to try to feel if I was dilated or not. In my experience in the US, when someone is going to practice on you, they have to ask permission. Here, though, it obviously isn't the case. This girl didn't even bother to introduce herself. I was already uncomfortable enough before she rammed her hand up me. The doctor hadn't caused any more pain, but she did, and I knew that she wan't there to help me. She was only there to help herself. The doctor had already obtained all the information he needed, and her exam had been completely uncomfortable and completely unnecessary.
They told me that I was in labor, but that I wasn't dilated enough to stay in the birthing rooms, so they sent me to the maternity ward. The wheelchair ride to the maternity ward was even more uncomfortable than the original ride to the birthing rooms had been, and I was having a hard time bracing myself during the contractions.
When I got to the maternity ward, they seemed very surprised that I had been sent there with my contractions so close together. In my room here, though, I at least was able to move around as I needed to, and I eventually found myself crouching over on the floor to help get through the contractions. Mauri tried to find water for me, and found a nurse who gave him a bottle, and we tried to figure out when, exactly, we were supposed to go back to the maternity room. Mauri asked the nurses about it, and when they came, and saw me hunched over on the floor, they decided to send me right back down. About 10-15 minutes after riding up there, I had to endure another wheelchair ride right back down to the birthing rooms!!
As soon as I got back, it felt like deja vu. The stupid male midwife insisted that I lie down on the bed again, and be hooked up to the monitor again!! By this point, it was very difficult for me to maintain this position. It was just too uncomfortable. After what seemed like an eternity, they came back and checked me and said that I was further dilated.
I figured that I would now be able to move around to help things along, but the stupid midwife man insisted that I stayed hooked up to the monitor so that he could see how far apart the contractions were. I told him that I could time them, but he wasn't interested in me doing that. Being further dilated, they started the first dicsussion about whether or not I wanted an epidural. Originally, I wanted to try to do it without the epidural. By now, though, I wasn't so sure. I was upset about how things had been going, upset that I couldn't position myself to be comfortable, and so upset about it all that I couldn't even think about using my relaxation techniques. They also didn't seem to want to let me use the positions that were helpful in relieving the pressure. (Oh, if only I had been able to have the water birth I had wanted- with as happy and comfortable as I was in my bathtub!!!)
I decided to hold off, and asked if I could get up to try to be more comfortable. The midwife guy said I could sit on the chair with the stupid monitor on me. I figured that was better than lying down. So, I sat on a chair near the bed, but whenever there was a contracion, I stood up to get through it. Sitting meant I was hunched over my belly which, when tensed up, didn't feel so good all hunched together. When the stupid midhusband came back, he was upset that I had been standing up during the contractions because he couldn't read the monitor reading to see how far apart my contractions were. I tried to tell him they were about 3 minutes apart, but he didn't care. He wanted to see it.
He decided that I should lie back down on the bed with the stupid monitor. (are you kidding me?!?!?! Whatever happened to the law saying that a woman could give birth as she wanted?? I didn't want to be strapped to the stupid monitor while being forced to lie still on a bed!!) By that point I was so frustrated, and in so much pain, that I decided to sign the paperwork for the epidural "just in case" I decided to get it. As I headed for the bed, I felt a little pop, and I said that I thought my water had broken. It had, and the midwife guy came back with something to rip the rest of the bag open. They brought me the paperwork I had requested, and I was so frustrated and uncomfortable, that I could barely sign it.
The anesthesiologist came quite quickly, and they were ready to adminiter the epidural. The problem?? To get en epidural, you have to try to sit still while they put the needle into your spine. Normally that wouldn't be a problem, but the process takes a little while, and the contractions make it so that it is very difficult for you to stay hunched over and not move. The nice nurse from the other day luckily came to check on me, just as they were starting to do the epidural. She grabbed my head, and told me to look at her, and then told me how to breath, and how to relax. If it weren't for her, I'm not sure they would have gotten the needle in.
Once the needle was in, I had to lie back down, but little by little the pain from most areas went down by quite a bit. I still felt pressure, and some areas still felt the same as before because there were a few free nerve areas not reached by the epidural, but I was ready to try to calm down and relax a bit. That didn't last long, though, and at around 3:30-4:00AM they told me to start pushing. I actually also felt like I wanted to push. I pushed and pushed, though, and it didn't really seem to get me anywhere. They could feel Eric's head, but it didn't seem to be going anywhere.
So, they left me alone, and told me that I could push with each contraction, and that I should try to push for as long as possible each time. Every once in awhile they would come check on me, and they would try to help me push a cycle or two, and they would reposition me and leave again. I was surprised by how long things were taking. They made it seem like he could be born any minute at 4AM when I started to push, and they had cut off the epidural so that I would have the strength to push, but now I didn't know what to expect anymore.
By then, I had been pushing through the third shift of midwifes. The stupid midhusband from the beginning was long gone, as was the nice nurse. The new midwife said that when I pushed Eric's head came down into the canal, but that when I let up, it would go right back up!! So, I should try to hold each push for as long as possible. By that point, though, I was exhausted. I had been up all night pushing, and my epidural had worn off, and things hurt more than ever. I felt a real urge to push, but I felt like it wasn't getting me anywhere.
They decided to get the doctor at 10AM after about 6 hours of non-stop pushing. I could barely take it anymore, but when I saw that it was the "rough" doctor, I was actually happy to see him. I figured that if anyone could rip the baby out of me, he could!! He checked on my pushing, and said that I was pushing very well, and that there wasn't anything else I could do. There was no other choice than to do an emergency c-section. I had to sign more permission forms: one for the c-section, one for another epidural, one for permission to do general anesthesia in the unlikely case in which the regional anesthesia wouldn't work...
By that point, I don't remember much. I remember it being almost impossible for me to sign the papers. I remember screaming through the last contractions waiting for the anesthesiologist to come. Where is he!?!?!?!? Of course, by that point it was daytime, and they were all busy. It took forever for him to come. I had the strong urge to push, but knew by that point that it was useless.
After what seemed like forever, the anesthesiologist came, and I realized that I had to go through getting a new epidural needle!! (What?? I had read that one of the advantages of having an epidural was that you'd already have it in place if you needed to have an emergency c-section.) I had to sit still again, and by now it was almost impossible. They had wheeled me to the OR, and Mauri was no longer allowed to be with me. I think by that point I was partly in shock because I don't really remember a lot. I remember lying down on the bed after the needle was placed in my back. I remember thinking "when is this epidural going to have an effect?," and asking the anesthesiologist that over and over. Then there was a stupid nurse at my feet who kept telling me to straighten my legs out for her. I couldn't because it hurt too much, and was too out of it to answer her. I heard her complaining that I didn't understand her, and asking if I didn't understand Spanish because I wouldn't straighten out my legs!! I just wanted to kick her.
The anesthesiologist got a call to go to an emergency, but he luckily answered that THIS was also an emergency. He seemed concerned with me, and told me to look at him, but it was really hard for me to do that. I asked him when the contractions would stop, and he seemed surprised that they hadn't yet. So, he started to stab me with something pointy, and asking me if I could feel it. Of course I could!! Pressure or pain? Pain!! And another contraction!!!
By that point, they tried to adjust the regional anesthesia, but it just wasn't working, and I heard them say they would need to do general anesthesia.
I have always had a fear of being intubated. I also had really wanted to be a part of my own birthing experience, and wanted to be able to hold my baby on my chest as soon as he was born, to have that skin to skin contact that was supposed to be so important for the new baby's adjustment to the new world. I wanted to be able to breastfeed him ASAP to make sure that he would latch on properly, and to avoid problems that arise when you wait too long...
By that point, though, I was so out of it, and was in so much pain, that I just wanted it to be over by any means possible.
They put the gas mask on me, and I was out.
I woke up to silence. I was alone with the anesthesiologist, and didn't know what had happened. Where was my baby? Was everything OK?
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| Mauri took this with his phone while I was still asleep. Eric's 1st picture. |
It felt like forever, but they finally brought Eric to me. He had been with Mauri the whole time, and Mauri had already taken his picture. They tried to latch him on to breastfeed, but I don't really remember a lot about it. I was groggy, but very happy to finally see my little baby, and he was very cute.
After months of crying through seeing births on tv (face it, pregnant women have hormonal changes to deal with), I was expecting to cry (happy tears) at the birth of my own baby, but when it came down to it, I was just too exhausted. It was too after-the-fact, and didn't seem like it was real because I hadn't really experienced it myself.
So, yes, I feel like I was cheated out of the experience in a way.
I had worried about things like who would cut the cord, how long they'd wait to cut it, how quickly to have him on my chest, making sure I'd be the first one to hold my baby..., but in the end, both Mauri and, especially, I missed out on it all. If it weren't for the fact the Eric looks so much like his ultrasound pictures, and because he's too cute, I kept thinking that by me being completely asleep, and Mauri being kept out of the O.R., they could have switched babies on us without either of us knowing it. Why would they switch mine to give me a cuter, better baby, though?
:)
Oh well, things didn't go as I wanted, but I still am happy to have my little Eric.
Well, seeing as how this is getting long, I'll leave the story of the rest of my hospital stay for another day...
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