I'm not exactly sure where to begin here. So here's some background. We married a few months before our 20th birthdays and I was 4 months pregnant. So I was young, fresh out of high school, and for all purposes innocent and naïve. We lived in a 1 bedroom apartment and he worked grave yard shift at ups.
* Fast forward 4.5 months. *
We sat down with our doctor to have the whole "how do you want your delivery to happen" conversation. Philip and I had decided to forgo the birthing classes and just go with an epidural and drugs. Lots of drugs. We assumed the doctor was writing all of this down since it seemed he was taking notes.
I had a wonderful pregnancy. Until the last month, when serious Braxton hicks kicked in. Starting , we were at the hospital almost weekly because no one could or would explain to me what a contraction felt like. One night on my nightly walk around our complex, I felt them. Real contractions.
This had to be it. I rushed home to call Philip for the 3rd time that month to tell him I think I'm in labor. He came home, contractions were still going strong. Picked me up, and the short but long trip to the hospital began. Over the railroad tracks I once loved to go over now feeling like jarring knives up my spine.
We arrived at 11 pm on Wednesday night. The doctor decided to keep me at the hospital. I was approximately 3 cm and starting to efface (sp). They sent me for a catheter and an ennema (sp) cleaning everything out from inside me. Back to the room I was sent. To sit in my bed, not able to get out, all night.
By lunch time Thursday I had only dilated to 5 cm and the doctor ordered pitocin. I had stalled out and hadn't dilated for several hours. I thought ok, here we go this aught to kick things into gear. By I was being moved into labor and delivery, yippie I was in transition! "May I have my epidural now? "
I was informed that the nurses could only give me Demerol since there wasn't anything written in my chart about an epidural and they couldn't order it without orders. My eyes about fell out of my head realizing I wouldn't get the relief I though all along I would be getting.
The Demerol had started to kick in so my memory of things are very scattered. I apologize ahead of time.
My father and step mother showed up. I barely noticed until my stepmother decided to start reading the monitor. Lol.
"A contraction is starting! Oh this is gonna be a big one!" After a couple times of that, I think I told her off. I'm not sure. Maybe I just decided to ignore her. Maybe in the Demerol haze I just truly can't remember. But I think she stopped.
Next thing I remember is looking at my wonderful husband and how beautiful he looked holding my right hand. And then I looked at my dad holding my left hand. I remember telling myself not to be a typical woman in labor, and did my best not to hurt Philip. So I squeezed daddy's hand. I think I broke something, and whinnied "daddy, it hurts!"
I don't know how long it took, but I remember I needed to push and the doctor wasn't there. The nurses were delivering my daughter. I was concentrating on trying to breathe. The nurses were yelling at me to stop holding my breath when I pushed. Then the doctor ran into the room stripping his clothes and putting on scrubs. The only thing I remember from that is him saying "sorry I'm late, I lost my keys." And thinking seriously!?!
He came over, grabbed a scalpel and sliced me tip to tail. Next thing I know I'm looking between my legs at a blue.... seriously she was baby blue... Baby. And I said "oh my God she's blue!" After the nurses assured me that was ok, I blacked out. Seriously. I don't remember anything until after . Elizabeth (Ellie) had been born at in room 223. My step mom still plays those lottery numbers.
When I awoke from my drug induced black out, I was alone. Philip had gone home to change and sleep, my parents had left to go home. I paged the nurse and asked where my baby was. She brought Ellie to me. I remember nursing her, and just bawling my eyes out.
~Shared by Barbara V.