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Week by Week

Hilary's Birth

This was my fourth pregnancy, and I still didn't have a baby. I would have done anything to have this baby and I wanted what was best. In my mind this was an unmedicated birth as I had been unmedicated during the pregnancy and I worriedabout the increased rate of cesareans with epidurals, etc.

I prepared myself (I was already a childbirth educator and doula) by reading a lot of books,I attended Lamaze classes, several different hospital classes (even atdifferent hospitals), talking to my doctor, and developing a birth plan.

My husband Greg, was very supportive and we chose my cousin to assist us at the birth.Everything was going along fine and just wonderfully. I had a minor car accident 12 days before my due date.Due to the fact that I had decreased fetal movement and some tenderness in my abdomen, we decided to do a non-stress test.The baby wasn't very active, but was'nt having problems either. We decided that an ultrasound might be a bit more conclusive, in case there was something we didn't see.

I had my first and only ultrasound of the pregnancy and the baby was just perfect. Probably just a bit shaken from all the hoopla! I went home to await my due date. :) (BTW, no matter how much money my mom tried to give us, we were NOT going to find out the sex!)

My due date came and went...Everyday felt like a year. I was getting really anxious about having the baby.However, I wanted to avoid an induction, because again it increased the risks of something going wrong in an uncomplicated pregnancy. Three days later, December 6, 1991, I was babysitting my 1 yo nephew and my newest nephew who was 5 weeks old.I went home and tried to go to sleep, Greg was still at work.

After having been tired for days, and having alternating bouts of trying to fake bursts of engery, I was still exhausted.I had some small contractions that I assumed were braxton-hicks. I slept well, for about an hour.Greg got home from work and we watched a bit of TV. Then I decided to go back to bed.

7 am the next morning, I was up with contractions about 10 minutes apart and some bloody show. I tried to wake Greg up and tell him, but he just mumbled and went back to bed. I cleaned around the house and got some stuff ready. I got back in bed around 10:30 am and tried to wake him up again, this time I said nothing about the contractions. I just smiled and initiated a great labor motivator. *Censored*

When we finally got out of bed, the contractions were about 6 minutes apart and not feeling bad at all.I admitted that I was in labor and he was horrfied! He didn't believe me. I fixed lunch and baked cookies. When it came time to eat the cookies,he grabbed mine and said, "If you are in labor you don't need to be eating."

I suggested a walk. We went everywhere around the neighborhood. It was a fairly warm day for December.We ran into my sister swimming at the bubble down the street and told her that I was in labor.My grandparents lived right behind us so we stopped there for a bit. About 3 pm the contractions were about 3 minutes apart and lasting 60 seconds. I was still doing very well as long as I moved around or stayed in the tub.

Greg panicked, he wanted me to call the doctor. Our instructions had been to call when they were 5 minutes apart for an hour and these had been 3 minutes apart for 5 hours. I really didn't feel it was time. However, I caved in as he begged me not to have the baby on the floor in the bathroom (big joke, be sure to read Benjamin's Birth too).The doctor on call wasn't mine, and I had never met her, but in my mind I figured she was female and would be sympathetic, so I didn't worry.

No strange car ride over, no screaming at the bumps...the only funny story that I have to tell about the trip to the hospitalwas the fact that I made Greg park in the back lot and we walked all the way to the hospital and up six flights of stairs. I got on the elevator at the 6th floor and rode it to the seveth because I was afraid that if they saw me coming up the stairs they would assume I wasn't in labor.

We had a problem finding Martha, my cousin, but eventually she showed up at the hospital with my mom and her husband (he's really my cousin). We were the only ones there. The doctor wouldn't be stopping by for awhile, so they delayed the heparin lock. I was only 3 centimeters dialted. And the baby's head was high.Because my waters had'nt broken, they let me walk around, I debated about going home, but decided to wait for the doctor and roam the halls, because they weren't bothering me. My family was nervousbecause every other female in my generation had had a cesarean, despite the large pelvises and relatively small babies. I was determined to be different.

The contractions slowed down when I got to the hospital, although I knew that this was normal,the nurses were acting as if it weren't. I did my 20 minutes of monitoring and then got up to walk around.I did this routine for four hours, the contractions had started to pick back up and were about every 4 minutes and lasting 45 seconds. I was still dealing well with the discomfort. Although my family was really annoying me. I thought that I was going to scream if I heard them tell me to get back in bed one more time!

The nurse asked me to go back to my room to get the heparin lock, because Dr. B was coming in to check me.I had been there almost 5 hours and was anxious to see what the doctor had to say, but I didn't really feel like I had progressed much. I was stressing.

So, in comes Dr. B, with the most obnoxious whine that I had ever heard!She checks me and finds that I am still 3 cms. I ask about station (how high the baby's head was), and the position and condition of my cervix.She told me that it was none of my business. She said that I wasn't in labor, no woman likes to hear this, and that she could break my water or send me home. I said, "Send me HOME!"She said, "I want to check you one more time." She did and she broke my water against my will, with an amnihook. I had decided against breaking my water because the baby's head had been so high the last time that I would have been at a fairly good risk for a cord prolapse.

She starts screaming that I am going to kill my baby! I can't get out of bed, I have to lay there. She does an impersonation of "what dead babies look like" and tells me stories of cord prolapses. I am horrified. She won't let me get a word in edgewise. She leaves me with the command to get going or I am going to get pitocin in two hours.

Now I am really angry, scared, and upset. My contractions went away. I sat there and tried to make excuses for her. There had been a tiny bit of old meconium in the water, probably from the car wreck, but other than that there was nothing wrong.The few contractions that I did have were horrible in bed, I felt like I had no way of dealing with them.My family became very supportive and tried to rub my back and my feet. I was just too upset to calm down.

Greg decided that he was tired and went to take a nap. It was nice to have him out of my hair he was going totally bananas and making me nervous. We agreed to wake him up when they started the pitocin.

The nurse came back in at the appropriate hour and checked me. I was now 2 cms! The big lesson that I learned here was that emotions really do have an important effect on your labor. So, she came back with the pitocin drip. Martha went to wake Greg. Pitocin had been one of my biggest fears, I even begged the nurse for an epidural before she started it.She knew how much I wanted to remain drug free and convinced me to give the pitocin a try. She said that she was just going to turn it on a bit and see how I did.

Almost immediately I started havving contractions that made me concentrate, although had I been able to move around I think it would have been much easier to handle.Everyone there was giving me their complete attention, rubbing me and trying to keep me light-hearted. After two hours I was still 2 cms, and the baby's head hadn't come down far enough to think about getting out of bed yet. Back to the grind stone...

Four hours went by of the same thing, except with harder contractions that never really went away (typiccal of pitocin). Vicki, the nurse, came in again to check me. No prgress! I was still really concerned with Dr. B coming back. She had really thrown me for a loop after seeing Dr. G throughout the pregnancy. He would have sent me home and told me to come back, not have started me on this nightmare trip and try to convince me that it was my fault!

I just kept thinking about Dr. B. Vicki tried to tell me that I was just hurting myself by worrying. I didn't know what else to do. That nasally whine kept saying that I was going to kill my baby.

Six hours later and still going backwards....less than 2 cms dilated now. Vicki has to call Dr. B. Who relays to Vicki that she is coming in and will probably section me, because I couldn't just "follow instructions."I couldn't handle the continous contraction anymore. I felt defeated. I asked again for the epidural.

They came to give me the epidural and didn't mention risks or benefits, despite asking. I got a "do you want it or not?" They made everyone leave the room and I curled up sitting on the edge of the bed and scratching the boots off of Vicki (I did apologize). Having the epidural catheter put in was really horrible. It was the most excrutiating pain that I had ever felt. Then everyone left and Vicki told me to sleep.

My family came back in, David my cousin left (He had wanted me to have drugs all along and now that he felt I was safe he felt comfortable enough to go home.). My mom went to catch a few winks before the baby got there. I had total pain relief and still couldn't sleep. I was still scared.

About 5 minutes after I the epidural had taken effect I reached down to touch my belly. And it had definately changed shape, a shape I recognized as the baby coming. I reached further down and stuck a finger just barely between my legs, and I felt the baby's head!

I told Greg and Martha to wake up and get the nurse that the baby was coming! They laughed at me. Vicki was giving report and a new nurse came in, Jane. However, Jane had given me the non-stress test the week before after tha car wreck. She laughed too, but agreed to check me.

Everyone stopped laughing and started making phone calls! They wanted neonatology because of the meconium, and Dr. B wasn't there yet (thank goodness for small favors), and nursey wanted to set up a warmer in my room.

Jane started telling me how to push, because I certainly couldn't feel it. And I was doing a good job, until Dr. B walked into the room and announced, looking at the monitoring strip, that she hadn't seen the tracing of the heart beat for 20 minutes!I just wanted to scream at her! She started yelling that I wasn't pushing right and that I couldn't let air out, etc., etc.! She put on an internal monitoring and then griped because it was in her way!She put forceps on and saaid how perfectly they lined up.

What happened next was totally amazing to me, even now. I watched as she applied so much pressure on the forceps, I was waiting for her to put her foot on the table to help with leverage. I remember thinking that she was going to pull the baby's head off, and I wasn't afraid of the baby being dead, I was afraid that they wouldn't be able to get the body out of me! She grunted and groaned and finally slipped them off. She picked up a pair of scissors and as she sliced into my body exclaimed, "G-d, she's got a tight butt!"

The head was out and they suctioned the baby with the bulb and the Dr. B got in a fight with Jane over the wall suction not being hooked up.I was really upset and trying to be excited over the birth about to happen, I looked at Greg and said, "Last guess boy or girl?"

WHOSH! The baby was out and fighting! Dr. B screams, "Watch your fingers little one or you'll be missing some!" I am trying to see if we have a boy or a girl, because no one is saying, and I think I see a scrotum, so I say, "It's a boy!" Dr. B snaps back, "No you don't! It's a girl, I was too busy suctioning it's nose and mouth to say."

Hilary is whisked over to the warmer, despite the fact that I never got to see her really or touch her. Greg leave s and goes to the baby, as does everyone else in the room. I am totally alone, except for Dr. B. Who is complaining to the Scrub Tech that she couldn't get a paper at 8 am on a Sunday morning. The baby nurse is talking about another baby that the had delievered earlier that week. Not exactly what I had expected. What about my baby?

My sister and brother-in-law come in, Greg hands them the baby (she's 20 minutes old and I still haven't seen her). She weighs 7 lbs 14 oxs, and is 20 inches long. Her apgars were 9 and 9. Not too bad for supposedly not having a heartbeat for 20 minutes.

Dr. B is telling me how wonderful epidurals are and how glad I should be that I finally came to my senses. That she would want her epidural as soon as she walked in the door. I told her that I still wished I hadn't had the epidural, that it hadn't been unmanagable until the pitocin. Looking back I really beat myself up over the epidural, because no one thought I could make it without and I felt disappointed in myself. I now realize that this particular epidural saved me from a section because it separated my mind and my body, despite the fact that epidurals usually increase the section rate. It was a total of 20 minutes from when the epidural took effect and when Hilary was born.

After pulling my placenta out manually and managing a few more snide remarks she left! And I was allowed to hold my baby. I start to try and nurse her, and in walks Dr. B. "You have ugly breasts and they certainly won't feed that baby." Then she left again, never to be seen again (that day).

Everyone went home, and Greg went to sleep. Two tiny nurses had to pick up my anesthetized body and put me in a bed.My baby was far away in a nursery warming up under a warmer, despite the fact that research says she would have been warmer on my body with some blankets.

When the epidural wore off, I could barely walk, and my blood pressure was doing funny things. I had a third degree episiotomy and Hilary and I both had forceps bruises. I sat on a plastic ring for a week, and couldn't really walk well for almost two weeks. So, my recovery was different and long.

I turned Dr. B in to the hospital, my insurance, her practice, the AMA, the ACOG, Lamaze Institute, ICEA, and all the state and county places.I came to find out that she hated patients who wanted natural childbirth, and actually crawled over her desk at one couple. That she thought it was funny to hide sponges during cesareans, and treated other women like she had treated me.Her response to me at first was hostile, that she hadn't said or done these things. She made it sound like I was complaining because of pain during the birth, and reminded me of how well my epidural worked. I wrote her back and offered to watch my video taping of the birth with her and point out the specific instances I was complaining about. Her tone changed and I got a letter saying that she was tired and mine had been the 5th delivery that weekend and that she had had emergency surgery on her nurse the night before. She did lose priveldges at that hospital for 6 months.

During her first pregnancy, later that year, she continued to smoke, and got her epidural as she walked in the door. The difference was she had my doctor, Dr. G. He has a lovely bedside manner and doesn't believe in episiotomies and forceps. So, she had a much nicer experience than I did.

I had to come to terms with everything that happened and what I knew. Read Benjamin's birth to see how it worked out the next time.

Robin