My Second Birth Story

I thought I would continue in filling y'all in on what transpires for "normal" births around here.

It is now September 5, 2006. 

We stayed with our first OB/GYN because we really liked him.  However, he moved from a private office and affiliation with the General Hospital to Head of the Dept at Montfort Hospital.  I foolishly thought that working in the hospital would have him doing the delivery.  2nd time wrong on that score.  I was going to encounter another group of strangers running in and out off the room with no regard for me or my desire for quiet.

At around 5am I am awoken with mild contractions that don't feel strong enough to cause any alarm so I rest until it is time to meet my oldest son's kindergarten teacher at 11am.  Yes it is the first day of school.  And yes I manage to cram my unusually large bottom onto a toddler chair whilst enjoying the mild progress of labour.  Nutter!  I should have called and postponed it.  But it never occurred to my vacant pregnant brain.

I wanted to move things along so by 2pm I was power walking through Bayshore Shopping Centre and I mean I did 4 laps of the top floor in less than ten minutes!  Seriously bookin my butt.  After 5pm I felt that I had waited long enough and we were going to the hospital.  My contractions were plaguing my lower back, hips and pelvic bone so I wasn't comfortable anywhere but on my sides.  They put me on my back and check me out, only 2cm dilated.  "Go away and come back later."  Seriously!  I was less than 5 minutes apart and I had to leave!!  

It takes over 30 minutes to get home and I was not going home, so we wandered around an abandoned section of hospital, it was the day clinic area, and conveniently had a washroom, where I needed to pee a million times!

By the time things are progressing enough to say that I can no longer walk during a contraction it was after 8pm and I was marching myself back up there and refusing to leave.  Thankfully, it didn't need to come to that as I was far enough along that they let me stay.  I was surprised to notice the lack of nursing presence in these next two hours, however, as there weren't enough to go around and September is a popular month for deliveries....Merry Christmas(hehehe)!!

But I was visited by a quick acting nurse and rushed into the delivery room.  Well, she tried to rush me, I preferred to walk at my own pace!  The nurses tried to get the anaesthesiologist to come in but I didn't want it, even though I couldn't say a word.

What happened to me was surreal.  Without numbing drugs to take me into a different reality, I went into a different reality anyway, but it was wonderful, swirly and clouded.  All I felt was the movements my unborn son was doing.  Sure there was heavy breathing, discomfort, pain.  But it fell so much more connected, beautiful and real.  I knew that I was probably scaring the crap out of DH who told me how proud he was of me, how much he loved me and how sorry he was that he did this to me by whispering into my ear for some kind of privacy.  I couldn't respond but was overwhelmed with love for him that I know I cried and that it was probably misunderstood. 

Before I could get a grip on what else was going on I heard a nurse say that the drugs weren't coming, even though I didn't care, and another say that it's too late anyway.  I knew that baby was coming, my muscles were doing things I never thought possible, yet they shouted at me not to push.

Did these people come from the same place???

How can you not when your body says yes!! do it!! now its time!!

I literally had to squeeze my knees together because I felt him sliding out and there was no one paying attention to me to catch him....They were to busy with their damn computers and the millions of questions that they asked twenty times! seriously!  (and had to answer another hundred before my three days in hell were over!)

After that I was finally able to push, and with two pushes he was born....I threw in a loud scream for the hell of it even though I didn't feel I needed to really, but wanted to protest the whole shebang.  After getting stitched up by a student, which did a lousy job of it, even though I yet again felt it wasn't needed I was trying to breastfeed for the first time, with everyone coming and going with no regard to privacy or quiet. Not successful.

But this time no one took him away from me, although they lost his blood work three times over the course of the next three days and kept hacking at his heels to do it again, and this was on top of the few times they "missed". 

I was brought to a shared room, even though I wanted private, at around midnight, a window seat again.  I was left alone for a while but come morning my troubles were to start again.

September 6th, 2006

In comes the nurse, the breakfast tray, and a few loved ones....and my oldest boy with the sweetest ceramic flowers....because they last forever, Mommy!  I was out of diapers very soon and when I asked for more was scolded for not bringing my own. 

What?? Did I miss the memo??

I didn't have a hospital tour and my delivery was two weeks early but I don't think that would have changed for this info was just plain wrong!!

That is when I met my first "personal care" nurse...AKA  The Breastfeeding Nazi.

I was faced with a pushy woman with clown makeup, (not kidding, hot pink cheeks and lips and bright blue eyeshadow!)  She kept at me...try again, no not that way shove more breast in with the nipple.   I got a great latch finally, however there was nothing coming out and he was screaming at me for the work he was doing with no rewards.  Then she had me massaging my breast to help the flow and every time I did, it would pop out of his mouth.  She asked me to give it a good squeeze so she could see how much was coming out.  Then she asked my DH to help me squeeze and massage my breast for me!  Well, OMG!!  This was kept up every two hours!!  I was hurting from all the squeezing and jaw grinding my baby was doing.

Then the lactation consultant came in, "So your not succeeding are you??"  Does that sound like a nice way to ask if I could use some help?  Where is the warm person who is supposed to understand??  She didn't have any kids either....what is with that??  Now to make matters worse, my beautiful window view became a little muddied up by the big burly man standing outside my window with a hammer in his hand.

DOES THIS SOUND FAMILIAR???  WTF!!

Honestly four years later, and the same predicament.

My first two days were a whirl of the Nazis poking and prodding me repeatedly, nagging me and scolding me.  Not only were they refusing to give me anymore diapers they flatly refused to give me formula to feed my baby because he couldn't get enough out of me, even after they brought a gigantic rolling machine to suck the milk right out of me.

So I did what any self respecting mother woulddo....I had my DH sneak out to buy diapers and ready to serve formula and I snuck it to him when the nurses left me alone long enough.  They felt they had succeeded in converting me into a breast feeder.  I continued to try because I wanted to so much, but I wouldn't starve my baby and let him scream in hunger for hours.  

Day two and day three were by far the worst of the three days I spent in there.  A new set of nurses came on and was poked and prodded again, and scolded for having hemorrhoids....I didn't actually...and scolded for trying to feed my baby when I felt he wanted it instead of by a clock.  And then the man outside my window was there again, and another outside my door with a loud scrubbing machine and strong smelling chemicals to strip the floors of the filth....I hadn't slept well at all.  The nurses kept taking him out of my room at night to I would "stop fussing with him and get to sleep already".  They had made the woman in the bed next to me cry that last night because they told her not to pick up her crying baby and cuddle with her and talk and sing with her.  The nurse turned the woman's light out herself before leaving the room....I opened my curtain (which they adamantly leave closed)  and told her that it was beautiful what she was singing (some kind of sweet Arabic song) and to not stop, it didn't bother us. So gratefully, she did, and I fell asleep too!

The next morning I was harassed by a camerabed woman and told her to leave me be, I was not interested.  But no others came by.  Until the first nurse of the day.  I told her I wanted to go home before the end of the day and wanted to make sure that I would get my paperwork from her before then.  In a huff, she said that I would not leave until the doctors cleared me to go.  I have to add here that I was getting feisty with this woman because for the last three days she kept treating me as a stupid invalid who could not care for her child, and when I constantly reminded her that this was my second and I knew what I was doing and wanted to get back home to care for them both, I was met with more disdain.  But she got the point when the lunch time tray was brought in and I was dressed, packed and the baby was in his car seat....we were leaving whether she liked it or not and I was prepared to leave without the papers too...I figured my doctor could pull strings and get copies for herself when she needed it.

I was almost not given permission to leave however as they lost my baby's blood work again, now the fourth time, and I refuse to allow them to take any more.  The pediatrician said "then we can't keep you, he's been fine  and you'll see your doctor soon enough anyway".

So we left. Finally after 6pm.

It is interesting to note here that with two births, one drugged and the other not, how different I feel toward each child.  The connection is definitely different between the two, and there is a part of me that feels robbed by that loss of connection.