Birth and Baby: A Little Bit of Truth

My husband and I had tried for eight months to get pregnant before being surprised the day after our first wedding anniversary with a positive pregnancy test. We were both so excited. At my twenty week prenatal doctor's appointment we found out that we were going to have a little boy. I knew even before they told me, but I was so glad to hear that I had been right. I had a rough pregnancy complete with bleeding, pain, and emergency room trips. I loved every minute that I had my son growing inside of me. I had no idea that my miracle would become a nightmare when my labor was induced on Election Day, 2008.

After suffering with Pregnancy Induced Hypertension (PIH), my obstetrician decided that it wasn't safe for me to wait three weeks for my due date. I was told right after my OB appointment that I was to return to the hospital to be admitted by three o'clock that afternoon. I was both excited and terrified. I had a sneaking suspicion that something wasn't going to go right. My husband and I got back to the hospital right on time and got settled into the room. The nurses didn't spare any time at all starting my medication to ripen my cervix. I was given one-fourth of a tablet of cytotec every few hours to help efface my cervix, and then I was to be given pitocin early the next morning.

My husband was extremely supportive that first night, and I had my best friend stay in the room with us also which was a great comfort to me. I had to be helped to the restroom, what with all of the cords trailing from my stomach. I am an extremely independent woman, and this really embarrassed me. But my husband was right there with me. The next morning when the pitocin was started I began having some moderately painful contractions and asked for some pain medication by IV. For me, this was sufficient pain relief and I had been refusing an epidural all morning. By this time my husband had started to disappear quite frequently and I was left with other relatives in my room a lot. This made me horribly y uncomfortable. I wasn't progressing very well at all and my doctor decided to break my water and insert an internal pressure monitor. My husband was not present for this, and I have unfortunately still not forgiven him. I wish with all of my soul that I had not refused that epidural. After my water was broken I went from being one centimeter dilated, to four centimeters dilated within an hour, and was told that if I continued to progress at such a rate, then I would be giving birth within a couple of hours. I screamed for an epidural. Because of the pitocin my contractions were so intense that they were jumping off of the monitors and causing the baby distress. After being in labor for ten hours, I was told that I would have to have a C-Section. I was crushed, and once more my husband was not present and could not be found.

My husband made his reappearance as I was wheeled into the operating room. I was terrified, but I wanted my son to be born healthy more than anything. My son was born at three twenty-five o'clock pm on November 5, 2008. Exactly three minutes after I was wheeled into the operating room. They took my son from me, after letting me kiss him, and led my husband from the room. I felt like I was in that room alone forever. The nurse kept pumping me full of drugs, and putting extra warm blankets on me. I didn't find out until later that I almost died on the table. I wouldn't have known if the nurses hadn't been talking over me while they thought I was passed out in the recovery room. I was taken to my hospital room and got to hold my son for the very first time. I knew at that moment that I could never feel that kind of love for any other person on this planet. He was perfect and amazing. The nurses inserted my morphine pump, and I, of course, had an allergic reaction. My husband took the next four days that I was in the hospital as time for him to rest. I took care of our baby all alone, refusing medication in order to stay awake with my son. The only time I slept was when we had relatives in the room, and when they took him for his checkup and circumcision. I was released on the Friday after I came to the hospital. Things got a little better when we came home, because my mother stayed with me and helped with the baby.

I can't say that my birth experience was a pleasant one, but I wouldn't change anything about it. Since my son has gotten older my husband has become a wonderful father, and I chalk his behavior in the early weeks up to first time daddy jitters. The moral of this story is that sometimes things won't go as planned, but you have to be able to accept your miracles in whatever guise in which they come to you.