When I was pregnant with my first child, I
thought the hospital birthing experience was going to be so beautiful.
But when I went into labor, I entered the hospital hurting badly and
crying. The nurse said they might send me home which made me cry even
more because I thought it couldn't hurt much more than that. I wanted
to have the baby now. A short time later they said I should stay. I
refused drugs until the nurse said, "This is your last chance for
Demerol." Since I had no clue to the possible pain yet to come, I
accepted.
I made the doctor aware on many occasions that I
did not want an episiotomy but was given one anyway. The doctor
offered me a bar to stand and hold on to. I accepted because I was
feeling comfortable with the staff but then a nurse walked in that I
had never seen before. She was eating from a bag of chips and yelling
"Push!" Twice, the staff and I turned and glared at her. The safe
feelings that I had were gone and I felt naked and uncomfortable. I
was very pleased that my husband, baby and I shared a hospital room
together.
I wanted to have my second child at home but my
husband would not agree to it and I had my worst childbirth
experience. I had read one of Sheila Kitzinger's books during my
pregnancy and learned a lot. The doctor had tried to get me to induce
labor on his 9 to 5 schedule at each prenatal visit. I declined and my
water broke at midnight. At the hospital I lay with my legs spread
wide apart. A nurse looked at me in disgust and told me to put my legs
together. I put them together until she walked out a few seconds later
and opened them again. Several nurses were having fits because my
three-year-old was there to see her sister being born. They said
things to try to have her removed but I insisted she stay and the
doctor okayed it.
The nurses offered me drugs but I declined. I
looked at the contractions on the fetal monitor which were very high
and made a comment to a nurse. She told me those were the mom's in the
next room (that I heard many screams of pain from) who was on Pitocin.
A nurse insisted she give me some shot in the hip that she said was
like Tylenol. I accepted but I felt the entire birth and it felt good
and right. The doctor arrived just in time to catch my daughter. He
was angry to have been up so early. He did not give me my baby and I
still tear up thinking of that. I wanted to hold her. The nurses
seemed surprised that I had a quiet birth but had nothing nice to say.
I asked the doctor if he could go home and sleep and he sharply stated
that he couldn't as he had to go to work. My baby had to sleep in the
nursery and my husband and I saw a nurse hurriedly throwing blankets
on babies which were slapping them in the face. When she saw us she
smiled and closed the blinds. I couldn't wait to get my baby and get
the hell out of there.
The doctor was very kind to me at my next visit
but it makes no difference to me. I don't like him. I did very much
like that my daughter Jacey, three at the time, did see her little
sister, Tessa, being born. She said, "There's the head!" She giggled
and said, "Oh, she is cute and adorable!" This line came from one of
her Sesame Street books and the nasty nurses loved it. She doesn't
remember watching and I'm sad that I didn't have it videotaped, but
knowing it happened and we were together is very special to us.
My third pregnancy was after my divorce. My
daughter's father did not want to be a part of her life. I had no
insurance and decided I would have her at home. My sister had her baby
at a hospital that helps the poor. She told me that the nurses were
herding the moms like cattle. She said the doctor was mad because
their labors were not progressing as quickly as he liked so he entered
a room full of moms and demanded they rub their nipples in the hopes
of furthering them along. She told me that a bloody sheet fell off of
one mom and a nurse picked it up and put it over her. After my nephew
was born, the doctor put him on a cart, told a nurse that he was blue
and left the room. I went right to the bookstore and bought Unassisted Childbirth and
another Sheila Kitzinger book.
I saw a doctor for a few prenatal visits and paid
cash for a sonogram. He advised me not have my baby at home. Some
coworkers put their noses in my business and had some not so nice
things to say about me but I felt very confident. A friend talked me
into letting her be there and introduced me to a midwife. The midwife
told us that my friend might have to put her hand in me to get the
umbilical cord. I did not agree. My friend was becoming too nervous in
my last month and I was afraid that she would call 911 and blow my
homebirth plans so I decided I would give birth alone.
The day I was due, I spent the whole day shopping
and was worn out and extremely tired. I went to wash a load of clothes
before going to bed and had a painful contraction. I brushed it off as
Braxton Hicks. My older daughters were ten days overdue and I thought
this baby would be "late" also. I went to bed and the pains continued.
I kept having to urinate and it was driving me crazy because I was
exhausted after a long day and wanted to sleep. I was to the point of
crying for sleep, not pain. At each bathroom trip I saw no sign of
birth. After many trips, I looked with a mirror and was shocked to see
my baby's head crowning. Suddenly I was wide awake and excited. I took
two extra-strength Tylenol.
My bed was already prepared for birth. I grabbed
my kit with scissors, alcohol, etc., and dove into my bed just in time
for the large contractions. I planned on giving birth in a squatting
position but was more comfortable on my hands and knees. I noticed my
cat watching from a corner and suddenly wondered if he would freak out
but he didn't. My daughter, Shae, slid out right under my face. I
talked to her and either called my friend or cut the cord next. It was
around four in the morning. After my friend arrived, I went to the
bathroom and waited for the placenta. My friend sat with Shae and more
friends came over. They took Shae downstairs and I laid down since I
hadn't slept all night. I was too excited to sleep! I was listening to
my friends talk about me and went downstairs to join them. They gave
Shae her first bath while I sat on some ice.
I did take Shae to see the doctor and received no
congratulations. He didn't even look at her. Like my other daughters,
she was jaundiced and had her feet poked. She cried and I cried. Why I
was stupid and put her through that, I don't know. I listen to other
people more than my gut sometimes.
Shae is almost four-years-old now and we sleep
together on the bed she was born on. I like telling older people about
her birth. Many of them were born at home but don't talk about it
because most people are afraid of homebirth. I'm glad that sharing my
story with them makes them feel happy.
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