Bear-Bear's Birth Story
This was 11 PM on a Saturday night, and my mom starts to freak out, while I paint my nails. (hahaha) Mom starts running around the house trying to find my bag (the one sitting right next to me), and we are off to the hospital lickity split. You know, the hospital that's only two blocks away.
Yes, this was my first baby, but I also had been to the hospital six times prior and I knew that no contractions meant a loooooong night for us all, so I was relaxing. Until I met possibly the worst nurse in the unit.
We will call her Big Blue for this story's sake. She was so nice until she asked where my husband was (trap!), and then she said, and I quote, "Oh so where are the adoptive parents?" Who the ... OK, I'll watch my language. So I spent the next few hours walking around with nothing, not one contraction, so in came the Pitocin—the devil that stuff is—and on top of that my midwife couldn't make it in, so every few minutes Big Blue would tell me I needed pain meds or an epidural.
Finally morning hit ... still nothing, only painful contractions and a mean nurse and a hung-over bf a state away. Then the phone call came. Our good friend had passed away and my mother accidentally told me out of shock.
Never have I seen so many doctors and nurses fly into a room, except on TV. Without knowing it, my body had sent stressors everywhere, causing my machines to blow up. I was crying and inconsolable. Finally my doctor came in and told me that if I didn't calm down, they would have to do an emergency C-section. I calmed down and people came and went until finally my doctor told me that my son had no fluid and he was turning out of stress and that if I didn't dilate in the next two hours, it would be a C-section. I started bawling.
I had a great plan with no meds and no problems, but ladies, it doesn't always work that way. I started saying, "I'm broken! I'm broken!" over and over again. Here I was so proud of myself. My life had done a 180. I was a 19-year-old with a great life and I wanted a natural birth. Well, an hour passed, and with no fluid and my son trying to get out, it was too much and I gave in and asked for a C-section. Turns out it saved my son's life: Any more pressure and he would have suffocated.
Now, not being able to hold my baby right away sucked, but he was alive and healthy and I was a mommy, broken or not!
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