I have 5 children.  Four of my children were born in the hospital.

 

Hospital Birth Number One:

 

Horrible, horrible, horrible.  That about sums it up.  I had high blood pressure (although my O.B. didn't point it out until quite close to my due date).  I was told that I would have to have an induction. I was made to come to the hospital a few days early.  

The whole night before my scheduled induction, I was barely able to sleep as I was kept awake by fear of the unknown, and from the noises of the labouring women on the floor.  In the morning, after being denied food (they didn't want me to vomit, I guess),  I was given massive amounts of Pitocin, my water was broken, and I was given a Pitocin pill as well.  I found the pain of this experience to be excruciating!  

My contractions were double-peaked and very long.  I was forced to lie on my back while in labour, and to wear an external foetal monitor. They inserted an internal foetal monitor into my baby's scalp.  I had to wear a blood pressure cuff at all times and had an oxygen mask on my face.  The pressure was unbearable and my back ached.  They would not let me stand up, nor would they let me up to urinate when I felt the need.  Most of the time while in labour, my husband and I were left alone in the labour room.  It was scary. 

A woman in the next room was howling like a wolf and I couldn't shut out the sound.  The washroom door stuck a bit, so the nurses in their wisdom sent for a maintenance man to repair it.  This, he attempted to do as I was in transition.  My husband sent him out of the room.  When I was fully dilated, I was wheeled down an internal corridor, stark naked and past several people, to a delivery room.  I was frightened when I saw the metal delivery table and the stirrups!  By this time, I was in so much pain that I couldn't stand it.  I begged for pain relief.  They gave me an epidural, but it only froze the toes on my left foot.  After some time, I asked them when the epidural would take effect.  They gave me another epidural.  Now, my entire left foot was frozen, but that was all.  Big deal!!!   

During all of this, the O.B. kept instructing me to push, but the baby was still so high up and I had NO desire to push.  Here I was, in serious pain and unable to obtain any type of relief.  They wouldn't let me stand or change position (I was still on my back with legs in stirrups), I wasn't ready to push, and the epidural was useless. The internal monitor which was inserted into my baby's scalp managed to become loose, so they feared that her heart rate was dropping too low.  Finally I begged for help.  I was administered some sort of gas and was rendered unconscious.  

At this point, they yanked her out with forceps.  Picture this:  The O.B. is pulling with all of his might on my baby's head using metal forceps, the pediatrician is holding on to the doctor's waist and pulling back, and one of the nurses is pushing down on my belly.  Finally, after two huge episiotomies (one from vagina to anus, and one off on an angle from the first), she was pulled free.  My 9 lb. 12 oz. baby daughter had ONLY a dislocated shoulder.  She was so bruised and her face was so puffy from the birth. 

My husband Jack described the experience as a "blood bath". When I awoke in the recovery room, my husband told me that we had a daughter.  I was so sleepy from the gas that I dozed off and had to ask him again.  I lament the fact that I was unable to be awake to see my baby being born.  I certainly feel like I missed a really important moment in my life. 

After a short "recovery" in the recovery room, I was wheeled to a ward room (the semi-private rooms were all full).  It was the start of visiting hours.  There were so many people in the room, and they kept looking in my curtained section, looking for their own loved ones.  All the while, the nurses were dealing with my bloody bottom and attempting to settle me in the bed.  I was freezing cold and couldn't stop shaking, nor could I stop my teeth from chattering. There was zero privacy and no dignity at all.  I was exhausted but couldn't rest due to all of the visitors in the room.

The hospital did not allow rooming-in.  Therefore, I was forced to bring her to the nursery for many times during the day.  I was made to time our nursing sessions and to record them on a card.  I also had to record all of her wet diapers and bowel movements. 

I now realise that her latch was poor and the positioning wasn't correct.  Breastfeeding was so painful but there was no one who could advise me.  None of the nurses noticed that there was a problem.  I truly believe that they were giving her bottles of sugar water in the nursery to quell her screams (she was the champion of screamers) so that her tummy would be full.  This would make her sleepy, and I had a terrible time trying to awaken her for the nursing sessions. By the time she was fully awake to breastfeed, the nurses would return to take her away again!

Due to my post-partum pain, I was unable to sit down and had to take strong pain medication to cope.  I was hallucinating in my room.  It was like I was awake and dreaming at the same time.  It was so weird. 

Finally, after 5 days, we were both discharged.  The nurse in charge of my baby gave me a hard time.  Rachel's weight had dropped one full pound, and she was reluctant to let me take her home.  She only relented when I promised that I would bring her to her paediatrician once a week.  It seemed as if MY baby belonged to the hospital, and not to ME. 

As for the O.B., his bed-side manner was atrocious!  He came in one day, looked at the "just starting to wilt" roses next to my bedside, and announced that since my flowers were dead, it was time to go home!  These were the beautiful red roses given to me by my husband, upon the birth of our first child!

After this experience, it is a wonder that I ever had more kids.

 
~Liz Fry

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