6 years ago tonight, I was trying to sleep in my semi-private hospital room with J snugged in his isolette. The lady next to me had a C-section and baby had bilirubin problems and the nurse came in every hour or two and woke us up, but the lady kept her baby in bed with her. At the time I thought it was so weird…

It was a Sunday and we were watching the Tour de France. DH wasn’t at work because it was a holiday – July 4th. I was in our little kitchen doing the dishes and felt something trickling down my leg. I suspected, but wasn’t sure – I headed to the bathroom to sit on the toilet and as it gushed out I realized I wasn’t voiding and it was my water breaking. I was 37 weeks along.

I told DH and he ran about our little house like Dick Van Dyke – completely hysterical to me. I think the contractions started about 15 minutes later and within the hour they were 2 minutes apart and stayed that way until transition. We rushed to the hospital – sure the baby was crowning and found I was 1cm. I turned down an offer to participate in a program geared to prevent C-sections – you had to dilate 1cm/hour or you’d be put on pit. I was a sheeple then, but even so, I knew in my heart something was wrong with that program and I declined in disgust.

My nurse was 7 months pregnant and kept offering me drugs. At 4 cm (or so) I took a shot of Nubain. At (almost) 12 hours of labor I took another and it didn’t do a thing.

Luckily, I was laboring on a holiday and the OB I got was from a different practice. The nurses kept pushing drugs and finally convinced me to have an epidural. Fortunately, all I got was a prep – never got the epidural, since once I got prepped I felt the need to push. Of course, I was then discouraged from pushing until they were ready for me.

The OB showed up with gloves and scrubs and that was it. She was human and did perinal massage with some oil. I had NO idea what she was doing.

Categories: Parenting