Parenthood Lesson 1: Forget
what you planned
I knew I would be induced
early because I was diagnosed with preeclampsia. I had a date set, but after some usual
testing, my doctor decided to move up the date.
The date change was the beginning of many changes that would come in my
birthing plan. I checked into the
hospital on a Thursday afternoon at 3pm.
I was nervous, but ready, or at least that was what I was going to tell
myself (over and over again).
I labored for well over a day
with no pain medicine, not even a Tylenol.
It was uncomfortable but as long as I could get out of bed and sit on a
exercise ball I could handle it.
Contractions came every four minutes like clockwork for hours and I was
determined to give my baby the most natural birth possible. I was naively convinced I could do this.
After 24 hours, I decided to
get pain medicine. I was dilating slowly
and needed to sleep so that I could push.
After 24 hours of contractions 4 minutes apart and some pain medicine I
enjoyed a nice nap. Then I was told I
would be put on a drug that would slow my central nervous system. It was for the preeclampsia and would keep me
from having seizures during active labor.
I would be bed ridden and I wouldn’t be able to walk or get on my ball. I knew this would make labor unbearable. The worst place to be during labor is on your
back. I did the unthinkable. I agreed to an epidural. My husband wanted me to agree to a c-section,
but that was not necessary. I could do
this. I would birth my baby
“naturally.” The word “natural” had a
new meaning now.
I took a nap. I got an epidural. That made the Pitocin a little more bearable
and the sleepiness bearable. For a few
hours I was great. My water broke. I was on the right track and I was confident
I could handle it. Then the unthinkable happened (again).
I woke up with enormous
pain. The contractions were ten times
worse than anything I had endured during labor or EVER. They tried administrating more pain medicine
but nothing, absolutely nothing would work .
They were going to take out the epidural and reinsert it. But before they did that, they examined me
and I was 10 centimeters dilated. It was
too late. I was going to get my wish and
experience a natural childbirth. Of
course at this point, my baby and I had the drugs in our system for nothing. My
body was literally slowed, I was exhausted, I had tons of drugs being
pumped into me, and it was all for nothing.
Sometime later, I have no
idea how long later, because it was all a blur I started pushing. I was so tired that when the contractions
came I put everything in them and rested in between. I hoped that this would be quick, especially
if I worked harder. I wanted my baby out
and safe. During every contraction I was
told to push 3 times. Always the over
achiever I pushed 4 times. The pain was
horrible. My husband says my face would
turn purple. I pushed and I pushed. I begged the doctor to tell me if I was doing
something wrong. She assured me that I
was pushing the right way and doing everything right. She assured me the baby was moving down. After two and a half hours I saw this look of
dread and despair on my doctor’s face. I
knew something was wrong. I knew she was
holding in something that she didn’t want to tell me. Maybe she needs to work on her game face or
maybe I am just that good at reading people (it’s probably the first one).
The doctor informed me that
my baby’s head was turned and could not get under the pelvic bone. She said I could keep trying if I
wanted. I asked her to be honest with
me. If I kept trying would it make a
difference. She said “honestly, I don’t
think it will, but I’ll be here if you want to keep trying. Cristina, you have done everything
right. You have done a lot more than
most people would have done.” With that
same look of reluctance and disappointment for me, she recommended a
c-section. My husband at this point
begged me to agree to it. He says he
never knew how strong women were. That
was enough for me. I knew my blood pressure
was rising with the pain, exhaustion and stress. I knew my desire for an experience was not
worth risking the life of my child or my own.
Because even though I was very focused on her safety, I desperately
wanted to be there to mother her. That was something I knew she would
need.
Less than 20 minutes later I
was on the operating table. I don’t know
time after that only that on Saturday at 10:57am I heard her for the first
time. After months of feeling my baby
kick and spin and move I heard her cry, and I am pretty sure she was crying for
me. The Neonatal doctor was present,
because we were high risk. My husband and I were assured that she was examined,
that she was ok, and that she was well enough that the neonatal doctor had left
the room. I implored my husband to go to
her and stay with her. I did not want
her to be left alone. Shortly after she
was brought to me for some skin on skin contact and she went to the nursery
with my husband. That was the last thing
I remember. There is nothing like
knowing your baby is ok and your husband will take care of her to let you
finally sleep.
That is how Catalina
Elizabeth came into the world.
There are people who say that
as soon as you hold your baby you forget all the pain you went through. I will not be forgetting any of that
experience. 38 weeks of morning
sickness, 40 plus hours of labor, two and a half of pushing, and an emergency
c-section, will not be easily forgotten.
But neither will the fact that every ounce of pain, every fear, and
every worry were absolutely and completely worth it. I will remember this love always, even when
she is a teenager and hates me. I would
do it a hundred times again for her and I will do it for the rest of my
life.
