update with storyI have her permission to post her story. It is not pretty. Please continue to keep her and family in your prayers.
I had contractions all day Thursday. They were fairly intense, but never very long. In fact, I didn’t get any contractions longer than about 30 seconds until the pushing phase. My in-laws came for a visit, so I wasn’t in a very good space. I realized fairly quickly that she was definitely posterior, because I felt the contractions almost exclusively in my back--I didn’t feel anything like this in my other labors. Thursday evening things really started to get serious. I had to moan to get through them--those deep “cow” noises from my diaphram really helped a lot. I could feel the vibrations all the way down and it toned down the intensity. Between contractions though, I felt great. I watched Ghost Hunters with my husband, and we laughed and talked in between. I was so excited! I walked, swayed, leaned over the birth ball, took hot showers, ate, drank, and did whatever I wanted, when I wanted. It was so nice. Around 2 am Friday morning, I knew I was in transition, because I began to doubt my ability to see it through to the end. J was great--he was right there telling me he knew I could do it, and it was almost over. Shortly after, my water broke. It wasn’t audible, but I felt a definite “pop.” It actually made me smile, because I had arom with my other two. I looked down and noticed the water was fairly green. So she has some meconium, no big deal. Shortly thereafter I had an overwhelming urge to push. So I pushed. I pushed on my hands and knees, standing, sqatting, hanging from around J’s neck. This went on for hours. I could feel her up against my pelvic bone. I held on to some built in shelving and had J press down on my thighs, and I could feel her move…but not far enough. I knew instinctively that she was alright, and that if I had one more pair of hands, she would move and be out quickly. Unfortunately we don’t know anyone, at least anyone we feel comfortable enough with to invite to our birth, so at around 7:30 am, we decide to call EMS, figuring that would give us the extra set of hands. That was probably the single most stupidest thing we’ve ever done in our lives. How naïve I was to believe they would do what I asked then I could send them away. The EMTs were four young guys who were pretty freaked out by a woman in labor. All they could say was, “are you crowning?” over and over. Both of us try to explain what it was we needed and all they could say is, “breathe, are you crowning? We have to get you on this gurney.” Finally I gave in and went. Second most stupidest thing I’ve ever done. When we get to the hospital, there was no doctor there, only nurses. I refused to get on the bed, and asked the nurse to please just put their hands on my thighs as I hung off the side of the bed to help me get this baby past my pelvic bone. She actually did! One good push with a set of hands on both of my thighs was all it took--I felt baby push right past! A doctor runs in--she’s not the on call doc, the on-call doc is on her way--she’s there for a scheduled elective c-section at 8 am. This doctor yells for me to stop pushing and get on the bed. I tell her no, and she yells for the EMT guys who are still in the hallway to help get me on the bed. I give in rather than be manhandled. Another contraction hits and I push, and of course, baby’s crowning. She (doc) yells at me to stop, grabs that nasty betadine stuff and starts scrubbing me, then literally throws a cup of mineral oil over my crotch. My husband and kids walk in then, just as L’s head pops out. One more good push, and there’s her body. I start to say, “give her to me,” doc yells, “THICK MEC,” and cuts the cord before I can even finish saying it. They had her off, and I demand for her not to be suctioned. Believe it or not, they listened. However, at this point, doc grabs the cord and starts yanking, and says that the placenta is having a hard time detaching, and I need to push. I give a tiny test push, and know it’s not coming, so I tell her NO! STOP PULLING! STOP! STOP! STOP! I’m screaming by this point, because she’s pulling with all of her might. I grab my belly where I can still feel it attached and beg her to stop, telling her it’s attached, STOP STOP STOP! My husband is saying the same thing…then it comes out. She tries to pull it away, but I scream at her again. She then says “Your placenta looks odd. You may have had a collapsed fibroid come out with it.” At this point, I’m getting tunnel vision, and a ringing in my ears, and say that I’m gonna pass out. You guessed it, this bitch has pulled out my entire uterus. The on-call doc walks in, takes a look at all the blood pooled in everyones hands, and at the “collapsed fibroid” the other doc has in her hands, and freaks out. From here on out, everything is very spotty. I remember a nurse bringing my baby over and telling me I needed to kiss her now, and people saying, “stay with me,” and “screw it, this is gonna hurt” right as they shove a tube down my throat. I remember the blinding pain as they keep hitting walls trying to run to the OR. I remember that stupid doc not holding my uterus close enough to my body as they’re trying to get me to the OR and how much that hurt. I don’t remember anything else until I wake up in recovery. With 4 doctors and a half a dozen nurses, They managed to get my uterus back in, and heavily dose with Pit and Cytotec, as well as two other uterine contracting drugs. I lost 3 L of blood. When the doctor who did this crap to me, she came in with the attitude that she’d saved my life. Two other doctors came in and told me they didn’t understand why I’d lost so *little* blood and bled so slowly. I’m thinking, thank God for the alfalfa supplements, and thank you C, for posting all the info on it--that’s what got me to take it. My blood count kept trending down for the next couple of days, and I got two units transfused yesterday. I was released this morning. The hospital stay was horrible. I explained over and over again that I got the blood tests and an ultrasound with my GP, but I didn’t like my OB, so I never saw a reason to go. I explained I took my blood pressure, weight and measurements. I was still treated like a criminal. A lady from Social Services came by. They kept asking me about alcohol and drug use, as well as domestic violence. They did all this stuff to my baby, because I was so irresponsible as to not get “adequate” prenatal care.
I have cried myself to sleep every night for being such a failure. I think, “oh my god, I didn’t try to push while sitting on the toiled, I didn’t try while in a semi-reclined position…what if, what if, what if!” If I were to ever get pregnant again, I wouldn’t change a thing. I would still UP, and I would still UC. I just don’t know how to get over my failed uc.
I also don’t know where to start. I can’t let that woman do to anyone else what she did to me. State Licensing Board, ACOG, AMA? I don’t know--but she CAN’T get away with it…