I have taken all evening reading everyone's stories. Also debating writing about mine. I have never written about Paul's birth. It was just too hard to put into words.
First, I didn't do a lot before conceiving. We had been trying for a short while. The first pregnancy ended in miscarriage and I was pregnant again three months later. I was taking vitamins, pretty much the only thing I did to prepare.
For awhile I knew I wanted to homebirth and a natural birth. For me, it was birth that lead to NFL. Birth is where it all begins! I was raised by very mainstream parents who think sticking out is bad, so conformity was all I knew.
DH wasn't totally on board, but had the attitude that it was my body and I was going through birth so I should do it how I wanted.
Pregnancy went well. We picked a midwife that fit right between where I was (would have been fine with a UC) and where DH was (more medically minded at the time). We planned a homebirth. Halfway through pregnancy she had a tragic birth that really shook her. She said she couldn't do a home birth for us. We decided to stay with her. In the end, I was 42 weeks and forced into induction. We had been comfy waiting until 44, but her doctor said 42 was as far as she was willing to go.
DH and I almost didn't go to the appointment for induction. Seriously. I think we only went because we didn't know what else to do. We should have stayed home!
Of course you have the pitocin, the monitors. and all that. It was awful. I wasn't able to move. We started with some other medicine that I can't remember the name of and the pitocin started in the morning. At first it wasn't too bad. I HATED, just HATED the monitors. They wouldn't stay on and if I was in the bathroom too long the nurses came and bugged me about not having them on. (the bathroom was the only place I could get away from them). I wanted to move and not have that itchy crap on my belly. Things were moving slowly. I was hungry. They had been waiting for the doctor to get there for three hours to decide what to do next. She got there and I was not at all handling the contractions. I wanted all the people in my room to leave me alone so I could just cry and get it out of my system. I needed to cry and get past the horridness of being there and not at home. I needed to cry to get past feeling out of control. But I couldn't find my voice to tell them to leave. I was afraid of making them mad. I really just wanted to crawl into a whole and do my thing (this is what I had done with the miscarriage, totally alone at home in my own bed). So the doctor decided to break my water. I know at this point that i'll end up with a c-section because I can't handle this pain already, and I can see it in her eyes, that's what she wants.
This is where the meds start. First just something in my iv, then the epi. I hated myself. It was horrid. The internal monitor kept falling off his head, they had to poke him at least three times. I cried everytime I looked at his head for the first month (how long it took those spots to heal), and the internal contraction monitor hurt too. They thought I was crazy when i said I could feel very painful pressure from it.
Finally I was able to push, but of course I couldn't push right because I couldn't feel where to push. So they started with the heartbeat thing and we ended with a c-sec. I threw up. I wasn't able to hold him for a few hours because I couldn't feel my hands. A nurse (I wish I knew her name and I sure hope I thanked her) offered to hold him for me to nurse, he latched right on.
We had no problems after that with them following our plans. He was with us the whole stay. They did talk us into some test where they poked his heal because he was slightly, and I mean slightly jundice. Never again! On the second day the ped said we HAD to supplement because he was close to losing 10 percent of his birthweight. We had a great nurse that day and she totally handled it for us and stood up for our wishes. She put a note in his file and the ped came in and told us that we were going to end up having to stay longer if we didn't supplement. We didn't! My milk was in later that day. And i so wish I could have told her that just a week later, he had gained 14 ounces over his birth weight! Need to supplement my butt!
Recovery was so hard. It took a LONG, LONG, LONG time, and hurt a lot. I got PPD and almost ran away. I told Paul on numerous times that I was sorry that I couldn't take care of him and even more sorry that I had to leave. I still don't know what kept me from getting in the car, very glad I didn't though, sure I wouldn't be here now if I had.
Next time, home birth, no if ands or butts.
Julie
First, I didn't do a lot before conceiving. We had been trying for a short while. The first pregnancy ended in miscarriage and I was pregnant again three months later. I was taking vitamins, pretty much the only thing I did to prepare.
For awhile I knew I wanted to homebirth and a natural birth. For me, it was birth that lead to NFL. Birth is where it all begins! I was raised by very mainstream parents who think sticking out is bad, so conformity was all I knew.
DH wasn't totally on board, but had the attitude that it was my body and I was going through birth so I should do it how I wanted.
Pregnancy went well. We picked a midwife that fit right between where I was (would have been fine with a UC) and where DH was (more medically minded at the time). We planned a homebirth. Halfway through pregnancy she had a tragic birth that really shook her. She said she couldn't do a home birth for us. We decided to stay with her. In the end, I was 42 weeks and forced into induction. We had been comfy waiting until 44, but her doctor said 42 was as far as she was willing to go.
DH and I almost didn't go to the appointment for induction. Seriously. I think we only went because we didn't know what else to do. We should have stayed home!
Of course you have the pitocin, the monitors. and all that. It was awful. I wasn't able to move. We started with some other medicine that I can't remember the name of and the pitocin started in the morning. At first it wasn't too bad. I HATED, just HATED the monitors. They wouldn't stay on and if I was in the bathroom too long the nurses came and bugged me about not having them on. (the bathroom was the only place I could get away from them). I wanted to move and not have that itchy crap on my belly. Things were moving slowly. I was hungry. They had been waiting for the doctor to get there for three hours to decide what to do next. She got there and I was not at all handling the contractions. I wanted all the people in my room to leave me alone so I could just cry and get it out of my system. I needed to cry and get past the horridness of being there and not at home. I needed to cry to get past feeling out of control. But I couldn't find my voice to tell them to leave. I was afraid of making them mad. I really just wanted to crawl into a whole and do my thing (this is what I had done with the miscarriage, totally alone at home in my own bed). So the doctor decided to break my water. I know at this point that i'll end up with a c-section because I can't handle this pain already, and I can see it in her eyes, that's what she wants.
This is where the meds start. First just something in my iv, then the epi. I hated myself. It was horrid. The internal monitor kept falling off his head, they had to poke him at least three times. I cried everytime I looked at his head for the first month (how long it took those spots to heal), and the internal contraction monitor hurt too. They thought I was crazy when i said I could feel very painful pressure from it.
Finally I was able to push, but of course I couldn't push right because I couldn't feel where to push. So they started with the heartbeat thing and we ended with a c-sec. I threw up. I wasn't able to hold him for a few hours because I couldn't feel my hands. A nurse (I wish I knew her name and I sure hope I thanked her) offered to hold him for me to nurse, he latched right on.
We had no problems after that with them following our plans. He was with us the whole stay. They did talk us into some test where they poked his heal because he was slightly, and I mean slightly jundice. Never again! On the second day the ped said we HAD to supplement because he was close to losing 10 percent of his birthweight. We had a great nurse that day and she totally handled it for us and stood up for our wishes. She put a note in his file and the ped came in and told us that we were going to end up having to stay longer if we didn't supplement. We didn't! My milk was in later that day. And i so wish I could have told her that just a week later, he had gained 14 ounces over his birth weight! Need to supplement my butt!
Recovery was so hard. It took a LONG, LONG, LONG time, and hurt a lot. I got PPD and almost ran away. I told Paul on numerous times that I was sorry that I couldn't take care of him and even more sorry that I had to leave. I still don't know what kept me from getting in the car, very glad I didn't though, sure I wouldn't be here now if I had.
Next time, home birth, no if ands or butts.
Julie








) I believe in myself and my body. And NEXT time, I'm not going to let anything get in the way of that. My body can birth without tests, exams, ultrasounds, and EFMS. My body knows what to do to keep me and my baby healthy. Whatever that may be, I'll know it's the right thing
And my next child will get the option of breastfeeding as long as s/he wants because breastfeeding did not work out for my girls.




:
: To make a long story short, cascade of the usual interventions, tons of drugs, failed epidural, confined to bed, abused by hospital staff, and had a psychotic episode after being administered a very large dose of Stadol that pretty much erased the first memories of my first child being born. Somehow he came out, sunny side up, I suffered a 2.5cm pubic bone separation that popped so loudly everyone in the room heard it, and a 2nd degree tear + episiotomy. But it was a vaginal birth (and I KNOW many if not most other doctors would have put me under the knife way before all that happened. This was the one thing my OB did right, even if it meant letting me suffer for 20 hours. )
For those of you who experience trauma and loss, I'm so sorry! I hope that, with time, you've been able to find some healing and peace.
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I am in complete shock and awe!


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