moonglowmama
03-06-2002, 10:16 PM
Hello all beautiful web-friends,
I actually went to post Stella's birth story last week after it happened, but I somehow deleted it all just at the end, and was so frustrated I'm only now getting back to it. But I've been so anxious to tell all of you about my experience.
Darci, I was so glad to hear about your birth-- I take it your daughter was born on the 24th? That is when Stella was born.
For those of you who do not know, our baby died about December 15th. We waited for the miscarriage, then had an ultrasound done early Jan. to confirm she died. Yes, it said, at about 12-13 weeks. So then the next 8 weeks were filled with tears, waiting, trusting,surrendering and lots of prayers, by us and for us, from church family especially who has been so good to us. From the time I first bled until Stella's birthday was exactly 11 weeks. In the interim I hardly bled at all.
Stella's birth:
It was Feb. 24, Sunday at 7:12pm. For the past 2 weeks I had been having brown discharge, followed by small amounts of bleeding. On the way to the bathroom I felt a kind of release (now I know this was her sac breaking). I checked my pad and saw a little more blood than usual. Then I looked between my legs and saw her hanging from me by her umbilical cord. My husband said I started making weird noises, so he came to check on me. I remember saying, "That's our baby. This is Stella." I picked her up with a piece of tissue and held her. I touched her. She was very small-- only 2.5 inches. But very clearly I could see her legs, arms, head and body. Her face had no discernible characteristics, but I think this is because some deterioration had started to occur. She was perfect, beautiful. Her birth was peaceful and joyful. She was born in the same bathroom I gave birth to Thomas (14mos) in.
We called our midwife and told her I had had the baby. I wasn't in labor, though, and so we decided the next 24 hours would tell a lot. Later that night I still felt fine. On mon. I went to see my midwife to check the size of my uterus. It seemed smaller, but we agreed that an ultrasound was a good idea, to make sure all was out. She was concerned about the placenta, and with good reason. The Dr. wouldn't give me an u/s appt until the following week ( no wonder they have to worry so much about malpractice). Anyway, it turned out for the best.
On tuesday, we had a really beautiful memorial and burial service. We bought a wooden box and I painted it with her name and some flowers to symbolize the children we have loved. Purple for Thomas who is living on Earth and white for Timothy( a previous miscarriage) and Stella who live in heaven. I sang "Great is thy faithfulness" and my husband read Psalm 40 which continues to have great meaning for us. Both our pastors came, as well as some family who loved and supported us in our decision. I feel we treated Stella with the respect and dignity she deserves.
I was feeling still crampy on Tuesday, but very little bleeding. Dh and I were worried about a retained placenta and so we prayed that God would cause my uterus to really clamp down and push out anything still inside and that I would not bleed too much.
At 3am Wed. morning I woke with contractions. I went to the bathroom and it seemed like blood just spilled out. (I actually wasn't bleeding very much, but you know how it is when you first get up). {a psychological note: I was also in the other bathroom from where I birthed my babies. It is white and i dreamed of a white bathroom filled with red blood just before I got prgnant and somehow associated it with my death. Anyway, that coupled with 11 weeks of people telling me of all the risks I was taking in doing it naturally culminated in a great fear overwhelming me and I wanted to go to the hospital because I was scared I was hemorraging}
So, I told dh to get the car and ds, we were going to the hospital. I did not want to even call my midwife, and that is my only one regret, and it's a doosy because of what happened to us at the hospital. I know my midwife would have been pleased at my progress, because after all, I was having regular, painful contractions, just like in the thick of labor. Bleeding with contractions is no worry, only without.
So, at the hosp. I was processed in. After about 1 hour of strong contractions and them making me sit on the bed, the dr. came in. This guy was a total bastard. I'm writhing in pain and he doesn't even look at me. I say,"I've got to go to the bathroom." I feel like hell. he says, "yeah, ok." but is sitting blocking the door and going over some questionnaire. As soon as he leaves I head to the toilet and feell awful. It hits me. THis is labor, I'm in transition. My husband crouches down next to me, ds in sling, and looks into my eyes. I'm jolted back to how I felt moment before giving birth to Thomas. Diarrhea, sick stomach, shaking legs, hot and cold, etc. Then plop, the placenta slips from my vagina and poof! I'm all better. THe bleeding almost immediately decreases and I'm ready to go home. It's 4:30. But, stupid me I'm at the hospital, might as well be prison.
By this point I had already refused a catheter, telling them Iwas perfectly capable of peeing, and if I needed a D&C they could put in the cath. after they gave me the drugs. Plus, the dr. (unknown to me) had chewed out dh for being under the care of a midwife. Big warning signs, there. Should have just walked out then, but I wanted to get the u/s, to make the trip worth it. Dr. said he wanted to do an exam. I agreed.Shouldn't have. There was no reason for an exam. He was brutal-- to skip detail go to next paragraph. He inserted these long q-tips into me and scraped my uterus. He stuck the speculum so far inside me the outside of my vagina tore and I think the inside was pretty brised up, if not torn also. It was pure torture. My dh just looked at me, trying to hold back tears, to be strong, me doing the same. I was thinking," I'm so glad Stella is where she belongs and not part of this." After what seemed forever it was over. We had 2 hours to wait for the u/s tech to get in. They said if I wasn't bleeding and the u/s was clear, then no D&C.
We talked to midwife several times during all this. They wanted to do a catheter for the u/s. I decided if they insisted, we'd leave. I was feeling fabulous (except for the anger at the dr) and just light bleeding by the time u/s time came around. That was also painful, but because of what the dr. had done to me. The tech ( woman) was trying to not hurt me. She said I looked clean, but her boss would say for sure.
Back in my room, waiting for the results. After some deliberation, we decided even if I needed a D&C, we weren't going to get it there, so we were done. ( my OB was at another hosp). I got dressed. I just wanted to talk to the ob there, so she could tell me what my risks were,what to look out for, give me a copy of the u/s report, etc. When she saw I was dressed she got pretty mad. She wanted to do an exam. I said," aren't I at risk for infection?" "yes." she said. "then I don't understand what the point of an exam would be. It seems it would increase my risk of infection for no reason." She got all upset and informed me of how she'd been doing this for 20 years. I asked to have a copy of the u/s report to give to my midwife. She said she did not have the report, had not seen it, only the radiologist had. So, this is what really gets me: here hse was about to do a D&C on me without first meeting me or looking at the report(I had to strongly ask her to talk to me and the nurse thought it best that the dr not know I was dressed, otherwise the dr wouldn't come down to talk to me, also, the dr said the report would be several days before it was in the computer for the drs to see, they were so back logged) Does that make any sense?
So, we signed out and left. My recovery has been great. I took it easy for a few days and my midwife got me on antibiotics to try and help reduce my risk of infection, because of what the dr. did to me.
So much of this is venting. Stella's birth was beautiful, everything I could have wanted. Had I stayed home, all would have been beautiful and it probably would have taken a lot less time to get the placenta out. But I did the best I could and learned that lesson I keep learning: to trust myself. To trust my body, it does not lie to me, it does not know how to. And, it is perfectly capable in matters concerning birth.
Obviously, I have huge issues with the hospital and especially with the dr. who did that exam. But one thing I feel passionate about is that I know how virtually impossible it is to allow your body to do its work in a hospital. There is so much to overcome. It is no wonder to me that so few women can birth naturally while in the hospital. Everything is a battle, and it is hard to hear that voice speaking in whispers, the voice from within.
I'm glad to finally be able to share my experiences with you. Women, be bold and trust your body to do its work- your reward is more than worth the work.
Thanks for letting me vent and share and for being my encouragement during this time. I will keep in touch, as I am forever changed.
Sarah
I actually went to post Stella's birth story last week after it happened, but I somehow deleted it all just at the end, and was so frustrated I'm only now getting back to it. But I've been so anxious to tell all of you about my experience.
Darci, I was so glad to hear about your birth-- I take it your daughter was born on the 24th? That is when Stella was born.
For those of you who do not know, our baby died about December 15th. We waited for the miscarriage, then had an ultrasound done early Jan. to confirm she died. Yes, it said, at about 12-13 weeks. So then the next 8 weeks were filled with tears, waiting, trusting,surrendering and lots of prayers, by us and for us, from church family especially who has been so good to us. From the time I first bled until Stella's birthday was exactly 11 weeks. In the interim I hardly bled at all.
Stella's birth:
It was Feb. 24, Sunday at 7:12pm. For the past 2 weeks I had been having brown discharge, followed by small amounts of bleeding. On the way to the bathroom I felt a kind of release (now I know this was her sac breaking). I checked my pad and saw a little more blood than usual. Then I looked between my legs and saw her hanging from me by her umbilical cord. My husband said I started making weird noises, so he came to check on me. I remember saying, "That's our baby. This is Stella." I picked her up with a piece of tissue and held her. I touched her. She was very small-- only 2.5 inches. But very clearly I could see her legs, arms, head and body. Her face had no discernible characteristics, but I think this is because some deterioration had started to occur. She was perfect, beautiful. Her birth was peaceful and joyful. She was born in the same bathroom I gave birth to Thomas (14mos) in.
We called our midwife and told her I had had the baby. I wasn't in labor, though, and so we decided the next 24 hours would tell a lot. Later that night I still felt fine. On mon. I went to see my midwife to check the size of my uterus. It seemed smaller, but we agreed that an ultrasound was a good idea, to make sure all was out. She was concerned about the placenta, and with good reason. The Dr. wouldn't give me an u/s appt until the following week ( no wonder they have to worry so much about malpractice). Anyway, it turned out for the best.
On tuesday, we had a really beautiful memorial and burial service. We bought a wooden box and I painted it with her name and some flowers to symbolize the children we have loved. Purple for Thomas who is living on Earth and white for Timothy( a previous miscarriage) and Stella who live in heaven. I sang "Great is thy faithfulness" and my husband read Psalm 40 which continues to have great meaning for us. Both our pastors came, as well as some family who loved and supported us in our decision. I feel we treated Stella with the respect and dignity she deserves.
I was feeling still crampy on Tuesday, but very little bleeding. Dh and I were worried about a retained placenta and so we prayed that God would cause my uterus to really clamp down and push out anything still inside and that I would not bleed too much.
At 3am Wed. morning I woke with contractions. I went to the bathroom and it seemed like blood just spilled out. (I actually wasn't bleeding very much, but you know how it is when you first get up). {a psychological note: I was also in the other bathroom from where I birthed my babies. It is white and i dreamed of a white bathroom filled with red blood just before I got prgnant and somehow associated it with my death. Anyway, that coupled with 11 weeks of people telling me of all the risks I was taking in doing it naturally culminated in a great fear overwhelming me and I wanted to go to the hospital because I was scared I was hemorraging}
So, I told dh to get the car and ds, we were going to the hospital. I did not want to even call my midwife, and that is my only one regret, and it's a doosy because of what happened to us at the hospital. I know my midwife would have been pleased at my progress, because after all, I was having regular, painful contractions, just like in the thick of labor. Bleeding with contractions is no worry, only without.
So, at the hosp. I was processed in. After about 1 hour of strong contractions and them making me sit on the bed, the dr. came in. This guy was a total bastard. I'm writhing in pain and he doesn't even look at me. I say,"I've got to go to the bathroom." I feel like hell. he says, "yeah, ok." but is sitting blocking the door and going over some questionnaire. As soon as he leaves I head to the toilet and feell awful. It hits me. THis is labor, I'm in transition. My husband crouches down next to me, ds in sling, and looks into my eyes. I'm jolted back to how I felt moment before giving birth to Thomas. Diarrhea, sick stomach, shaking legs, hot and cold, etc. Then plop, the placenta slips from my vagina and poof! I'm all better. THe bleeding almost immediately decreases and I'm ready to go home. It's 4:30. But, stupid me I'm at the hospital, might as well be prison.
By this point I had already refused a catheter, telling them Iwas perfectly capable of peeing, and if I needed a D&C they could put in the cath. after they gave me the drugs. Plus, the dr. (unknown to me) had chewed out dh for being under the care of a midwife. Big warning signs, there. Should have just walked out then, but I wanted to get the u/s, to make the trip worth it. Dr. said he wanted to do an exam. I agreed.Shouldn't have. There was no reason for an exam. He was brutal-- to skip detail go to next paragraph. He inserted these long q-tips into me and scraped my uterus. He stuck the speculum so far inside me the outside of my vagina tore and I think the inside was pretty brised up, if not torn also. It was pure torture. My dh just looked at me, trying to hold back tears, to be strong, me doing the same. I was thinking," I'm so glad Stella is where she belongs and not part of this." After what seemed forever it was over. We had 2 hours to wait for the u/s tech to get in. They said if I wasn't bleeding and the u/s was clear, then no D&C.
We talked to midwife several times during all this. They wanted to do a catheter for the u/s. I decided if they insisted, we'd leave. I was feeling fabulous (except for the anger at the dr) and just light bleeding by the time u/s time came around. That was also painful, but because of what the dr. had done to me. The tech ( woman) was trying to not hurt me. She said I looked clean, but her boss would say for sure.
Back in my room, waiting for the results. After some deliberation, we decided even if I needed a D&C, we weren't going to get it there, so we were done. ( my OB was at another hosp). I got dressed. I just wanted to talk to the ob there, so she could tell me what my risks were,what to look out for, give me a copy of the u/s report, etc. When she saw I was dressed she got pretty mad. She wanted to do an exam. I said," aren't I at risk for infection?" "yes." she said. "then I don't understand what the point of an exam would be. It seems it would increase my risk of infection for no reason." She got all upset and informed me of how she'd been doing this for 20 years. I asked to have a copy of the u/s report to give to my midwife. She said she did not have the report, had not seen it, only the radiologist had. So, this is what really gets me: here hse was about to do a D&C on me without first meeting me or looking at the report(I had to strongly ask her to talk to me and the nurse thought it best that the dr not know I was dressed, otherwise the dr wouldn't come down to talk to me, also, the dr said the report would be several days before it was in the computer for the drs to see, they were so back logged) Does that make any sense?
So, we signed out and left. My recovery has been great. I took it easy for a few days and my midwife got me on antibiotics to try and help reduce my risk of infection, because of what the dr. did to me.
So much of this is venting. Stella's birth was beautiful, everything I could have wanted. Had I stayed home, all would have been beautiful and it probably would have taken a lot less time to get the placenta out. But I did the best I could and learned that lesson I keep learning: to trust myself. To trust my body, it does not lie to me, it does not know how to. And, it is perfectly capable in matters concerning birth.
Obviously, I have huge issues with the hospital and especially with the dr. who did that exam. But one thing I feel passionate about is that I know how virtually impossible it is to allow your body to do its work in a hospital. There is so much to overcome. It is no wonder to me that so few women can birth naturally while in the hospital. Everything is a battle, and it is hard to hear that voice speaking in whispers, the voice from within.
I'm glad to finally be able to share my experiences with you. Women, be bold and trust your body to do its work- your reward is more than worth the work.
Thanks for letting me vent and share and for being my encouragement during this time. I will keep in touch, as I am forever changed.
Sarah