When my wife was delivering our first baby, we chose a hospital. She wanted a home-birth, but I gave her no support. Her mom was apalled by the very concept. Our experience was marred by quite a few elements, not the least of which included:The Wrong Hospital
We were at the wrong hospital. We called our primary choice to tell them we were coming and they said they were "full", so we went to another. We found out later that they consider "full" when they have all but two rooms filled with birthing mothers, saving those for ER birth admissions. If we'd gone to the ER, we would have had a room there. We also found out that those rooms were empty the whole time we would have been there.The Wrong Doctor
The doctor was someone she'd never met before. (He was one of the three doctors in the practice, she'd met the other two. Hers was on vacation and her backup had his own patient in-house delivering, so we got the other guy.)Patient Abuse by Doctor
The doctor fisting
my wife and ripping the placenta out. She had just delivered, I was watching in a mirror because I was busy comforting her through it, I looked down and watched him push his fist into her and pull out the placenta. I looked down because she had gasped with agony. I didn't know enough at the time to know that wasn't the right thing to do and for that I feel ashamed.Unnecessary Medication
My wife (we discovered through successive deliveries) has a tendency to hit a plateau for a few hours and then come back with intense
contractions that make up for the "lost time." During her plateau, the doctor prescribed pitocin. She ended up having not only her intense contractions, but magnified
intensity due to the unnecessary pitocin prescription. Because the pitocin was giving her such intense contractions, she wasn't able to handle them, so they gave her an epidural. Because she couldn't feel anything, she pushed too hard and created an anal fissure.Intervening Nursing
Every ten minutes, all night long, constant annoyance, constant pestering, constant "evaluation". At one point, I got so crabby with them that they tried to have me ejected from the floor. "Look, I'm just trying to tell you to lay off my wife and let her get some much needed rest!" "Sir, if you don't let us do our job, we'll have to remove you from the delivery room."
...and the personal issues between my wife and I which had been the discussions during the previous two weeks about getting a divorce. (Hey! I grew up! We didn't get a divorce and I learned, matured and developed into a pretty decent guy who realized his mistakes!
Our home-births were soooooooo much better! So gentle! So peaceful! So resting! My wife has commented at every birth, lying in our bed, cradling the newest member of the family ("Fresh out! Brand new! Gotta love me!") that she really likes the trip from the delivery room to her bedroom--as she rolls over and snuggles into her pillow on the bed where she delivered.