I'm going to try and quickly explain my labor/delivery with my daughter again since it's been... geez, almost four years since it all happened. It will give you newbie's an idea as to why my family might be a little nervous about the upcoming delivery. Ok, so I doubt it will be as quick as I want it to be but I only said I'd try. ;)
I started having contractions at 4am on the 9th of June, 2005. I woke up my mom and she said go to bed. haha They weren't bad at that time and was more uncomfortable than anything. I finished packing my hospital bag (which I have yet to do with this pregnancy... and quite frankly when I was in labor was when I packed the last one... my husband says that's why I'm still pregnant, I never do anything on time) and went to bed. My husband was at work and I decided not to call him and freak him out. I woke up the next day after only about six hours of sleep and just didn't feel very good. The contractions were still there but I was in pain pretty much the entire day. There didn't seem to be an end to one contraction, it was just never ending. I called my OB around 1pm, still on the 9th and told them what was happening and that I was having a small amount of bleeding. I was told it was probably just from my exam the day before. I knew better but for whatever reason, doctor's offices never seem to listen to me. I don't remember doing much that entire day. I know I stayed in my mom's room for several hours, just laying on her bed and waiting for the day to end. I felt sick, not really in labor. At some time during the day, I had the sense to take a shower but to be honest, I don't remember it or when I did it. I don't remember a lot from those 48 hours or so. As the day wore on, I started having more pain and getting a fever. Eventually I believe it got to around 101. I sent my husband to work, figuring I would still be in labor for a long time. The pain was there but it's not like I was in immense pain and I had no plans of going to the hospital until I, at the very least, couldn't talk through a contraction. We (me and my mom) called my doctor's office to tell them that I had a fever and was having irregular contractions. He had me drink a large glass of water and lay on my left side but told me if the contractions became regular and within 5 minutes of each other, that I should come in. The fever didn't seem to be a big concern to him. When my husband made it to work, he called home and asked my mom how I was doing. She told him he may want to consider turning around and coming back. I now know that he drove at a ridiculous speed to get back in the short amount of time it took him to make what should've been at least a half hour drive. By the time he got to the house, I was having regular contractions and waking the dead with the amount of noise I was making. My brother looked a little green and probably thought I was going to drop the kid right there on the living room couch. One minute I told them we wouldn't be going anywhere for a while, as I still didn't feel I was in an adequate amount of pain and the next I was basically shoving their asses into the car. They did the routine stuff when we first got to the hospital and the first nurse I had sucked. Thankfully I only had her long enough to put a gown on and answer a few questions. The nurse that would be sticking me with needles throughout the night was an absolute angel. I can honestly say, I could not have had a better nurse. I was at 3cm when I was admitted (the day before I hadn't even been at 1cm) so I still wasn't at the point where I was allowed the pain relieving epidural. (drug from the gods) Don't think I wasn't begging for it though. I think I was nearly to 5cm when the doctor from hell came and stuck me in the back. He hit something he wasn't supposed to (I couldn't exactly see but my husband told me later, that blood came back into the needle instead of clear fluid) and he had to start over. I don't think the guy was gone very long when I told my nurse (in what to me sounded like a panicked voice) that I could still feel pain. She called in a doctor from home... at 3am. By the time he got there, I was extremely doped up and don't remember much other than the dude was pissed to be called in for what appeared to be no reason. He, not wanting to get another phone call, shot me up a second time. From that point on, I slept on and off. The only time I woke up was when the nurse told me I needed to roll over (the baby was having heart decels) or when I heard the monitor making the noises telling me she would be in to check me again. I was awakened to, 'Let's check and see where you're at. Oh, 10cm, time to start pushing.' And I was also aware of a weird smell in the room. My water had broken just before the doctor came in to check me. (yes my water waited to break until I was fully dilated) My mom and Shawn both said the smell was like something dead and they'll never forget it. My senses were a little dull I guess. I pushed for an hour before Jasmine was born at 7am on June 10th. (28 hours of labor) We had been told my entire pregnancy that I was having a boy. So when my jokster OB said it's a beautiful baby girl, my Mexican huband turned a shade of pale unknown to him. (my entire pregnancy he was saying he doesn't "make" girls, only boys... whatever buddy) It was about this time that things started to take a turn for the worst. There was a resident doctor who had never witnessed a birth from the time mom was admitted, to the time baby was born. He was in the room but hadn't really done anything except watch. (which is a good thing because I may have told him under no uncertain terms to step away from my who-ha or else... it would've been a meek threat considering I couldn't move from the waist down) My doctor told him to help remove the placenta. Dr. Doogie then told my doctor 'It won't come out.' I felt bad for the guy. He sounded pathetic and as if he felt like the biggest idiot ever. My doctor had just ended his 12 hours on call and I think he was a little snippy by then. 'Well, it has to come out.' What I heard was more along of the lines of 'Jesus you're an idiot.' ;) Alarms were going off in my brain but they were far away, nothing that made me wonder what that meant. My OB removed the placenta and then the blood came... and didn't stop. You see, when you have a baby, your body continues to contract afterwards. The contractions are there to close the blood vessels that were once attached to the placenta. If you uterus stops contracting, you bleed uncontrollably and without some kind of intervention, you die. My uterus had become severely infected by the time Jasmine was born. We have no idea how it happened, it just did. I was bleeding to death. And I was so doped up that I was pretty unaware of it. You could tell the mood in the room changed quickly and I noticed that my husband kept looking at my mom, over and over again. No one was saying anything to me though. I was being stuck in my legs with needles and I to this day, have no clue what was in those needles but there were a lot of them. It seemed they'd try one drug and it wouldn't work, so they'd shoot me up with something else. I remember thinking 'I have the effin' IV, why don't they use that instead of sticking me?' (remember I have an extreme needle phobia) I don't know how much blood I lost or what caused the bleeding to stop. I do know that at one point and time my OB's arm was in my uterus forcing it to contract. Yeah, try and get that image out of my husband's head. And suddenly, I remember very little from that point on. I vaguely remember getting stitched up, and remember that it took forever. I don't remember holding my daughter for the first time. The only image I have of her in those first few hours was after she had the goop put in her eyes and remembering why it was there. There are pictures of me holding her and smiling like a drugged up hippie at Woodstock. But I have no memory of holding her or those pictures being taken. (later I asked what the hell my mom and husband were thinking letting me touch her at all when I was clearly out of it... apparently their hands were never far from her little body) The next time I woke up, there was a nurse over me telling me she needed to check my fever. I don't remember what it was but I know I had one. (they checked every single hour that day) The next thing she said was that I had given them quite a scare and they were starting to wonder when I would wake up. (it was 1pm the same day that she was born... they had been trying to get me to wake up the entire day) Eventually, I was able to make it to the bathroom on my own... and glance in the mirror. It looked like my face had been beat to hell. The infection had spread so fast through my body that it left my cheeks bright red. When my mom came back to the hospital that day the first words out of her mouth were 'what the hell happened to your face.' And it was pretty much the same thing I asked the nurse. ;) I was on IV antibiotics for two days and they never stopped bothering me with thermometers, blood pressure checks and changing my IV bags. I hated the night nurse the most. Young girl who was entirely too chipper for 3am and who was also waking me up over and over again. I wanted to pull the IV out of my arm and stab her with it... repeatedly. By the 11th or 12th (I can't remember which day) I was begging to be let out. Let me go home. I'll do anything, just let me the hell out of here. I was eventually granted my walking papers at 9pm. And given large doses of antibiotics to be taken at home. A few weeks later, I got another infection. In my boob. And was put on more antibiotics. I would be on antibiotics three different times for different infections after I left the hospital. The only time I've been prescribed them since, was when I got an infected cat bite. Oh and they gave them to me for the rat bite as well but I don't remember taking them... it had been days since I'd been bitten by then. Both of the doctors I trust the most say that they've never seen a person get that infection twice so I shouldn't worry too much about it. It was enough of a concern after Jasmine was born however, that I wasn't sure I wanted to ever risk being pregnant again. Now that I've done some research, I know that if the bleeding had stopped soon, I would've been off to surgery and may have lost my uterus completely, if not died. So that's the story, as best as I can remember it anyways. ;) I know, that wasn't quick or short. But now you're up to speed.
3 years ago