Richard Brian- A Hospital Birth Story

It’s been almost four years since my son was born, but I’ve never written down the story of his birth. I was 18 when I became pregnant with him. (He was planned.) My husband and I had just found out that I had stage II endometriosis and that I would very likely have trouble conceiving. I was told that I had to try to conceive for a year before any sort of fertility treatment would be covered. Peter and I both knew from the beginning that we wanted a family, so we started trying right away instead of waiting until we had been married a year as was the previous plan.

I got pregnant the first month of trying. Peter would not believe me or the multiple tests I waved in his face. Since we had just gotten married, my insurance was in a lapse period because I was no longer covered by Tricare since I was married, but I couldn’t get on my husband’s insurance until our marriage certificate came. When I was almost 10 weeks pregnant I totaled my Taurus in an accident with a truck. In the emergency room we saw our son for the first time. Peter changed into a different man in an instant. He was a father the second he saw that tiny heart beating on the monitor.

My pregnancy was fairly easy. My only problem was I had started passing out when I hit my third trimester and had to go on disability from work since they wouldn’t put me on modified and let me sit. Other than that it was pretty regular. When we found out it was a boy we decided to name him Richard after Peter’s father.  (It’s a tradition in their family- Peter’s older brother was named after his grandfather, and Peter was named after his great grandfather.) We chose the middle name Brian after peter’s older brother who passed away at 10 months and after his grandfather.

I had always known I wanted to give birth drug free and breastfeed. That’s how my mom did it, and I’d watched her breastfeed my sisters. But before becoming pregnant id never really looked into what happened at birth. I started to read. I started with What to Expect, then became disgusted and picked up The Birth Partner by Penny Simkin. I was amazed. Who knew Epidurals were so dangerous? Who knew they did all these interventions that were unnecessary? I armed myself with a large, heavy duty birth plan. Peter’s friend at work brought up the idea of a water birth, since that is what his wife had done. At first I was against it, until I researched it. Suddenly, I NEEDED a water birth. I called the hospital. No way in hell were they going to let me do that. So I called a midwife. I was only two months away from my due date and she wanted 3500 dollars. It was too much at the time, but looking back on it, it is a decision I will always regret. Peter wanted to go unassisted. I said no way! It’s my first baby! I’d like to be in the hospital if I can’t have a midwife! (I laugh now).

We took a birth class (done by the hospital).  We got lucky and had a DONA doula as our instructor. We were the ONLY ones in the class going natural. We stayed after the last class to ask her lots of questions. She gave us the first hint that we may be up against some opposition. I had thought our wishes would be respected. After all, it’s my body, baby and birth, right?

I went into labor on my due date. (Again, I laugh). I wish we’d waited longer to go in but it was my first baby. I was 3.5 cm when they admitted me.  First thing they wanted to do was hook me up to an IV. I gave the nurse my birth plan and she said, “This is fine, but we have policies and standard procedures, so you are going to have to be flexible for what is best for you and your baby.” I refused the IV. She said. “You HAVE to have the IV. You can’t say no.” I demanded a waiver. She said she could forgo the IV line but I HAD to have a hep lock for emergency.  We fired her and demanded another nurse. That didn’t go over well but we got one that immediately brought me the waivers. When the OB on call came in I told her flat out what I expected. She kind of poo-poo’d me., and told me that if I wasn’t drinking enough water to fill up the bowl in the toilet then she would require an IV. I don’t remember much of her because I hardly saw her. She did however let me do intermittent fetal monitoring for 15 minutes every hour, and then I could get up and walk around. I was doing pretty great. Didn’t hurt that bad unless I was lying down. I didn’t know I was still in early labor. Haha. I labored on my own terms for about four hours.  The OB came in and told me to stop drinking water, I was drinking too much. She checked me and said I was only at four centimeters, and that he was posterior. She told me shed never seen a vaginal posterior birth, that they almost always ended up in c section, and if I didn’t progress in an hour I was going to have to have Pitocin. I cried and cried. I’d done my homework, but not enough to know that my baby would be fine and that the almighty OB was wrong. I was NOT risking my baby’s life trying to avoid c section. I was so young and just coming out of the brainwashed minions that think doctors know all.  She came in 30 minutes later and said she could break my water and see if that would help, or it was Pitocin for sure. I gave in. I know better now, but I gave in then.  Then my Ob informed me her shift was over and she was leaving me with a CNM.

She came in and I handed her my birth plan, which she told me to give the baby nurse, and that should would respect my wishes as well as she could. Then SHE went on an hour lunch. Immediately after she left my contractions went from manageable but requiring concentration to holy hell. Worse, they wouldn’t let me up. They made me lay on my back strapped to the machine from hell (EFM) to watch his heart rate. It dropped. The nurse said “he must be sleeping. Drink some juice to wake him up.” Now I look back and I’m like, “what the f?” (his head had started to descend into the birth canal-which usually causes a drop). I pleaded and begged to be unstrapped and off my back. She refused. I screamed. Other nurses came in and told me to be quiet; I was scaring the other patients. Peter just about killed them. He went to the EFM monitor and unstrapped me himself and helped me to the bathroom while the nurses were sputtering and turning purple. I told him I had to go to the bathroom and peters mom perked up (all her babies were natural too) I was out of it. I got in the shower despite the protests from the nurses and let the water go full blast on my back. It hurt so badly. I was so scared. I thought, “If I’d only been in labor for 7 hours and only got to four and a half cm I still have 7 more hours to go- of THIS pain and worse. I can’t do this!” I started to cry and panic and told peter I wanted an epidural, that I couldn’t do it. (Again, insert laughter here) He was obviously upset and told me I didn’t need one, I could do it. I screamed at him I needed one, That I was sorry, that I couldn’t do it, that I was so sorry….. I felt like a failure. Like id let him down, myself down, my baby down.

He left me with his sister and mom and went to find a nurse. She said she’d get the anesthesiologist but I was required to have an IV for the blood pressure drop associated with Epidurals. I said ok. They hauled me back to the bed, strapped me back down and stuck (I swear) the largest damn needle they could find into my hand with nothing short of maniacal glee. I was writhing, crying, screaming. I was locking up and tensing against every contraction. I felt out of control. I couldn’t breathe. I couldnt force my body to go with it and open my lungs.  i felt like i was throwing up but backwards.I was peeing all over, amniotic fluid was gushing out with every contraction, and it is all a bit of a fog, thank God. Then the nurse said the anesthesiologist would be fifteen minutes. I almost died. No way could I make it fifteen more minutes. Peter had to leave the room he was so upset. He caught the CNM returning. He told her I was getting an epidural and she was surprised. She said id been doing so well. Then she heard my screaming. She ran into the room. Peter said that she said “she wasn’t doing that when I left!” and that she glared at a nurse and asked if they’d checked me since it started acting that way. She threw on some gloves and got half a finger in. All I remember her saying is “It’s time to have this baby! It’s time to push”  

I remember everything going quiet all of a sudden. Like time stood still while I processed it. I couldn’t believe it. I’d only been four cm an hour ago. Peter cried he was so relieved. She broke down the bed, called din the baby nurse and had me hold my legs back in the assumed position (you know the one). Peter helped with one leg; his mom was by my head (I think). And I PUSHED. It felt soooooo much better than trying to hold him in. Until he started to crown. It was like hitting a wall. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t push through it. It felt immovable, painful, and scary. Then the hormones hit and I PUSHED. I pushed and pushed and screamed and pushed some more. Then she said, “Stop pushing and breathe!” and at 5:01 AM January 27, 2009 his head slid out after 8 minutes of pushing, posterior (sunny side up).

 It was a feeling I will NEVER forget. Then I felt him rotate, and one shoulder was born, then the other. She said, “Look at your baby” I looked down and there he was, half in and half out, pausing between the worlds. I reached down and pulled my son out of my body.  I laid him on my stomach and started crying. Peter was crying and so was his mom but I only saw that later in the video. All I could see was Richie. After his first hearty cries he peed all over me.  The CNM left his cord alone like I asked until it had blanched. The peter cut it and I started to nurse him while I delivered the placenta.  They left us alone for about an hour like wed asked then came and got him for the newborn exam. Peter went with him and never let go of him. I was sutured up for a second degree tear in the meantime. He was 7lbs, 9oz 21 inches long.  Then I peed, got into a wheelchair and was handed my son again, and they wheeled me to postpartum.

That was a different horrible experience. I won’t go into that. Let’s just say I was ignored, then woken up all night,  and chastised for feeding him too often, then for not often enough, then for refusing to circumcise him that first day, then for refusing hep b and vitamin k (although the baby nurse had been fine with it and for us refusing the eye ointment). It was awful. But my son was perfect, and beautiful, and all that really mattered. 

 

Months later after I really processed it and did more research I came to the conclusion that I was wronged. My husband was wronged and my son was. We were robbed of the beauty my birth could have been. I was robbed of birthing without fear, without someone telling me I was a stupid, young mother who was harming my child. I wanted to educate others, and to not allow that to happen again to anyone if I could help it. Big plans, I know. But I do what I can, where I can. I am now a midwife. No one is turned down from a homebirth in my practice for inability to pay. I will work with anyone. I will answer any questions. I want everyone to have the birth they want, and deserve, and to experience what I did when I finally and my own homebirth.