Noah's story

I got a survey in the mail today. You know- one of those “fill in the bubble and return to us in the self addressed stamped envelope” kind of surveys. Usually these go into the junk mail pile to look over at a later date. But this one got my attention; it was from the hospital where I had our son. Just seeing the hospital name on the return address label made my stomach uneasy.

I had talked with several friends about Noah’s birth shortly after he was born. However, there came a point where I couldn’t really talk about it anymore; it was just too much. Sometimes, if I am 100% honest, it is still too much.  Yet here I am this evening with a survey on my kitchen counter asking for feedback about my experience in their hospital. So here it is—Noah’s Birth Story.

June 3^rd, 2010 I spent most of the day at work but left a little early feeling uneasy and antsy. I just couldn’t sit in a chair any longer. I had the urge to go be girly for a bit and pamper my 9 months pregnant, past my due date, 198 pound self. (That’s right blog world- I just dropped the honest final preggo number I reached the day I delivered. Don’t worry I gasped too when I saw that number on the scale.) Anyway, I digress.  So I went and got myself a manicure, went home for supper and called my hair stylist extraordinaire and got my hair done at 7pm. I got home feeling as pretty as I could feel given the circumstance around 9pm, joked with josh about how it would be the perfect time to go into labor because I was looking “camera ready” and then got ready for bed.  At 11pm I started not feeling so well and thought I had a bit of a tummy flu, I had “cramps” (or so I thought) about every 4 or 5 minutes for an hour so I woke up Josh at midnight, convinced I was in false labor because real labor would just never start that fast or that strong right…..? From midnight to 1am Josh timed what by then I had realized were contractions. During that hour we were having them about every 2 minutes (sometimes closer than that) and they were about minute long. My stubborn self still thought it might be false labor because I was convinced real labor just would not begin that fast. Josh, a bit more level headed suggested, “hey, don’t you think it might be a good idea to go to the hospital, I mean it’s better to go and be in false labor than to not go and have our baby here in the living room.” He’s such a smart man. So he grabbed our bags and off we went to the hospital at 1:30 in the morning.

When the OB tech came down to the ER to take me upstairs the contractions were so strong I couldn’t really walk, my knees would just buckle so I was in a wheel chair, coming off the elevator the nurse instructed the tech to go ahead and skip the triage room where they check to see if your really in labor and go straight to the labor/delivery room. (Apparently those nurses are a bit better than I at detecting real labor vs. false labor haha)  Anyway they whirled around me in lightning fashion checked things out and told me if I wanted an epidural they needed to know immediately because I was already 4 cm and it would take at least an hour before I could have it.           -PAUSE-      Now, before this day I had gone back and forth about whether to have an epidural or not. I wanted to settle in and see if I could make it without one. I wanted to try to have as little medical intervention as possible if I could stand the pain. But when I got in there, scared, winded from all the contractions and was told I had to decide NOW- no waiting. I said let’s do it and consented to an epidural.  (Regret #1 of this story)

 The original anesthesiologist was kind of a jerk, apparently he didn’t want to be there at 2:45am but it got done and then….nothing.   A whole lot of nothing… the pain was very temporarily relieved for maybe about 2 hours but then it began wearing off. Many hours went by but things stopped progressing; I had contractions but they just were not productive.  Then a nurse came in a hooked my IV up to Pitocin.  She did not ask if it was okay with me or if I wanted it; she said things were not moving along so I “needed” it.

Let me just take this moment to say that I am pretty sure Satan invented Pitocin.

 It  got things going again for sure…. going horribly!  All in all I was in labor for a good 17 hours, much of that 17 hours with Pitocin dripping through my veins. Finally, I got to 10 cm and I thought for sure this would be over soon. But the nurse said I needed to “labor down” because Noah was still high to begin pushing. She told me with each contraction to just breath and not push even though I was at 10 cm!  That was ridiculous; at that point it would be like telling someone not to breathe…you just cant help it. After laboring down for a good hour and a half to 2 hours and then I heard the sweet, sweet words that it was time to push. The Pitocin was turned back on and I was contracting about every 45 seconds to one minute and pushing with every single contraction for 2 hours. Then it came to be 5:30pm, suppertime for all involved, except me of course and the doctor called the nurse out of the room. They came back in a couple minutes later and the doctor said she believed they should do a cesarean.  She said progress had stopped and she knew I was running out of steam. I believe I cried harder than I had ever cried before (up to that point at least) I did not want a c-section. She said it was not an emergency but that we had just been working too long. She explained, “it will be okay, it will just feel like I am standing on your stomach.” At that point, exhausted, crying and shaking the nurse directly came in with the consent form for the c-section. I wanted nothing to do with a C section delivery especially if it was not an emergency; but to be honest I did not feel at all like I had any say in the matter. The nurse looked at me visibly upset and commented that I didn’t seem able to sign the consent form and handed the form to Josh telling him to sign it for me. Of course Josh did so. I mean the doctor and nurse would not do the surgery if it was not 100% necessary…right…? 

Then they wheeled my bed to the operating room leaving Josh behind to come in after he was changed. They moved lightning fast around me talking about me as if I were not even in the room. It was terrifying. Then the anesthesiologist came in and administered a stronger dose of medicine into the epidural and I started shaking as if I was cold to the bone. I couldn’t control the shaking, my teeth were chattering and it was hard to speak. Then they began the surgery, I heard the doctor say to the resident,  “we need to be very fast, do you understand? Can you work fast?” It was uncomfortable at the beginning but tolerable. Then it happened- As they were getting ready to pull Noah out something went wrong with the epidural and I suddenly felt everything.  The most intense aching pain through my lower abdomen, shooting sharp and burning all at the same time. I started shaking my head sharply back and forth, as that was the only part of me that could move and hollering that it hurt soo badly. In my most terrified moment, I then hear a nurse on the other side of the sheet say; “she can’t feel that, it’s not possible” I just kept screaming- trying to breathe. I couldn’t believe what was happening. After what seemed a very long time (in reality only minutes) the anesthesiologist leaned close to my face and said, “I’m so sorry, but there is nothing I can do for you until that baby is out of you and the chord is cut- just a little longer.

Then I heard the doctor say that our son was out and asked if I wanted to see him. I could still feel everything and was shaking in pain as my body lay cut open on the table.  I said no. No! I said no to seeing my son in his first moments of life. All I could do was look at the anesthesiologist and holler out “please just make it stop.” And he did. I woke up about thirty minutes later in the surgery recovery. The doctor was gone; she didn’t stick around to see if I was okay. She went home for supper.

Now, I have nightmares about the surgery. I wake up at night sweating, thinking I’m on the table again writhing in pain. Sometimes I can’t fall asleep because I’m nervous I’m going to have that nightmare again and frankly I’d just rather not sleep

So…

Dear hospital,

     You wanted my feedback on my experience while there. Here is my response. Sorry I didn’t fill in the bubble. There wasn’t one that corresponded with “nightmare.”

Amber