I don’t even know where to begin. I had my beautiful baby. She’s gorgeous, and I love her to pieces. That’s a good place to start I guess.
Deborah Elizabeth Baker was born at 12:18am, December 31st, 2009. She weighed in at 9lbs 9oz, and 19.5″ long. Labor was about 9 hours long. December 31st was an interesting day, beyond just her birthday. It was the 2nd blue moon of 2009. An occurance that isn’t expected to happen again until 2028. Somewhere over Europe it was also eclipsed, which is pretty crazy rare. A special day for a special baby.
I wish I could say she picked her birthday. She didn’t. It’s somewhat ironic that I’d joked from early in my pregnancy that she’d be born on the 31st. I didn’t expect that labor would be forced.
Let me back up.
Last Wednesday, wow I can’t believe it was a week ago already. Anyway last Wednesday I went in for my missed NST. I knew going in it was a bad idea. It would be so convienent to induce me – child care was taken care of, and the hospital was right across the street. My NST was normal. I was healthy, not contracting in the least, and Deborah was healthy and reactive. By all means I should have left right then and there, but the NP told me that the OB needed to talk to me, and that he was furious I missed the previous day’s NST. Clue 2 for the hard headed, walk away…
I didn’t. I should have. Better, I shouldn’t have gone at all.
The NP talked with us, and let us know that the OB intended to induce me that day – or I could leave AMA. It’s funny – against medical advice. Where is the medical need in inducing me just because he wanted to leave for vacation? I’d just had an NST – everything was healthy. There was literally no need. We talked for a long time. We went round in circles, but ultimately there was: be induced, or leave AMA. I should have left. It’s probably a good thing I didn’t – if only for what was to come.
At lunch time the NP kindly offered to buy us lunch. That was the last meal I got to eat for the rest of the day. I’m glad she had the foresight to offer, the hospital’s policy is an antiquated ice-chips only thing.
Around 2pm the OB arrived at the office. To say he was grumpy would be a bit of an understatement. I walked into his office and he immediately started yelling at me – top of his lungs – yelling.. Told me I’d broken my promise by not showing up for the previous day’s NST. Told me I was selfish and cared about no one else around me. Told me I was reckless, and dangerous, and that no other OB in town would touch me. Told me that he’d already sent my records to every hospital in town, and that I’d be met with an automatic cesarean if I showed up in labor. Told me it was my choice. What choice? A medically uneccessary induction vs. a medically uneccesary cesarean? Told me that all he cared about was my baby’s health. The NP watched all of this, I feel bad for her, she was stuck between her job, and me. To her credit she looked incredibly uncomfortable the entire time I was being dressed down by the OB. When the OB remembered she was there, he dismissed her.
Towards the end of his tirade, Dan asked me to go out and sit with the lady who had given us a ride, and let her know what I’d need at the hospital. I left both reluctantly, and relieved. I didn’t want to leave Dan alone, but at the same time I had to get away from the OB. I don’t know what Dan told the OB, but when I saw him at the hospital later, he was at least civil. Whether it was due to whatever Dan had said, or being in a different/more public setting, I don’t know.
We walked across the street to the hospital. I used to think the term “birth rape” was a little harsh. Sure, it might have been that bad for the woman involved, but subjectively, it wasn’t that bad.. Yeah, and then I had to voluntarily walk across the street to an induction I didn’t need, and didn’t want.
The OB had called ahead, apparently still in full fury. The OB nurse that met us was very clear I had to follow his orders or it’d be her behind. “But don’t worry – he’s really a great doctor” she’d say over and over again. His orders were that I be hooked up to a low dose pitocin drip, and continous fetal monitoring. I wasn’t to be allowed out of the bed, except to use the restroom. When he got to the hospital he was going to break my water. Apparently I’m a scary enough patient, they had to bring in 2 nurses to tell me that.
My pitocin levels were increased every half hour until I was at 10million units/minute. Sometime around 5:30-6:00 nurse Ratchet (un-uniformed, un-ID’d) came in and upped it to 12mu/min. I don’t know who she was, or what she was doing in my room, but I only saw her twice. Around 7pm there was a shift change, and my new nurse was positively wonderful. She really deserves a medal or something. She let me up to walk around off the monitors, gave me a backrub, held the fetal heart monitor in the weird awkward position that it had to be in to pick up the baby’s heart – for what seemed like hours. She’d trade off that job with Dan, who was flat out amazing. I think more importantly, she was happy, and cheerful, and just a good presence to have around – she never made me feel like I was being a burden, or taking her from something else she had to do.
Around that same time, the OB came in and told me he was going to break my water “later”. Later turned out to be around 9pm. Things went quickly, if very painfully from there. I’ve never had my water broken before. It’s an experience I’d like to never repeat. I have a hard enough time with random people sticking their hands in my vagina. Having one I don’t like, and couldn’t trust was.. a real test of.. I don’t even know, test of me I guess. To sit there for what seemed like ages, though it was probably only 5 or 10 minutes with his hand up there, slowly letting the water out was very hard. He said there was meconium in the water, but Dan said it was clear, and slightly yellow up until the end when it got a little foggy. Deborah didn’t have any signs of meconium staining at birth, so I think he was just looking for something.
After he finished breaking my water, he told me I had til midnight to have the baby, or he’d take me to surgery. Unexpectedly he also offered Dan the chance to catch. I was pretty amazed by that.
My contractions, which were painful, but easily workable became unbearable. I don’t really remember much of this time, other than whining at Dan that I wanted it to stop. The nurse came in at some point and suggested I flip over onto my hands and knees. That helped, and didn’t. The contractions hurt a whole lot worse, but I could feel Deborah starting to descend, so I knew they were being really effective. At somepoint after that I started falling asleep between contractions – which I guess, I always do at the end? Dan told the nurse that they should get ready to catch because that was my sign that things were getting really close. The nurse took his suggestion to heart, and wheeled in the 2 carts containing all of the delivery stuff – most of which ended up unused – and went to go tell the OB. 10 minutes or so later I started feeling the need to push, so I did. Dan hit the call button, and Deborah was head and shoulders out before the OB made it into the room. He helped Dan with the rest of the birth, and was rather annoying with his need to suction and rub the heck out of her after she was born. I understand why he did it, but it wasn’t necessary.
Deborah was born covered in a thick layer of vernix. None of my children have ever had so much vernix still on them. She nursed quickly, and has been doing a fantastic job since. After the initial rubdown/suctioning the OB backed off for a while and just did his thing. At some point he put a bowl under me so I could birth the placenta into it. Shortly after that he let Dan cut the cord. He called her weight at 8lbs 5oz, and justified his actions by the presence of 2 true knots in her cord. Said they were the reason for her being so tiny (later she was weighed – not so tiny after all), and that if he hadn’t induced when he had, “bad things could have happened”. It’s ironic to remember that at my appointment we were both healthy, when she was born she was healthy – he had nothing to do with her health.
I have to schedule an appointment at some point to go back for a post partum check. I’m really truly dreading it. I don’t mind the idea of seeing the NP again – she actually called the next day to see how things turned out, and to mention she agreed with me on not wanting to induce. She really is a good person. I can’t see that OB again. He was supposed to do my tubal, but I can’t have him *in* my body, so that will have to wait, I guess.
In the meantime, while I despise her forced entry, I am wholly in love with my little girl. She truly is a precious gift, and I thank God that her birth despite it’s means was relatively uneventful. Dan and I are going to pursue change, although I’m not sure how. I do know he’s finally completely ok with me getting my “letters” and becoming a certified midwife. If nothing else so I can be a barrier between our daughters and this horribly broken maternity machine. I don’t know whether we will (or can) pursue legal action against the OB. I have no interest in his money – I’d like to see him appologize, and maybe take some anger managment/control issues classes. Dan is committed to trying to fix the machine through legislation. With the current health bill debate, it seems like a good opportunity to start with some reform of the maternity system.
In the meantime, I’m going to try to work through my feelings and enjoy my baby as much as possible.