This story comes with a disclaimer: If you are pregnant and scared of labor don’t read it.
Lady baby came right on her due date. Im not sure if thats luck or the fact that I did a bunch of things I read online to make sure she wasn’t late . I did not want another section and the best way to avoid that was by not needing to be induced. So I bounced on my birthing ball, took my evening prim rose oil, and drank my raspberry leaf tea like it was my religion.
We have to remember here that although this was my second birth I had not experienced any of it like this before. I had no idea when I should call the Doctor or how long it would take or any of those normal first time mom questions. So I of coarse called the Dr too early. He told me there was no way I was ready to go to the hospital, but if I wanted to go get checked I was more than welcome too. Well you know, Im pretty stubborn so of coarse We headed into labor and delivery.
They told me I was only 2cm, and that could last for a month so I was more than welcome to go home, or I could stay and walk around and see what happened. I will always not stay at the hospital if I don’t have to so we went home. The Hubbs went to sleep and I stayed up. I was too anxious to go to bed. One episode of Lost Girl and the contractions had picked up the pace. I walked around the house feverishly to distract myself from them. Finally they were so painful I got in the tub to see if it would help, but it didn’t. The moaning must have woken up Hubbs because he came into the bathroom rubbing sleep out of his eyes, which made me want to light him on fire. He was sleeping, while I was dying in the bathroom.
Our second round at labor and delivery we were 8 cm. we went through a million questions as I got undressed and once the epidural offer was on the table I jumped at it. I figured since I was not as fat as Og babies pregnancy it would work this time. Did you know that obese woman are more likely to have problems with an epidural? Me either.
Here is where the shit show begins. The anesthesiologist missed my spine, which resulted in spinal fluid spewing out of my back. When this happens your’e in for some fun. Of coarse at the time I could give a shit about the impending headache he was telling me about I just wanted him to re-stick the needle and make the contractions stop. The epidural kicked in immediately and I was beyond relieved. One of the many other problems I seem to have with epidurals is that I metabolize the pain meds faster than I metabolize pizza. So when My Dr came in to break my water and get the show on the road the epidural had stopped working.
Pushing Lady Baby out of my body was exhausting, and treacherous. I was over it and ready for a section. My Dr must have known I was mentally exhausted because he said
” Well Janika I never thought you were the kind of girl who would get to the door and not push it open.”
Now you might consider that rude, but it was a very calculated statement. I hate when someone tells me I cant do something. So I got my shit together and screamed my baby girl out into the world. Leaving me with a fourth degree tear, and a labor room that looked like an episode of CSI.
The minute they put Wren on my chest the world stopped moving.
I was instantly in love with this little person. She stayed on me like that for hours. I was completely and utterly over come with oxytocin. Thank goodness , because once they got me into my postpartum room I knew something was wrong. It honestly felt like a babies head was trying to push through my ass cheek. I told my nurse this, and she gave me the this chick is crazy look and said shed tell someone. I love my hospital I went back for my third baby there, but this one nurse I will never forget. If I had seen her again with the last baby I would have told her to get the fuck out of my room.
Whether she told someone or not I have no idea. Hours Later she came in again and I was not nice about the level of pain I was in. She again said it wasn’t time for pain meds and I had to wait. Basically nothing got done until shift change. If that nurse ever reads this i still think you’re an asshole.
By the time I was checked by a resident I had the biggest heamatoma the hospital had ever seen.The resident who stitched me up was obviulsy not qualified to deal with such a severe tear. Of coarse I don’t remember what they looked like. When I was getting stitched I was high off love. I got the magic pain med pump and finally fell asleep for a few hours. Now all this happened and I was still adamant about nursing my daughter.
The next day My Dr. came in and said he had to drain the hematoma and re-stitch me. I was wheeled into surgery and given heavy doses of fentanyl which is my favorite. I remember that surgery was full of Men. There was literally one girl in the room and I’m sure she had to be there to cover hospital policy. I remember holding the anesthesiologists hand the entire time and talking about Pizza. Before I could get drained I had to remove my urine from my bladder. Well problem number 3. I had a liter of urine in my bladder. Awesome sauce. Another lovely gift from the epidural.
I had to stay an extra day to see If I could pee on my own. During that day I started having vision problems. I had lots of visits from neurology, which all checked out ok. I filled up my urine hat and I was so ready to get home, and then they told me I had a really low blood count and could use a blood transfusion.
Oh hell no. This was day 4 of a nightmare. I was going to leave regardless of needing anything. The Dr gave me serious shit, and he sent his much surlier partner to try and convince me to stay, which also didn’t wok. I told you I’m stubborn.
I went home, stopped peeing again. Had to go back into the hospital to get a catheter bag. Went to the Dr for a urine screen ,and sent back to the hospital for the blood transfusion. Had to get an MRI done to make sure my vision problem was just a complication from the epidural and last but not least. I ended up with a UTI from the catheter.
Needless to say Lady baby ended up on formula. wIth no blood for two weeks I had no milk to give her. As traumatic as this experience was I went on to have another baby. This experience is an ode to the saying
What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.