I'm going to refer back to points from my C-Section Birth Plan just for reference since I did mention that most of these points were directly related to my birth experience with R. So bear with me...
We'll start at the beginning. Early morning trip to the hospital with broken water. I arrive, excited. R's heart rate was low. Not dangerously low, not yet. But considering I wasn't anywhere close to active labor, they wanted to be cautious. Called the doc. We'll call him Dr. Lamb for the sake of the story. Dr. Lamb suggested a c-section for fear that her heart rate would drop too low during labor. Mr. P and I were informed that we were doing an "emergency" c-section.
Most people that have been through an emergency c-section and those that haven't picture nurses rushing around, monitors beeping, craziness ensuing. Mine was none of those things. Since R wasn't in immediate danger, Dr. Lamb came up to the hospital and performed the c-section himself (he was not part of a larger practice). While we were waiting, they did my catheter (though this point is not on my birth plan, I have been informed that this is not a normal practice... nor should it be! Horrendous.), kept monitoring R's heart rate and walked me through what was going to happen. Doc arrived and we were wheeled back to the tiniest operating room I could have imagined.
*I do not consent to any students, interns, etc. watching the surgery. Participation by students is fine as long as a licensed physician or nurse is close by monitoring at all times.
This little point didn't seem important at the time. I mean, how are they going to learn if they don't watch and do. Except, I had no idea they were there. I have no recollection of anyone asking if it was ok. My husband informed me after-the-fact that my insides were on display for at least 10 people in an adjoining room. It's just weird. Birth is kinda a private, special thing. It was a little creepy.
The second part of that point... That was a little more personal. I had a great little anesthesiologist. Little spitfire. She did request if her student could perform the spinal and I agreed. Except she turned her back while this student was actually performing the spinal and all I can hear is, "No!!! Not like that!" Not exactly what you want to hear when someone is poking around in your spinal cord.
*Conversation between staff kept to a minimum (no casual chatter unrelated to the surgery) with focus being on making my husband and I feel as at ease as possible and kept informed as to what is taking place.
This one wasn't as big of a deal, except it was like Mr. P and I weren't even there. They were talking about traffic on the way to the hospital, and breakfast. It was again, just weird.
*I do not want a play-by-play of the surgery. General comments are fine, please do not give me detailed descriptions.
I am not terribly squeamish. A little, I don't like a lot of blood or looking at people's organs and what-not, but I can handle a little bit of gore, you know? But I was having a pretty bad reaction to my meds after R was born, really feeling sick and feeling like an elephant was sitting on my shoulders. The very kind nurse let me know, when I told her how I was feeling, that it was just transferred pain and pressure from them removing and cleaning my uterus. Like that was supposed to help me not feel sick. I immediately started dry heaving and couldn't stop. And the sweet nurse just kept going. Explaining that the pushing and tugging was them putting my organs back in. And the doc couldn't finish sewing me up because I was dry heaving so bad. So they put me under. I have no recollection of the end of my surgery, until I woke up in recovery with two nurses looking under my (still numb) legs. Thankfully, my husband spent all of that time (what ended up being an hour) with our baby. Watching them bathe her and holding her, taking movies for me, etc. He is a gem, I tell ya.
*I prefer spinal anesthesia, an epidural is my second choice, and general anesthesia is my last choice. I want the smallest dose possible to reduce recovery time after surgery.
So I wake up, and ask for my child. The one I delivered like an hour ago. Oh no, I can't hold her until my legs aren't numb. What in the world do my legs have to do with holding my child. I'm pretty sure they let vaginal births with epidurals hold their child moments after birth though their legs are still numb. But I was too drugged up to fight. So I slept.
*After I am finished with surgery, I want Baby to be brought to me immediately, even if it means delaying non-vital testing, medications, and bathing. I choose to nurse as soon as surgery is over and I am feeling up to it. I would like to be left alone while nursing, except for a lactation consultant, if needed.
*I want all vital checks for myself and Baby to be done as infrequently as possible, and done at the same time when they are necessary to minimize time away from Baby. This is especially important during the night.
I asked about every 15 minutes for the next two hours for my child. They finally brought her to me. Three hours after delivery, I got to hold my baby. Thankfully, the lactation consultant was just finishing up with another patient and I was able to get help with my first attempt at nursing.
The lactation consultant was phenomenal. She trained other lactation consultants and really helped us get the hang of it quickly. Unfortunately, she only worked Monday through Friday. Since I delivered on a Friday, she was not available the next two days, when reality hit. And the nurse that filled in for her was terrible. Told me that since I was in pain, she had a bad latch. So I spent the next two days attached to a hospital pump, forcing my husband to go home and get the special bottles we bought so we didn't have to use the crappy hospital ones, and generally feeling like a cow the entire weekend.
And the vitals checks. Every 30 minutes people. Every 30 minutes, round the clock. Because one nurse did meds, one did blood pressure, one did incision checks, one checked baby's diaper chart, one checked baby's vitals. It was brutal. No sleep. Besides the fact that my precious newborn sounded like a circus in her sleep, making all kinds of weird noises. Which we were pretty sure meant she was dying in some form or fashion. No sleep at all.
Monday rolls around, and the lactation consultant comes back and I ask her to give me some tips to help with R's latch. She takes a peek and says that her latch is perfect. Confused, I tell her that I'm in pain, a LOT of pain. She pops her finger in R's mouth and says, "Well, have you ever had a vacuum attached to your boob before? It's gonna hurt!" And that is advice I have given to every almost-new mom. Because no one tells you that. It's all lies. It hurts like hell for 2-4 weeks and then it's normal and awesome. But at first, it's awful.
A few hours later, I took home my perfect baby girl. 9 days after that, our fresh-out-of-med-school pediatrician told us to wake her up for feedings because she wasn't old enough to wake up yet, which started a 7 month cycle of not sleeping through the night.
But we were blissfully unaware that this wasn't normal, because we were so thrilled that we made this thing. This beautiful, perfect, thing, and we got to keep her.
But now we know better, and you do too. That birth was about the most abnormal birth I can think of that turned out well (though I'm sure you have your own crazy birth stories too). Including the part about the awesome lactation consultant. Most aren't lucky enough to have one of those. Maybe a mediocre one, but she was awesome. If I could hire her to drive here and be my LC now, I would.
And this is the story of my first birth. And I'm so thankful that I had such an awesome experience with the next two, because it made the decision to have more kids that much easier.
Now, you can enjoy the rest of your tea.
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