I didn't sleep at all the night before I went in. I remember laying on the couch, willing Nibs to come. I bargained with a God I wasn't even sure I believed in. I cried, begged, and only gave up at 5 am when I finally realized that she wasn't coming. I turned off the TV and laid there, trying to soak up the last hours with my sweet baby inside.
I know I should have been excited that the next day I was going to be a mommy. But instead, I was sick. My stomach churned with the thought of what was going to happen to me. Everything about a cesarean terrified me: being unable to move, being cut open, being completely at the mercy of drs, who are known to mess up. But, I thought I had no choice. I wish I had known I could say no.
I checked into the hospital at 7 am. They hooked me up to all the monitors I'd been hooked up to before, during my non stress tests. I was even in the same room. First, 'my' nurse came in to visit. She had a Chicago accent, much like my grandmother, and that felt very comforting. She let me know that my Dr had picked her specifically, and that he knew I was scared, and she would be with me through the whole thing. She was very, very nice... But like everyone else, she was so dismissive of my fears.
And then came the Anesthesiologist. From the moment she set foot in the room, I didn't like her. She was curt and dismissive and let me know that if I needed it, she would give me 'extra' meds to help me get through it. It sounded so much like a threat.
And then we were left alone. Me, my momma and my partner. It felt like forever. I wanted it to end. I'm ashamed to say I begged for a general, so I could just sleep through. I was told no, of course, but it ways I thought it would be better. Finally, they came to walk me to the ER.
For all the staff in the room, I felt incredibly alone. It took three tries to get the spinal placed. As soon as it was in and I was beginning to numb, I knew that something was wrong. I could feel nothing below my neck! I couldn't move my arms, my hands. The dr came in and told me how proud she was of me... For what?! For meekly allowing them to do as they saw fit instead of allowing my body to do what it was built to do?
I have never been so relieved to see my partner in my whole life. He came into the room, eyes full of sadness and took his seat near my head. Even though I couldn't feel him holding my hand, I felt better. At 10:01 am, Nibs hatched, screaming. I could see the pediatrician rubbing on her and cleaning her up. She was huge!
I couldn't even touch her when they brought her to me. I had to just look and watch as they wheeled her out of the room and my partner followed. And then, the dr began telling her assistant about her upcoming vacation...
I am told I had to be medicated for a panic attack. That I might have moved and injured myself. Next thing I know, I'm in another room, covered in blankets, with a nurse discussing my rapidly falling temperature. I begged her for my baby. For my mom. For my partner. I was alone for another hour, until I regained feeling in my arms and my temp stabilized.
I was lucky in that, as they wheeled me to postpartum, my daughter got wheeled to me as well. When we were in the room, I told the nurse I wanted to breastfeed her. She rolled me to my side, pulled my breast out of my top and laid my baby next to it. There was no instruction, no help. Luckily, my baby wanted me badly and later, I had my MIL to help me.
This experience, and the lack of support afterwards, are what have inspired me to seek out a training program in being a doula once I finish my MFA. So far I have attended one birth, but I have read and learned so much. My hope is to be able to inform other women and Eli them have better experiences. Even if it does have to be cesarean, it doesn't have to be like this.
Jessi
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