Last time I wrote the entry into this blog I was still 6 months pregnant with my little baby … She is now 6 months old bundle of joy. I finally found the time to write the next entry. I will look back at the birth of my baby as a culminating even of the road to motherhood.
Giving birth in Canada
Last three months of my pregnancy were filled with events. For starters we decided to join a statistical majority. Apparently some 80 percent of couples move during pregnancy. In April we bought a house and moved. On the hindsight we should have looked for a bungalow, but we wanted to stay in downtown where bungalows are hard to come by. We ended up with a narrow tall townhouse with lots of stairs. Running up and down the stairs with huge belly was challenging.
Secondly, my pregnancy care was moved from my family physician to hospital obstetrician. My physician took really good care of me. On the contrary visiting the obstetrician was stressful and annoying. Waiting for an hour or longer only to be glanced at and told to comeback in two weeks. In addition, my baby kept turning and refused to settle head down. Three weeks before the due day my obstetrician has finally check me and assured that the baby has not dropped yet and will be definitely and certainly at least two weeks past due date. With such a certain assurance we did not rush with purchases of baby equipment. Still I did not like to leave such things for the last moment and few days after that visit to the hospital we did our last power shopping and assembled all baby’s furniture.
The next morning my husband left for work. Our cleaning lady came and I was doing exercises on my yoga ball when my water broke. With all I’ve read about labor I still believed my obstetrician. I was in a total state of denial. The only thing that moved me to go to the hospital was the need to be on antibiotics as soon as water breaks. Still I told my husband that there is nothing to worry about. It is just a fluke, but I am going to the hospital just in case. By the time I cought a taxi and got to the hospital, which took a whole 30 minutes, I had contractions 2 to 3 minutes apart. I still did not believe I am in labor.
It took only one look by the nurse at the triage to tell me – “Yes, you are having a baby”. By the time my husband came back from his meeting to the office desk, he got the message from the hospital nurse asking him to come to the hospital NOW.
During the pregnancy I had a strong intention to have delivery without medications. I even took a self-hypnosis for labor and delivery workshop. Within 30 minutes after coming to the hospital I was screaming for any kind of painkillers. You know it will hurt, but you have no idea just how painful the labor is. It hurt so much that I was ready for anything just to stop it. At the end I had two injections of drugs and an epidural. The epidural was a godsend. Whoever invented it deserves a monument. I cannot imagine how our mother had kids without it or how other women do it without an epidural. I strongly recommend it.
I came to the hospital at approximately 10 a.m. By 5 p.m. I was fully dilated and ready. The nurse kept asking me “Do you feel urge to push?” Well, no, I don’t have an urge. Then, it is still too earlier. Mind you all this time I spent laying down with IVs pumping antibiotics and painkillers into my body. Soon after 5 my baby decided to stretch inside of me. At the every next push I could feel two little feet pushing against my lung. Epidural only works below the waist. By 9 p.m. I called the nurse and told her and even though I do not have an urge to push I would really like to get it over with. She agreed and 25 minutes later little ***** was born.
Next 3 days were a blur. I am eternally grateful to my husband for being there for me. Without him I could not have gone through being at the hospital with my sanity intact. I HATE that place. Old and shabby furniture, dirty showers, uncaring staff, screaming babies and relatives – all of these are my memories of being there. On the second day I had a break down – I had no milk. My nipples were severely bruised, cracked and bleeding. All support I was getting was that I should continue breast-feeding and it will get better. Brest-feeding class was useless as they could not get my baby to wake up during the class. They would not let me to leave the hospital because they “were not sure I can take care of the baby”. My assurances that I have a mother, a husband and a baby nurse ready to help me did not help.
When I finally got home everything was fine within hours. Good food, hot shower and a clean bed did the trick. My milk came and a baby nurse showed how to feed my baby. I was finally home – and I was finally a MOTHER.
Giving birth in Canada
Last three months of my pregnancy were filled with events. For starters we decided to join a statistical majority. Apparently some 80 percent of couples move during pregnancy. In April we bought a house and moved. On the hindsight we should have looked for a bungalow, but we wanted to stay in downtown where bungalows are hard to come by. We ended up with a narrow tall townhouse with lots of stairs. Running up and down the stairs with huge belly was challenging.
Secondly, my pregnancy care was moved from my family physician to hospital obstetrician. My physician took really good care of me. On the contrary visiting the obstetrician was stressful and annoying. Waiting for an hour or longer only to be glanced at and told to comeback in two weeks. In addition, my baby kept turning and refused to settle head down. Three weeks before the due day my obstetrician has finally check me and assured that the baby has not dropped yet and will be definitely and certainly at least two weeks past due date. With such a certain assurance we did not rush with purchases of baby equipment. Still I did not like to leave such things for the last moment and few days after that visit to the hospital we did our last power shopping and assembled all baby’s furniture.
The next morning my husband left for work. Our cleaning lady came and I was doing exercises on my yoga ball when my water broke. With all I’ve read about labor I still believed my obstetrician. I was in a total state of denial. The only thing that moved me to go to the hospital was the need to be on antibiotics as soon as water breaks. Still I told my husband that there is nothing to worry about. It is just a fluke, but I am going to the hospital just in case. By the time I cought a taxi and got to the hospital, which took a whole 30 minutes, I had contractions 2 to 3 minutes apart. I still did not believe I am in labor.
It took only one look by the nurse at the triage to tell me – “Yes, you are having a baby”. By the time my husband came back from his meeting to the office desk, he got the message from the hospital nurse asking him to come to the hospital NOW.
During the pregnancy I had a strong intention to have delivery without medications. I even took a self-hypnosis for labor and delivery workshop. Within 30 minutes after coming to the hospital I was screaming for any kind of painkillers. You know it will hurt, but you have no idea just how painful the labor is. It hurt so much that I was ready for anything just to stop it. At the end I had two injections of drugs and an epidural. The epidural was a godsend. Whoever invented it deserves a monument. I cannot imagine how our mother had kids without it or how other women do it without an epidural. I strongly recommend it.
I came to the hospital at approximately 10 a.m. By 5 p.m. I was fully dilated and ready. The nurse kept asking me “Do you feel urge to push?” Well, no, I don’t have an urge. Then, it is still too earlier. Mind you all this time I spent laying down with IVs pumping antibiotics and painkillers into my body. Soon after 5 my baby decided to stretch inside of me. At the every next push I could feel two little feet pushing against my lung. Epidural only works below the waist. By 9 p.m. I called the nurse and told her and even though I do not have an urge to push I would really like to get it over with. She agreed and 25 minutes later little ***** was born.
Next 3 days were a blur. I am eternally grateful to my husband for being there for me. Without him I could not have gone through being at the hospital with my sanity intact. I HATE that place. Old and shabby furniture, dirty showers, uncaring staff, screaming babies and relatives – all of these are my memories of being there. On the second day I had a break down – I had no milk. My nipples were severely bruised, cracked and bleeding. All support I was getting was that I should continue breast-feeding and it will get better. Brest-feeding class was useless as they could not get my baby to wake up during the class. They would not let me to leave the hospital because they “were not sure I can take care of the baby”. My assurances that I have a mother, a husband and a baby nurse ready to help me did not help.
When I finally got home everything was fine within hours. Good food, hot shower and a clean bed did the trick. My milk came and a baby nurse showed how to feed my baby. I was finally home – and I was finally a MOTHER.
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home