by Cheryl Petran CEO, Owner The
Pump Station & Nurtury™
I
was due on April 15th, Tax day - but my little tax deduction decided
to show up early. She was not about to make it easy on me – it was a taxing
labor to say the least. I was grateful for what seemed like a pretty easy
pregnancy.
I
was due for a visit to my OB at 8 am Thursday April 12th. My
contractions started around 4 that morning. I had a feeling I would not
sleeping at home that night. I arrived at my Dr.’s and was 2 cm’s dilated. She
was confident she’d be seeing me at the hospital by the end of they day. She
decided to monitor my daughter’s heart beat, all was good – then, I rolled over
so they could adjust something (don’t remember what). That’s when things
started to get scary – my daughter’s heart rate started to crash. They repositioned
me on my back and her heart rate got back to normal. My Dr. said I should go
home, get my bags and meet her at the hospital in about an hour. Lucky for me
my Dr.’s office, hospital and home were all within 6 blocks of each other.
Finally, living in LA - I didn’t have to worry about hitting traffic.
I
was checked into the hospital by 10am and contractions were getting worse but I
was not getting any more dilated. I had
never written up a birth plan as I was told by many – it would only disappoint
me as things never seem to go the way you want in labor. I decided to “manage
expectations” – don’t have any and I won’t be disappointed. I think it was
around noon when she decided to give me Pitocin to help things move along a
little faster. Again, they rolled me over and my daughter’s heart rate crashed
again. They re-adjusted me again- her
heart rate was fine.
This
was about the same time I told my husband not to worry about me not eating – I
told him to go ahead and have some lunch. One of my more memorable labor moments –
laughing while he ate the Izzy’s Reuben as I sat there rocking and fighting off
the urge to take an epidural. I know myself, I probably was not going to make
it without it but I was determined to go as long as I could. I’m a big ole baby
when it comes to pain.
A
few hours later my parents had shown up and I still had not dilated any more.
The pain was getting worse but I was fighting it. I knew I wasn’t going to make
it much longer. It was then that my new Hungarian Dr. Friend (HDF) showed up
with a heavy accent and an explanation of what I might expect from taking the
epidural. I remember his words before he left the room “when you’re ready –
I’ll be right outside – ready to come in and give you the shot”. I was relieved
and decided to try and hold on longer. It was now about 3pm I think when I just
couldn’t take the pain any more I asked the nurse to send him in – remembering
his words – “when you’re ready I’ll be right outside…..” Liar, Liar Pants on
Fire!
It
was 30 minutes before he re-entered the room. I should have sent out my cry for
help about 45 minutes earlier. He
prepped me for the epidural and asked my family to leave the room. My husband
was going to stay – but I told him he should go with my parents and get some
coffee. They left the room, the Anesthesiologist returned and prepped me for my
shot. I was told by many – don’t look at the size of the needle and you’ll be
fine. I should have listened.
Not
sure what happened next but – I got the epidural, her heart rate crashed again
and I was quickly inverted head and upper body positioned back, lower body up
and I seem to remember some type of face mask.
Doors were closed and my husband came rushing in, not knowing what
exactly had happened. My Dr arrived within a few minutes (she too lived a few
blocks away) and said that’s it – we need to do a C-section. We were told that
she was concerned about her working to get thru the birth canal – she could
barely handle me rolling over so let’s not take any chances.
I
was then prepped for surgery – more drugs. By the time I was brought in I was
starting to feel sicker and sicker. My HDF was behind me over my head
monitoring my meds. He was telling me to relax all would be ok. I was feeling
sicker and humiliated at the thought that all of my privates were currently
exposed to the world. I’m generally very
modest, still haven’t subscribed to the “Selfie” craze. I began to vomit – my HDF started giving me
ice chips. I kept thinking about being naked to the world (my world) at that
time. I was still vomiting. Not one of my prettier moments.
The
next thing I knew my husband was showing me a photo of my little girl. In the
phone she just looked so big – I remember thinking, “wow, that big baby came
out of me?” I was still vomiting and now
shaking non-stop. I was in no condition to hold my baby. Daniela Mary Petran was
born at 7:12 that evening. She was 19”
long and weighed 6 lbs and 5 oz. She was not big – so basically the camera
begins to add weight at birth? That’s just not fair.
The
next thing I remember is waking up in the recovery room around 11pm. I finally
got to hold my baby but I was shaking incessantly. I gave her back to my
husband (or was it the nurse??) I was terrified I’d drop her. I’m pretty sure
they put her to breast but can’t remember as everything was so foggy.
It
was a long and scary day. Taxing. For the longest time I thought of how I
missed that precious opportunity to hold my baby skin-to-skin at birth. I had an
insanely difficult experience breastfeeding – developed a horrible case of
mastitis. I felt I failed at so many
things early on as a new mom. I wondered if I had damaged my little girl in
those early moments of her life.
7
years later, I’m pretty sure that didn’t happen. On Sunday morning I landed in
Boston with my little “tenacious D” (that’s what we call her). She was there
holding her baby – tightly swaddled and staring into her eyes. She’s a good
Mommy, she practices skin-to-skin, swaddling, soothing techniques (thank you
Dr. Karp) and breastfeeding her doll. Yes, she breastfeeds her doll. She is a
caring and nurturing mommy. I did something right.
I’m
hopeful that some day when she has babies of her own she has a more pleasant
birth experience. But if she doesn’t well that’s ok too…. Payback…..
0 comments:
Post a Comment