I haven’t really talked about my childbirth here. But if you know me, I’ve been whining about it every time the subject comes up. Yes, it’s still that vivid and fresh for me. So if you’re willing, journey with me back to goosebumps and intense labor pains.
At my 7th month, I was already huffing and puffing and waddling my way through everything. All physical tasks, even the simplest ones like getting up and walking just seemed too heavy for me to be doing. All I wanted to do was lay in the couch where I can turn to my sides whenever I need to with an airconditioner positioned right in front of me. Most of all, I already wanted to give birth and get it done and over with.
“But we want the baby at her optimum health,” the doctor reminded me. What is another 2 months? She’d add. That’s actually the only thing that kept me going during that heavy and long two months of bloated-ness. Here we go, full-term it is!
On Thursday morning two months later, I noticed a drop of blood with my pee. That was 8:30 am. My husband panicked. I was ecstatic. Finally, this is almost over! My OB-GYN ever so calmly told me not to panic and that it could just be because I a couple of days before, I underwent an IE stripping my membranes; and just to feel secured, I can have myself evaluated in the hospital. If ever I give birth today, she won’t be around because she’s in Manila attending a conference. Right. What a perfect timing! Good thing we have a backup OB-GYN.
We decided to wait it through, and stayed home the whole morning. I got bored taking down notes and timing my contractions the whole time that I suggested we both report for work in the afternoon. I felt like I might be wrong, that the baby will not be getting out anytime soon after all. The contractions were still few and far between.
So I went to work, went back home and cooked dinner. At around 10:00 pm, when I was plopping myself in the couch with my feet raised infront of the TV, I felt the pain started from the front and traveled to the back. Okay, so I’ve read the books, and I remembered the books saying labor is not true labor if the pain stays in front, it has to include the back.
Very calmly, I told my husband that I might be having true labor now, and that I thought it was time we check with the hospital and have myself evaluated. No, I don’t have the intention of having myself admitted; I only want to know what is happening in there. I even told my husband to bring the luggage back to the car. He insisted we bring it with us just in case.
At 11:00 pm I was ushered to the IE room. The resident told me I was still at 1 cm. “OK, so can I go home now?” “Let’s check the status of the baby first, Ma’am,” she implored.
After like hours lying in the labor room monitoring my baby’s heartbeat and shushing to themselves, the interns called my doctor and reported the test results; which I was not allowed to be privy to at the moment.
“You are getting admitted,” the intern told me while hurriedly preparing IVs.
“What? Why?! I thought I was only at 1 cm still.” I got up and looked at her.
“Your baby’s heartbeat is not what we hoped for it to be. It’s fluctuating. You have to be induced.”
I just blinked and lied back down. I patted my stomach and attempted a talk with the little one. “Hey, you there. Don’t make this hard for Mommy, OK? You hang in there and be strong. I’m gonna be seeing you in a while.”
The painful contractions started at around 2:00 am. Must be what they used to induce my labor with. It was far between for like an hour, and I was just keeping to myself oblivious to the whimpers and labor cries all around me. I was busy keeping my mind somewhere else and focusing on my breathing just like I practiced.
At 3:00 am, I started daydreaming how wonderful it could be if I went through this pain-free. I wanted and epidural! The pain is increasing and the contractions are getting closer from each other. I started to shout for my doctor’s name.
“She’s on her way,” the interns would assure me.
“At least give me something to help with the pain.” I cried.
An intern came up to me with a shot of Demerol.
“Oh, thank you! Will that lessen the pain?”
“No, Ma’am. It will only allow you to sleep in between contractions so you can rest. We can’t give you an epi without your doctor.”
I was only being sedated. In between contractions. I can still feel the real beauty of true labor pains. Nice.
At 5:00 am, I was ready to crawl all the way up to the ceiling. I felt like it was the only thing I could do to ease the pain. I asked God if He still wanted me to do this and if this is not a cruel joke of His. I went on and demanded a dialog. If He’s going to claim my life today, He better see to it that my daughter is in the best hands. But please, if possible, just don’t kill me yet. I wanna see my daughter grow up and see if she’s gonna look like me. All I got was a smile and a reassuring wink. Guess He already knew I could get through it epi-free.
My OB-GYN arrived at 6:30 am. At last! I cried for epi. Please give me my friend epi! Please!
“Yes, we will. We’re still waiting for the anesthesiologist,” she reassured me while holding her morning cup of coffee. I should have checked if she meant it. Turned out she was only killing time up until I was fully dilated. She had no intention of giving me the epi after all.
I was at 6-7 cm. By this time, I have lost count how many times I was IEd. From time to time, a bored intern would come over and massage my hips which was a welcome treat.
Then the contractions came one after the other. I’d hit the wall and pull myself up with the bed railing. The pain was just nothing I’ve ever experienced before. There was just nothing like it. Nothing I could ever compare it with. Not even the worst dysmenorrhea I’ve ever had. The pain ebbed and surged with the contractions. If the pain goes on continuously without pause, I most certainly have died hours ago.
By the time I was 8-9 cm, the doctor ordered a rupture. They’re going to break whatever it is they need breaking. A wheelchair was placed near my bed, ready to transport me to the Delivery Room.
My dear doctor has forgotten my epi. I thought sadly. Being heavily sedated and tired I retreated and accepted that I am having this epi-free thinking the worst is yet to come.
When full dilatation was achieved (because of their own machinations, mainly), I was wheeled to the DR. It hurt to sit up much more bring myself to sit and transfer to the wheelchair. I was half-carried mostly. All the time I was drenched in cold sweat and groggy from the pain and natural anesthetics. The next thing I knew, I was spread-eagled lying on my back on the delivery table.
The instructions were given, and a handful of interns surround me ready for whatever emergencies there may be. I silently hoped they had the operating table prepped and ready as well. An intern climbed and stayed at the top of the table. If I was in a different situation, I’d be looking questioningly at her and demanded for her to climb down. At this point, I was in total surrender to the people around me, so I let her be. They’ve done this countless of times already; they must know what they’re doing. I don’t.
When it was time for me to push, the girl on the table pushed my stomach down and poof came the baby’s head. So, the girl on the table has some purpose after all. The next push, she joined with me, and together, we got Xofia Enia out. At 8:58 Friday morning. With cord coiling around the neck and arm! I am now a true believer of miracles.
The first time I heard my baby cry was nothing short of pure bliss. So this is how it feels. I got up and reached for my baby. The nurses told me not to hold her, everything’s sterile, and my hands weren’t. I was only allowed to kiss her in the forehead. I kissed my baby, blood, goo and all. It was the most beautiful thing ever.
They had to wash and bring my baby to the nursery. I needed time to rest and recover. The realization hit me. I no longer felt the pain. I thought getting her out would be the most painful, but hey, it was the best part of the whole experience. I felt such relief washed over me. I didn’t even feel anything when I expelled the afterbirth. I felt light and sleepy. Finally, I no longer look like a stressed blowfish without the spikes.
