My Birth Story: Trauma In The ER
Bringing life into this world is an AMAZING experience. One would think because this wasn’t my first trip to the rodeo everything would go according to plan…. Well, one could only hope. The big day arrives, my husband and I journey to the hospital, all while the contractions are becoming more and more intense. What seems like an hour-long drive, we finally arrived at the hospital. Before they could get me onto the stretcher, my water broke. The nurse looks at me and says “when you leave this hospital you will be going home with a baby.” I smiled as I settled into my labor and delivery room as I prepared for the arrival of my baby boy. Although I had a cesarean with my previous delivery, I wanted to attempt a VBAC a vaginal birth after a cesarean.
As I labored for hours in pain, the doctor administered Pitocin, a medication to speed up labor. As the minutes turned into hours, my doctor came in to perform an exam to see how much I had dilated. Imagine my dismay when the doctor told me I had only dilated 1.5 centimeters in 7 hours. It was at that moment that all of the things I learned in my birthing class completely went out the window. I became frustrated and agitated as I was just ready to have my baby. The pain of the contractions was beyond words. There are not enough words in the English language to describe the enormous pain you experience when in labor. A few more hours had passed, and the doctor noted that my son was experiencing some distress. They decided to monitor it a little closer, and if my son continued to show distress and if I hadn’t dilated they would prep me for surgery.
Three hours and a shift change later, my doctor comes back into my room to perform another exam and to check the status of my son. Upon completion, my doctor looked at me, and it was at that moment I knew. My heart sank as the doctor informed me that I had not dilated since the last exam and that my son was continuing to show distress and that they would have to prep me for surgery. At that moment, I began to cry, because I felt that my body had failed me.
I’m prepped for surgery, epidural administered, and now I am wheeled into surgery. Before I go any further did I mention that this was a teaching hospital? In case your not familiar with what a teaching hospital is, it is a hospital that is affiliated with a medical school, in which medical students receive practical training. So being that this was a teaching hospital, I was informed by my doctor that a student would be sitting in on my delivery and asked if I would be ok with that. At that moment, I didn’t care who was in the delivery room I just wanted to have my baby…besides how bad could it be? Right?
At first, everything seemed to be going well, and the doctor proceeds to apply the incision remove my son, doing all of this while “teaching” and explaining to the student what was happening and why. Meanwhile, as the doctor is “teaching” time is passing, and the epidural is starting to wear off. OMG! is right. As I lay there, I remember being able to feel myself wiggling my toes and thinking to myself “Oh my God I think my medication is wearing off.” The doctor delivers my son and is preparing to stitch me up. As my doctor began to stitch my uterus closed it was at that moment, I knew something was terribly wrong. I remembered as the doctor inserted the needle into my skin and pulling, I began to cry out “it hurts, it hurts, I feel it, I feel it.” As I lay helpless on the operating table unable to move and feeling every needle stick and pull, it was out of a horror movie. I could hear the nurses and doctors scrambling and administering more medication into my IV, but unfortunately, the drug did not take effect quickly enough.
Surgery is complete; I’m wheeled into the recovery room. As I lay there, I remember, being in SO much pain and so drugged up that I was unable to bond with my baby for the first few hours. As many mothers know, it is those initial hours of bonding after delivery that are so important, and I felt cheated out of that experience. Not only did all of the drugs administered to me during surgery affect me, but it also affected my son, and when I was well enough to attempt to breastfeed him, he was so lethargic that he would continuously fall asleep on my breast. Needless to say, that experience left me emotionally scarred.
How could this have all been avoided? It is crucial to understand that an epidural only last 1–2 hours, so it is imperative that the doctors move swiftly without any distractions, i.e. “students.” My doctor at the time spent too much time teaching and losing valuable time, not keeping in mind the possibility of the epidural wearing off before the surgery was complete. Based on my delivery experience before and after this one, I now know that having a student present during my delivery was a bad idea, one I would never bear to repeat.
While this experience as painful and traumatic as it was, taught me just how strong and resilient the female body is and the beauty of giving birth no matter the circumstances surrounding the birth. Even with this experience, I did not allow it to deter me from having another child, as two years later I gave birth to a baby girl. Let’s just say this experience was a much better one.
