My Birthing Experience
I honestly believe that there is no such thing as an easy birth. There are some that are easiER than others, but none that are easy. My story is no different. If you are pregnant with your first child or are planning to have a child at some point, you may want to skip this post ;)
I had a drama-free pregnancy until 3 days before my due date when I slipped while going up the stairs and fell down them instead. I managed to turn onto my side so I did not fall directly onto my belly but I was still worried about what it could mean for the baby so I called the labour and delivery ward at my local hospital and was advised to get myself checked out. I spent the entire day being monitored and, after a couple of tests, everyone was satisfied that the baby was fine so I was sent home to rest and told to come back two days later for follow-up. My left leg was black and blue from my hip to my knee but the baby showed absolutely no signs of distress. This was the very first time that I would take a hit for my daughter and I was happy to do so if it meant that she was fine. Welcome to motherhood! The morning that I was supposed to go back to the hospital (the day before my due date), I woke up with contractions.
*NB While I believe that my fall contributed to my going into labour, I DO NOT recommend it!
I went into labour at 6am, had my water broken around noon which contained quite a bit of meconium (baby poop) and received my epidural around 2pm (I never said I was a hero). At 7 pm, after several hours of very little progress, I was only at 5 cm (I had been 2-3 cm for at least a week) and it was decided that I would need a c-section. The anesthesiologist was in another surgery so I had to wait...and wait...and wait. Around midnight they came to get me but by this point I had spiked a fever and was shivering uncontrollably. I was pumped with at least three different antibiotics and wheeled into surgery. My daughter was born at 12:25 am on her due date. How's that for punctual?!
Mere hours after my c-section I developed a severe rash that lasted for 7 looooong weeks and led to many sleepless, itchy nights. I was itchy 24/7 and was convinced I would lose my mind because of it. When I recall being sleep deprived I still attribute it to the rash and not the newborn. At some point, my rash cleared up and my incision healed and I was able to begin enjoying my new baby and life as someone's Mommy.
Fast forward one year and I am still being tested for allergies to the medications I was given in my attempt to figure out the problem before my husband and I decide to have another child (who will be born via c-section because I am NOT going through all of that again!) The specialist I saw firmly believes that my rash was a reaction to the trauma of labour, which I just found out included an infection in either my uterus or endometrium, hence the pre-surgery fever.
Just typing this brings a smile to my face because I vowed I would only have the one child. However, the old adage is true; time heals all wounds and when I look at the beautiful child that my husband and I created, I know that I would happily do it all again. Some of you will be shaking your heads at that statement while others will nod in agreement. All moms of more than one child must be a little crazy, how else would you explain their willingness to sacrifice their minds and bodies over and over again?
I had a drama-free pregnancy until 3 days before my due date when I slipped while going up the stairs and fell down them instead. I managed to turn onto my side so I did not fall directly onto my belly but I was still worried about what it could mean for the baby so I called the labour and delivery ward at my local hospital and was advised to get myself checked out. I spent the entire day being monitored and, after a couple of tests, everyone was satisfied that the baby was fine so I was sent home to rest and told to come back two days later for follow-up. My left leg was black and blue from my hip to my knee but the baby showed absolutely no signs of distress. This was the very first time that I would take a hit for my daughter and I was happy to do so if it meant that she was fine. Welcome to motherhood! The morning that I was supposed to go back to the hospital (the day before my due date), I woke up with contractions.
*NB While I believe that my fall contributed to my going into labour, I DO NOT recommend it!
I went into labour at 6am, had my water broken around noon which contained quite a bit of meconium (baby poop) and received my epidural around 2pm (I never said I was a hero). At 7 pm, after several hours of very little progress, I was only at 5 cm (I had been 2-3 cm for at least a week) and it was decided that I would need a c-section. The anesthesiologist was in another surgery so I had to wait...and wait...and wait. Around midnight they came to get me but by this point I had spiked a fever and was shivering uncontrollably. I was pumped with at least three different antibiotics and wheeled into surgery. My daughter was born at 12:25 am on her due date. How's that for punctual?!
Mere hours after my c-section I developed a severe rash that lasted for 7 looooong weeks and led to many sleepless, itchy nights. I was itchy 24/7 and was convinced I would lose my mind because of it. When I recall being sleep deprived I still attribute it to the rash and not the newborn. At some point, my rash cleared up and my incision healed and I was able to begin enjoying my new baby and life as someone's Mommy.
Fast forward one year and I am still being tested for allergies to the medications I was given in my attempt to figure out the problem before my husband and I decide to have another child (who will be born via c-section because I am NOT going through all of that again!) The specialist I saw firmly believes that my rash was a reaction to the trauma of labour, which I just found out included an infection in either my uterus or endometrium, hence the pre-surgery fever.
Just typing this brings a smile to my face because I vowed I would only have the one child. However, the old adage is true; time heals all wounds and when I look at the beautiful child that my husband and I created, I know that I would happily do it all again. Some of you will be shaking your heads at that statement while others will nod in agreement. All moms of more than one child must be a little crazy, how else would you explain their willingness to sacrifice their minds and bodies over and over again?
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