I have told my child birth hospital story a few times over the years. Only recently, did I realize there are far more conversations being had on this topic, by far more mothers with similar experiences, than I originally thought. Candace Owens and Meghan Trainor brought that to light, when they told us about their hospital experiences more recently.
I feel like the overall conditions of the hospital experience, including the staff, the level of care, the rules and regulations of each medical facility, etc. are all aspects of child birth that can make the overall experience positive or negative. It is certainly a topic of conversation that seems to be getting some attention. It is also a conversation we all should, as mothers, partake in.
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So, exactly how did your experience go?…And I do mean all of it… from hospital staff, to how long you were in labor (what medication you may have had to ease the “dark side” of it), to how you and your child were taken care of within the hours that followed birth, etc.?
The Pregnancy Stage…
My entire pregnancy, for the most part, was a breeze.
As a first time mom, I had heard all of the stories…what to eat, what to drink, how far into your term you should be, before you go on maternity leave, how much you should weigh at 7 months pregnant (got a lot of scolding on that one!), whether or not breast feeding is the best option…you name it… it was a topic of conversation amongst the other women in my life. Half of them had never even had children themselves!
Everyone had an opinion! Even the magazines seemed to be scolding me or trying to give me advice on something I was or was NOT doing. Again, my pregnancy was in fact, a breeze. Why? I listened to all of the advice, considered, and made choices based upon the information. But mostly, I relied on my own instincts as well as what my own body was telling me.
The miserable part wasn’t even the birth itself. I was 2 weeks late with my son and the doctor had scheduled my induction for a Monday, day after Mother’s Day. My mom was distraught, because she wouldn’t be able to make it for delivery on Monday. (As a side note…you have to realize, I was one of 2 women in the family to have waited until our 30’s to have a baby…At some point, they had all given up on us ever baring children. This was something, indeed, that my mom had to witness).
Anyway, something told me my baby was not going to make it until Monday. Sure enough, my water broke at 12pm the day before the scheduled induction…Sunday, Mother’s Day on point!
Enter In The Hospital…
The first thing that happened when I got to the hospital, was a piss test.
Yes, a piss test. Why? During my first interview with one of my doctors ( I got my initial exam/interview by a doctor within the practice…not the one who ultimately became my formal doctor from there on.), the doctor had asked whether or not I had ever done illegal drugs. Well, because I was a new mother and was super anxious and cautious about everything, I told the absolute truth. Yes, I had, in the past, used marijuana. I experimented just like millions of other people, but that was the absolute highest risk thing I have ever done in my life and it was not a problem for me in any way.
So What?
Nope…should’ve kept my damn mouth shut completely and lied through my teeth.
Because I had ever touched the stuff at all in my life, that doctor informed me he now was obligated to make a note on my medical record. Thus, I would automatically be tested upon arrival to the hospital (no worries there). If any trace of drugs were to be found, social services would be called in and I would not be allowed to leave the hospital with my newborn, without a visitation from Social Services first. (Again, no worries there!)
The test, of course, came out negative for anything possible.
Labor…
Moving along, the first 5 hours of labor, I felt practically no pain…maybe equivalent to rough menstrual cramps. At 5pm, when the nurse held the pain chart up, I had finally hit the #7 between the scale of 1-10 on the chart. I did take the nurse up on her offer of Motrin. (I was highly against the epidural. Even though many family members had utilized that option, I was completely creeped out by having a needle injected into my spine).
Turns out, I didn’t need any more than that motrin the nurse administered through the IV.
I will never forget that lovely nurse. She was the one that informed me I needed to take that drug test, in the first place. Even she had said to me at the time, “I’m so sorry. I know why this is happening and I don’t agree. So what if you ever experimented? I think this thing is maybe a bit overboard, but it’s mandatory. Sorry, I am required to do this.”
And we both giggled, but okay…let’s get on with it.
Fast Forward…by 8:58pm, a healthy 8lb 15oz baby boy came into the world (so much for all of that lecturing by others that I wasn’t gaining enough weight). The only hitch was keeping me awake through the last 30-40 minutes of labor. The motrin did it’s fair job of relieving pain, but I did keep passing out for a minute or two…I think from sheer exhaustion. I heard my doctor mention possible c-section and my tail bolted straight up to get that job finished!
The Nightmare Begins…
The Nightmare began within the hours following birth. Of course, I immediately passed out for a time after birth. When I came to, again, my husband told me the nurses had taken our boy to get cleaned up, bathed, etc. My husband brought to my attention that I had not been cleaned up yet and wanted to know if I was “awake” enough to handle a bit of help with that (I was still attached to an IV after all and a nurse was required). I didn’t hesitate to send him on his way to find assistance.
He went to the nurse’s station in the hallway, requested assistance, and the nurse told him someone would be with us in a few minutes. 30-40 more minutes go by…nothing. I finally just got up and went to the shower with my husband’s help and improvised with the one hand not attached to a machine. This of course, led to my husband going back to the nurse’s station afterwards, to request a clean gown for me, along with clean sheets.
So Professional…
The first thing the responding nurse did, was b$tch us out for getting me into the shower without assistance. We kindly explained that assistance had been requested some time before our final decision to go it on our own. Before she rushed out after providing the materials we had requested, we asked where our son was. At this point, it’s been a couple hours since birth. (I thought with breastfeeding, you should try to get your baby to attach sooner than later).
The nurse said she would check on the baby and be right back. Minutes later, she comes into the room (behaving nervously), to explain she can not bring our child to us. He has a heart murmur.
A what?? Ok…I kinda know what a heart murmur is. (I spent a fortune on my pup over that once, just to find out it really wasn’t a big deal at the end of the day). Ok…we still want to see our son though, touch him, hear him breathe, know he’s real…lol. Right?
On Lock Down…
That “person” proceeded to tell us, she had tried to reach my doctor to no avail and until she speaks to the “on call” doctor, she can not take our child away from the nursery, nor can we go into the nursery to see him. He is on lock down.
At this point, my husband looks at me with an expression I’m not sure I’d ever seen before, walks into the bathroom, and locks himself in.
Well…Shit. Ok…that’s fine. I proceed to explain to the nurse, she will IMMEDIATELY bring my baby to me or visa versa.
She leaves and the on call doctor calls my room within a few minutes. He explains the murmur is nothing to fear, he has reviewed our son’s record…it’s quite a normal thing, and he has given permission to allow my baby to be brought to me. He will be running a couple of tests in the morning, but baby and mama can be together for the night.
Great! Awesome!
It Gets Even Better…
Of course, nurses in a hospital, enter your room every 2 hours to check vitals, administer meds, blood work, something or another. At one point, a different nurse came in for vitals. My baby started sneezing while she was there. I mentioned it out loud and wondered why that might be?
She replied with, “Well, have you ever done heroin? That is a common side effect for babies, if the mother has done drugs while pregnant.”
Uhhh…what??? It couldn’t be your strong perfume..no, not at all. Couldn’t be. And it couldn’t possibly be that the child has just come out of a water filled space into an air space. Did you guys clean out his lungs properly? Oh, I’m sure, “Miss has so much perfume on she could choke a horse!”, already thought of that.
I didn’t say any of that of course, because I’m a polite human being.
Let’s just say….the next 48 hours I was trapped in that place, were quite brutal. I couldn’t get rest, I was already portrayed in the system as a drug addict, the staff was mediocre (and worse at times), and the food sucked ass…unless, of course, my husband brought outside food to me when he was done work for the day.
At The End Of The Day…
The beautiful bits…well, my boy and I hit it off immediately with the feeding, changing, etc. I had been talking to him for close to 9 months, after all. So had his dad. Having that time with my baby, the two us getting to know one another, was the best part of that hospital stay. When my husband visited for the night, it was even better with the 3 of us.
Thankfully, no one ended up in jail during that time. I’m not sure we were singled out for any particular reason, really….there are stories out there similar to my own or perhaps, even more stressful.
I chose to bring this topic up after realizing I wasn’t exactly alone with regards to a nightmarish hospital stay when giving birth (something that is suppose to be so Beautiful in so many ways). Other mamas out there, know that you are NOT crazy. Other people ARE crazy. Hang in there, and Speak up if you and your baby don’t receive good care during your hospital stay.
There are a great many nurses, doctors, and other medical professionals that genuinely do go out of their way to make sure you are good. Fortunately, the random sour apple doesn’t represent the whole.
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