Saturday, 4 February 2012

The Hospital Diaries: Born To Be Alive

Apologies it took me so long to post this - as you can imagine, it has been a tiring yet fulfilling few days! Below you'll find the whole deal, as I recall it happening.

Before the C-Section:

After yet another sleepless night, the process of getting ready for the C-Section has begun.

At about 6am, a nurse came in to give me a couple of pills that will help me get ready for the surgery. One of them was for heartburn relief. The other, I have no idea.

About half an hour later, a nurse came in to take care of shitty business. I had already mentioned beforehand in another blog that an Enema is given to reduce the chances of shitting yourself during labour.

I have also taken out every single piercing - all 17 of them - as they are not allowed in the operating theatre to limit cross-contamination. They like to limit a patient's exposure to unsterilised items when being cut open.

I got attached to the monitor again, and after a short while I got whisked off to the operating theatre.

The Birth:
I got prepared, got the catheter attached, then I was rolled into the theatre. My midwife cousin accompanied me. I opted to go in alone.

At first I was taken into a room where I got to talk to the anaesthetist who introduced himself and asked me a few questions. I also got a new Canula needle stuck in my hand - left hand this time - so as to allow the IV to be attached to it later. As I waited, a woman in the next room (I.e. The operating theatre/delivery room) was being sewn up after a C-section and also getting her tubes tied.

Profs and the She-Doc who had carried out the first examination on me stopped by to chit-chat and try to put me at ease before disappearing off to scrub up.

The time then had come. I was rolled into the Delivery Room. I was transferred from my bed to the operating table. I had to sit on the operating table so that local anaesthetic could be injected in my back, followed by a Spinal injection which would numb out my body from just beneath my chest to my toes. That was pretty scary but it was dealt with, thanks to my cousin explaining exactly what was about to happen, what I would be feeling etc. She held me as my back got wiped down and then injected.

I was then made to lie down flat in my back, with arms outstretched on arm rests. I looked like I was about to be crucified. I was trembling with fear - I won't lie about that. This was to be my first surgical procedure. An oxygen mask was put on my face, just until Creature would be pulled out of my womb.

My hospital robe was hitched up and hung in front of me, resembling a drape so that I couldn't see what was going on from my neck downwards. Another piece of green cloth was hung up in front of me, like a second drape, and also to help me keep warm. As the spinal injection worked its way into my system, a warmth and heaviness worked its way through me. I could still feel pressure being applied and stuff being moved about inside of me - no pain though.

I was shaking and crying silently throughout it all. I was praying to the Goddess silently to allow things to go smoothly. There was a blood pressure monitor strapped to my finger and stickers stuck on me to which a heart monitor was linked to ensure my vitals were fine.

When my intestines were being handled to be moved out of the way, I felt a bit nauseous. I was being reassured everything was fine. My cousin talked me through it. She then told me it was soon over and that I would feel a lot of pressure shortly being applied. I felt like my very core was being shaken, and then, at 11:50am, a huge weight was lifted off my spine - accompanied by a lustful cry.

Profs said "Its a girl!" And my cousin told me "Ros, tifla! Karrotta!" ("Ros, its a girl! Carrot!") - due to her being ginger.

She walked into view holding my beautiful Morgan in her arms for me to see. The moment I saw her crying, clenching her fist, I cried along with her - out of joy. All I could say is "Thank you" to everyone and anyone willing to listen.

Morgan was then taken out of the room for the paediatrician to weigh her and check her APGAR Score. As I was being sewn up, Profs went "Where is her mum? Go get her mum." And someone went to ask my mother to join us.

I was later told that my mum ran in, all panicky, and was shown Morgan and she pretty much threw the camera at my cousin asking her to take a picture, only to rush to my side.

She held my hand and thanked me over and over again for allowing her to be next to me and for making her a grandmother. She told me Morgan had ten fingers, ten toes, two eyes, one nose. That she was beautiful and healthy. We were crying together at that point.

I recall hearing Aerosmith's I Don't Want To Miss A Thing then, playing on the radio. I found that quite amusing. Now, I can't hear the song without remembering the whole birth experience.

I think that my mum was shown the placenta to ensure it had been taken out all in one piece before they started sewing me up again. I'm not sure. At this point, I was already slightly out of it.

It took some 15 to 20 minutes to sew me up. So in all, the C-Section from beginning to end took some 40 minutes or so.

The Aftermath:
I don't really remember being rolled out of the theatre, but I do know I was taken into the Recovery Room. This means I was put back in my bed. I vaguely recall them rolling me onto it, but not really. My cousin was with me in the Recovery Room.

This is where I got to hold my daughter for the first time. Morgan was put in my arms, as I lay on my left side, still in my hospital robe. I was covered by a blanket as well. We tried breastfeeding Morgan, however no milk came out of my left side. Another issue was the fact that my left nipple is the flatter one of the two - and is pretty inverted as well. We then tried to get Morgan to latch on the right side, with no luck. Not only was it an issue with the flat/inverted nipple, but the fact that the nipple itself is hard makes it more difficult to manipulate.

Morgan was more than willing to latch on, however she couldn't as it kept slipping out of her tiny rosebud of a mouth. We tried for a whole hour - by which time my blood pressure had dropped considerably, and I had to decide what I wanted to do. I agreed to opting for formula milk, and said I would retry breastfeeding later. This decision had to be taken there and then to prevent from Morgan's blood sugar levels from dropping due to having waited for too long before her first feed.

My cousin took Morgan away to get her fed, and I was attended to for about another 2 hours, where my blood pressure had dropped drastically. At one point, it was 45/30-something. I was shaking and pretty delirious - in fact I don't remember much from then onwards.

I recall telling my cousin I have low blood pressure anyway, and once my blood pressure had reached 90-something/i don't know how much, she decided I was ready to go to my room.

From here, I only have flashes of memories. I recall having the IV drip changed at least 15 times, in order to get my blood pressure back to normal. I recall also brief flashes of familiar faces.

I was told that Morgan cried all night that night, until she puked. Then she slept. She was looked after by Food Lady, who although I still find somewhat annoying, I will forever be thankful to her for looking after my child that night.

This, was my birthing experience.

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