When we arrived at the hospital at around 7:30AM, we went straight to the emergency room where I was given a wheelchair to sit on. Really, these things do no help, in any way, to alleviate the pain during contractions. Nevertheless, the partner wheeled me to the elevator so we could go to the third level of the building where the maternity section was located.
My hospital experience was not the most pleasant of all. Since the nurses saw that I was already in a lot of pain (I have no idea how they knew I was fully dilated by then – no one ever did an internal exam on me, not even my OB during prenatal visits). I went straight into a “dressing room” where one of the nurses/midwives told me to change my clothes into a hospital gown (by change it means to take off all pieces of clothing in your body and get yourself into that thin piece of hospital clothing).
I did my best to hurry up but it was difficult since my contractions had gotten closer and even more pronounced. This time, I finally felt how it is to have contractions. I told the nurse/midwife that I could no longer go on because my stomach was too painful to even stand up straight. She scolded me anyway telling me that it was my fault since I had to wait that long before going to the hospital. Like, seriously?
Finally, I was able to change into the right clothes. The nurse/midwife directed me to the delivery room. Yep, I never had the chance to hang out at the labor room actually. I sure was ready to go.
The delivery room was nothing like I imagined it to be. Probably because I never really had much exposure to these kinds of hospital rooms. Often, those I see are operating rooms where everything looked so sterile (and scary) – that’s when you watch too much Grey’s Anatomy or Emily Owens, MD.
There was this sort of “operating area” in the middle of the room, much like the chair patients sit in at the dentist, only shorter. There were contraptions at each side at the bottom end which I figured out was for the legs. Yikes. I felt like I was going to be executed any minute in that torture chamber.
I took my place right away and spread my legs (sheesh, that detailed). One nurse complained (I’m sure she was the same person from earlier) about me taking too long. Apparently, there were too many things to do, blah blah blah, to prep me up. They had an IV inserted – I had no idea what it was, they could have drugged me then for all I know.
Finally, one of the staff did an internal exam on me and confirmed that I was about to deliver the baby. Only one big problem: my doctor wasn’t there yet and it isn’t even 8AM yet. Since I had a private OB, I had to wait out for her to help me deliver the baby. All the more reason I had to be scolded by the staff. Seriously?
I swear those minutes waiting for the doctor seemed like forever. If it had been hard to fight the urge to push on the way to the hospital, it got even harder now what with my legs spread apart.
How do you possibly try to put a plug on that, erm, hole? A staff assisted me though and helped me by pushing back the baby’s head. Haha. It would have been really weird to picture it out in a regular situation. She did complain though that I had to try my best because the urge to get out was strong and her hand/finger could only fight back as much. Throughout the ordeal, I bit my arm to fight back the pain and the urge. Aside from giving myself a bruise into the future, I also found that shouting (please, I could no longer stop the baby from coming out – roughly translated and then more scolding from them) helped my mind stir away from the pain. Once in a while, I would stretch my legs and reposition myself to an angle where I could try to put more pressure in that area down there to stop the baby from coming out.
I remember a few other moments now that would have made my blood curl like when someone would ask you things such as your name and all (that amid painful contractions in very short intervals). As if I had not given out my mother’s book already. And then there was one who asked about the shaving thing and sort-of gave me an option – but told me anyway, after replying to her, that there was really only one way to do it since they had to “clear it out” for the delivery. Sheesh. What’s the point of asking?
Finally, the doctor had arrived, makeup and all. She told me to push when she said so – I could only be the submissive person that I am, even with my detailed birth plan. Haha. (I wanted to be the one to have the say on when to push.)
The first time, I tried to push but only for a short while. The baby didn’t come out because there was more shouting from me. A word of advice to would-be moms, shouting could only tire you. If you try to “keep it to yourself”, you’d actually have more power when you push.
When one of the nurses came beside me, probably the one who kept scolding me, I tried to grab her arm so I could hold on to it when I pushed. She hurriedly freed her arm from my grip and told me that there was a place in the “delivery bed” to hold on to during pushing.
The second time, I did as instructed and stopped shouting. I may have made about two pushes – one short and then one long – I didn’t stop for air at the second push until I knew the baby’s head was out. One more short push and the entire baby from inside me has come out.
Finally. All I could remember was relief from all the pain. I swear it felt like something “popped out” from down there when the baby’s head came out. Haha.
The placenta came out next (the last of the pains) and then I was truly done and totally exhausted, too. I would have wanted to have the umbilical cord cut out until the placenta “ran out of life” but nothing from my birth plan was ever fulfilled. Not the daddy in the delivery room nor the music while delivering nor the no episiotomy nor the no anesthesia request (I think I had it during stitching).
The doctor pretty much made huge money out me, spending only about 20 to 30 minutes for the entire delivery. She stitched me up (the feeling is a little uncomfortable but not exactly too painful). A male student nurse finished up the cleaning of my vajayjay. Hahaha. And then that was it.
I gave birth at 8:02AM to a 5LB Asha Perenelle.
(The daddy was surprised to see this little girl held in front of her only 30 minutes after I went inside the room to change clothes. How fast was that?)