I had... a rather awful birth.
They didn't want to give me a C section, so they induced me with this drug that ripens the cervix over 12 hours. It made my vagina and cervix flood with pain and that lead to the first night in the hospital. The resident wanted to check me and I refused until the pain subsided enough. Got woken up every 20 - 30 minutes to assess me.
Was checked at 8:00 am. Nothing. No dilation, but I finally had bloody show. Then the foley catheter was suggested and I needed morphine to accept it. Foley catheter got me to 4 cm. They then broke my waters, which wasn't so bad. There was meconium, but not a worrying amount.
But instead of being allowed to walk around and get labour moving after that, they kept me in bed for an hour, let me walk for 15 minutes and then proclaimed it didn't work and I had to be hooked up to pitocin. I let them at first, but then got very emotional and had them take it out. I bought a little time here and there but in the end was no match for them. I was exhausted.
The labour was excruciating and contractions came minute by minute as my doula tried to massage and rock me through them. My husband stood by feeling helpless and just as exhausted. I succumbed to an epidural as I realized I didn't have a chance in hell of maintaining whatever energy I had left.
They told me they would up the pitocin only to the point where labour would start. They instead cranked it all night. In the morning I was aching, and having been woken every 20 minutes to check my blood pressure, I was very sleep deprived.
One of the fetal monitors got loose and the new nurse on the morning shift freaked out. She had everyone start rolling me from side to side and the OB came in and wanted to put a monitor on baby's head.
At that point I said enough, "Just get him OUT." And I had the C section. Could have avoided the nightmare of a failed induction had I been listened to, but that didn't happen. I was rushed out the room, no one was telling my husband anything and within an hour my son was born.
Scored a 9/10 on the apgar, and latched within 40 minutes of being born, 9 pounds 13. He doesn't look at all like a newborn, but rather a 2 or 3 week old baby. His name is John.
We were taken to a private room and stayed there until this afternoon. I have found the recovery thus far very painful, and there is no end of sleep deprivation in a hospital recovery room either. Taking my blood pressure, blood, temperature, someone coming every 30 minutes with something.
I broke down today. I will never have another child. I'm having a hard time bonding to my son. I have a heat rash (Maybe also induced by stress) covering my entire body, which has caused it to bloat to ungodly proportions and itch like mad. I have a blister on my left nipple. My incision is painful and doesn't allow me to do very much of anything. I dread having to pee.
There are a few shining lights in this: my husband is supportive, engaged and communicative with me. I've not changed a diaper yet. We have some family coming to stay a bit and help. I had a bowel movement. And though bonding to my son is hard due to how the past four days have gone and how much TLC my own body requires right now, I'm managing to feel hopeful about the future by doing my best not to think about it too much. I'm taking this day by day, hour by hour.