Krystal's Birth

Technically I would say it started on the Tuesday before she was born. I went into my appointment, and my doctor asked me, "How do you feel about having her Wednesday?" I said sure, then I freaked out. It was Tuesday. Which meant that the next day was Wednesday. I asked her if she meant the next day, or the Wednesday after. "Tomorrow," she said. I still said yes, and wasn't fully aware of what I'd just agreed to.

That night I couldn't sleep. I was supposed to go in at 6am the next morning, but I couldn't sleep if my life depended on in. Finally, 6am rolls around, and we head to the hospital. The get me checked in and set up in this tiny little room where they start hooking up IV's. Problem with this is, no one can get the stupid things in my hands. I get stuck no less than 5 times in each hand before someone else finally steps in and tries, twice. Eventually they get it set up. Some time later they take me to the room I'll be actually delivering in.

They get me set up with a little sheet and start hooking up the pitocin and whatever else. They put a blood pressure cuff on that goes off every once in awhile. I'm not sure if you ever had 5 needle marks in your hand and then had your blood pressure taken, but it hurts SO bad. It felt like there was just so much pressure building up in my hand, and my hand was very close to exploding in pain.

The contractions started off slow and barely noticeable, but it wasn't long before I started getting the aches in my hips and my back. I remember it was only about 11 o' clock before I asked for some pain medication. The lack of sleep from the day before mixed with the medicine let me fall asleep almost immediately. I was probably asleep for 30 minutes before the contractions woke me up. I know I wasn't asleep for long, because I was still completely out of it when I woke up. They checked me, I was at 4 centimeters, which was basically nothing since I came in at 2. They decided to break my water then, which I only remember as being gross. My mom says I wouldn't stop talking about it (I was still under the influence of the pain medication).

More time passes, the contractions are getting worse and worse and I'm not getting any breaks between them. They're constant and intense, and I'm pretty sure my back is about to split in half and my hips are about to shatter. I can't stop crying and I feel sick. I don't think I was even 6 centimeters dilated yet. Although the thought of getting an epidural never even crossed my mind, I was asking for one now. Epidurals are terrifying. They put needles in your spine. I never, ever wanted one, but I couldn't deal with the pain. It took awhile for the anesthesiologist to get in the room, I think he was doing a c-section or something. He gets in and explains the procedure and risks and all that and then they make everyone leave the room. I begged for my mom or someone to stay because I was so scared but they made everyone leave. I don't get why I couldn't have someone stand in the corner of the room but whatever. They made me lean over this thing and I just freaked out. I didn't want to do it yet. I was scared. I asked for them to wait a minute but the nurse held me down. I screamed and cried and screamed some more.

Finally they get the epidural in and the nurse tells me I made a big deal out of nothing. I lay back down in bed and my family comes back in. The pain is gone for now and I can kind of relax. Then they decide it's time to monitor the baby better. How do you do that? You screw a little metal springy thing into the top of their heads. I recall not wanting it, but was told that I needed it.

I'm still not progressing very well, so they decide to flip me to my stomach over the side of the bed. Not something that works very well when you don't have any control of your legs anymore. Then the springy monitor falls off, and they freak out and flip me over again (where they find out the monitor fell off) and keep trying to get it on again. They finally give up because Krystal's hair was too thick and they couldn't get it to stay on.

I'm about at an 8 now, and the epidural feels like it's starting to wear off. My hips feel like they're about to shatter and my back hurts soooo bad. I tell the nurse I'm in a lot of pain and she tells me there's nothing she can do because I'm fine. Then she tells me it's time for me to practice pushing. I didn't want to. I'd never heard of someone practicing how to push. Then she took my sheet off of me and told me I had to. I try, and I can't. It hurts too bad. There's no point in it (at least not that I know of) and this nurse is just being a bitch. I keep trying and I'm so upset she took my sheet and I'm just exposed to the world while pushing for no reason I just start crying. I'm crying so hard I can't even breathe and I'm starting to feel sick. All I wanted was my stupid sheet back. Finally the nurse gives up and gives me my sheet back and leaves me alone.

About an hour later, I think it was actually time to push. The pain was so bad in my hips I could barely take it. I remember they had taken the sheet off of me again, and hiked my gown all the way up. I kept trying to put my gown down a little bit more, but they wouldn't let me. Then, half of my freaking family walks in, because the nurse didn't feel it necessary to shut the door. There was even a curtain they could've wrapped around the door, but she didn't even close that. So, surprise! It was absolutely humiliating. My mom mentioned it to the nurse the door was still open and all she said was "Oops." and shut the door.

Anyways, I pushed for 30 minutes as hard as I possibly could and Krystal was born. They put her right on my stomach, and I scooped her up and just thought she was amazing. I barely remember it though, because I literally pushed until I thought I was going to pass out. You're only supposed to do it for 10 seconds or whatever, I didn't care. I wanted it over. I wanted to be covered up and get these people away from me.

After I held her for a few minutes or however long they took her to clean her up and do everything. I got to hold her again afterwards, and then I'm guessing they took her again for something as I got moved to the recovery room.

I don't really remember going from the delivery room to the recovery room, but I do remember actually getting there. There were two nurses there to help me around, since I had no use of my legs. They wheeled me into my room and said I had to go to the bathroom before they put me in my bed. I didn't have to go. I didn't have anything to drink in at least 15 hours or so and had a catheter because of the epidural. They made me go anyway, and while struggling to get me into the bathroom my gown fell off. I already felt gross and dirty and ashamed from how I was treated during the delivery, all I wanted was my gown back. She wouldn't give it to me. I told her I couldn't go and she started squirting me with a squirt bottle. I finally was able to go, and she finally gives me my gown back.

The nurses are really rough with me getting me into the bed, and once I'm finally in I close my eyes for a few seconds because I'm so exhausted. This is when the nurse quietly mentions to the other that she never tells anyone her real name so she can't get reported. Then they bring Krystal into the room. The nurse asks me if she's been fed yet. I said I didn't know, because I wasn't sure if they gave her a bottle or something yet. I wasn't sure how everything worked. She asked it *I* fed her, and I said no. I had just gotten her like 2 seconds ago. She asks if I'm bottlefeeding or breastfeeding, and I tell her I wanted to breastfeed but I really wasn't sure what to do. After a rude comment on how it's so simple and my baby was starving, she takes to gown off my shoulder and forcefully shoves my boob into Krystal's mouth. After an eye roll and another rude comment about my lack of whatever you want to call it (mothering instinct? Intelligence? Who knows). She leaves. Then it's just me and Krystal. Visitors come in and out next day but for the most part it's just Krystal and myself.

And that's it. Apparently shortly after I came home I locked myself in my room for a few months and refused to talk to anyone other than a few select friends online. I don't remember much from her birth until I got help for PPD.

But yeah, it was possibly the most horrifying, terrible, most degrading experience of my entire life. And I wish I never had to do it again, but I do. And soon.

P.S. All that said, I'd do it all 1,000,000x over to have my baby girl here. She's my world. Despite the way I was treated, holding her for the first time still managed to be one of the happiest moments of my life. <3