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October 14, 2002
I need to give a recount of the post-birth happenings to be true to the story (you must have the whole story). So here goes: in the hours following Hana’s birth, I was quite lightheaded and could hardly sit up in bed, let alone stand. I was absolutely dying to take a shower, but it couldn’t happen given that I couldn’t even sit up in bed without seeing stars. It was discovered that I had a clot “in there” that was causing this lightheadedness (the placenta delivered easily and with no problems about 15 minutes after Hana). The midwives informed me that they would have to do an internal “sweep” to remove it and any other remainders that were hanging out in there. I was breathless at the thought. I had just delivered a baby AND a placenta after all, wasn’t that enough?!? After much discussion (me: “isn’t there ANY other way to get it out?!”), the midwife decided to start with a quick light sweep to see how I handled it. Now, remember that I had just given birth naturally so I wouldn’t call myself a wimp or a sissy, but the thought of this sweep was making the hair on my arms stand up. To make a long story (mainly about my whining and whimpering that there must be some other way to solve this problem) shorter, the midwife tried this mini-sweep and then they almost had to peel me off the ceiling. She tried one more time with a similar result, and so we all had a heart-to-heart. In the end I decided, reluctantly (“are you SURE you guys can’t just give me SOMETHING? Just a little Vicodin, perhaps?”), that I would like to be transferred to the hospital to remove this clot, because by God, I wanted some DRUGS if they had to send the troops back in (Note: midwives in a birth center cannot dispense any drugs. Duh. I knew they couldn’t but thought that I might convince them to bend the rules just a bit. Wrong).
So, the EMT (aid car & team) was called. I believe we decided against car transfer (ourselves) because I couldn’t stand up. Or sit up. I believe that is the reason we had to invite a team of 5 or 6 strapping men into the room where I lay with a rat’s nest of a hairdo and no pants (I was under blankets, of course. Until they had to move me). The procedure of transferring me from bed to stretcher was enough mortification to last me a good lifetime or two. The EMT guys were very nice men (hunks too, yes, but this, unlike normal life, was not a situation where I WANTED to have hunky men handling me) and did the best they could to ease my embarrassment and protect my dignity. However, I must say that my heart broke in two over the way they talked to my midwives. I felt that they were condescending and disrespectful and it made me want to spit on their shoes. As I was being tossed around and hoisted into the air, I tried to shout glowing remarks about my midwives and the birth down at them, but it was to no avail. I don’t want this diary to be negative, so I won’t go into more detail, but I was appalled and saddened by their treatment of my midwives, who had just helped me deliver a perfect, healthy baby in the most idyllic setting I could imagine.
I waved goodbye to Mike and our parents from my stretcher, kissed my baby (Mike & my parents promised to take good care of her on the car ride to the hospital) and was off. I was in such a daze at that point.When I look back on it now, it seems absolutely ludicrous that I had to leave my baby (she couldn’t ride along with me) AND that my husband had to drive this tiny, hours-old baby in the car to meet me at the hospital. He was a nervous wreck, as you probably guessed.
In the ambulance (and there were no sirens, much to my dismay. If I was going to do this, I would have at least like to have gone in style), the EMT-guy took all of my vitals and then began to chat with me and the midwife who joined me for the ride. As long as I was lying down, I was feeling fine and dandy, and so I was happy to chat away about the birth. He (EMT guy) loosened up a bit and the three of us had a nice ride…
At the hospital, they did a quick check-in and took me into a room, with another awkward transfer onto a bed. The nurse drifted in, said some hellos (she was very kind and warm), gave me an IV, and quickly pumped me with some short-term pain meds. In about 5 minutes I was on cloud nine, just in time to greet Mike, my parents and Hana as they arrived. Shortly after, the doc dropped by, did the internal sweep, and was on her way. I didn’t feel a thing and it was over in about 15 minutes. Because it was about 11pm, I had to stay the night in the hospital. They set our new little family up in our own little room, complete with a postage-stamp bathroom and two single beds. OK, so it wasn’t my post-birth dream of my family lounging in our bed under the down comforter, but it was pretty nice given where we were. I finally got to take a shower (HEAVEN ON EARTH. I really like to be clean.) and change into my own pjs. We settled in, fawned over our beautiful baby, and fell fast asleep (on our separate twin beds, me with Hana in my arms). The next morning I woke to the busy shuffling in the halls. Mike ran down to the cafeteria and got some breakfast, we ate, and checked out.
And that was that. We were home by 8:00am on the day following Hana’s birth. We all climbed right into bed, and the grandmas headed over to take care of us. They stuck around for the first week and they were god-sent. It was so wonderful to have my mom & Mike’s mom there to coddle me, cuddle Hana, make dinner, do the dishes, keep up the laundry, and remind me to lay down and get some rest. We had about 700 visitors (ok, so I exaggerate) in that first week or two. It was tiresome at times, but I also felt surrounded by so much love and it made me so thankful to be in a place where I am surrounded my this incredible network of family and friends.
Hana slept. And slept. And slept. She was the model baby. Hardly cried. Went down without a fuss. She even nursed well. Until my milk came in… That’s next time!
Jessica
www.mikeandjessica.com
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