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Gerrit's Birth Story By Justine |
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Birth Stories -
Hospital Birth Stories
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Friday, 14 November 2008 14:57 |
The following "birth story" is written as a letter to my son, Gerrit Paul, that I hope to deliver to him after the birth of his first child.
February 9, 1997
Dear Gerrit:
I know it will be years before you can read this, but I write it now while the memory of your birth is still fresh in my mind.
The labor and delivery of you, my third child, was about as close to perfect as you can get. I went to the hospital on January 26th with contractions close together, and they kept me overnight. Your father and I fell asleep, and when we awoke the pains had stopped. I was glad, because it was a little early for you to be born.
Nine days later, after a night of your kicking more vigorously than usual, I drove myself back to the hospital at 7am to have the nurses check if everything was OK. I was sure I had leaked a little amniotic fluid, but after spending the entire day there, nothing happened. The doctor said it looked like nothing had really happened an told me to go home. "You'll probably get home and have to come right back," he laughed, trying to cheer me up.
Dr. Zeiderman was not my regular doctor. Dr. Colliflower was out of town, so I was glad that I had been given the OK to go home and wait until he got back. I also did not want to have my labor induced because of leaking fluid, a common practice, especially with the beta strep condition I have. (40% of all women carry this virus and it can be passed from mother to baby during birth making the child very sick. You were spared this through your resilience and use of antibiotics during labor.)
So, I left the hospital and went to Luckys grocery to buy oranges (always have to have that fresh-squeezed juice) and get cash from the ATM. I went through Taco Bell drive through to bring home dinner for Dad, Beau and Audra, and ate a burrito supreme on the way home.
I have been fighting a nasty chest cold (along with 90% of the population in the Gold Country), so the first thing I did when I got home was take an Actifed decongestant. My sister assured me there was an ingredient in there that prevents labor from happening, so I was glad for that.
I had been home for about 20 minutes, and wanted only to take a hot bath and lie down. I was content to continue waiting for "the sign" you were on your way. As uncomfortable as I was, I was sort of enjoying the delicious anticipation of your arrival. Most women these days schedule their births, using drugs or surgery to have their babies when they and their doctors are ready. I really wanted to be able to let you come into this world on your own schedule.
Well, Dr. Zeiderman may have been trying to cheer me up, but the joke was on him! My water broke, and I was on my way to the hospital 20 minutes after arriving home. Dad rushed Audra to her friend Logan's house, while I rushed about brushing my teeth and getting dressed.
By the time we were in the van driving down Highway 88, the contractions were only about five minutes apart. They hurt more than the small contractions I had been having for weeks prior (what a surprise). At one point, we were caught behind a semi hauling hay from Nevada that was going about 35 MPH. Dad passed the truck as quick as he could, and we resumed our 70 MPH trek down to the hospital.
When we arrived, Cindy the nurse was waiting for us. They really look forward to babies being born at Sutter Amador, since it is not a daily occurrence. I insisted on taking a quick shower even though I was having contractions. I was gripping the little hand rail in the shower, railing with contractions by the time I got out.
I put on the unattractive but comfortable hospital gown, and climbed into the bed in my room (wouldn't want to soil my own nice gown). They strapped the requisite fetal monitor around my huge belly and said your heartbeat looked great. You could also see that I was having strong regular contractions. That was a great sign. It meant I would probably not need any help getting labor going (i.e. That awful drug, Pitocin).
Dad turned on one of my favorite relaxing CD's, Bill Evans plays John McLaughlin (piano music), and I readied myself for that magical unpredictable journey known as childbirth.
My contractions were close together and furious, right from the start. Fortunately I found a position that made each contraction work it's magic � I was on my hands and knees rocking back and forth (also known as "the pelvic tilt"). This must have worked, because before you I knew it, I was ready to push. At one point, the doctor asked if I wanted any pain medication, and I told him no. I felt it was wrong to take drugs that might affect you as well, and I knew that if I "toughed it out", the contractions would work more quickly.
I sat up and scooted down to the end of the bed. Suddenly, the contractions were letting up a bit, and I was able to catch my breath. Dr. Zeiderman asked how I was doing, and said I looked good. I smiled, and said I felt good. I was ready.
The first couple pushes hurt a lot, but when the doctor said he could see the head I relaxed. As I did the final pushing, I felt like I was sort of "floating" above my body. It wasn't even painful. The feeling of your body leaving mine was one of relief and elation. And when I saw you I felt overjoyed. After a couple of seconds you let out a cry, and I knew everything was OK. Dad cut the cord, and they handed you to me right away. As we lay there, moist and warm, you began to nurse and we cuddled for quite a while.
Eventually, the nurses wanted to clean you up and weigh you. We were all so surprised to hear that you weighed 9 lbs. 6 oz. Dr. Colliflower had guessed you would be closer to 7 or 8 lbs. I must admit I felt proud to have brought such a big healthy baby into the world.
You were large enough and came quickly enough, that I did have a small tear. But, the doctor stitched me up and it was quickly forgotten (and you're forgiven). Even the memory of labor pains is fading fast.
All in all, I would have to say that this was as close to perfect as a birth can get. And, for all the work, I now had a perfect little child.
I love you, Gerrit.
Love, Mom
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Hospital Births 
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