The Doc stood up in a hurry clearly agitated by the interuption. He huffed over to the trash can while ripping off his gloves. The snap of the latex and the swish of the trash bag were the only sounds in the room.
“You need to think about how long you are going to let this continue.” He said firmly. He continued talking but I couldn’t continue listening through my frustration. Why wasn’t he apologizing? Why didn’t he explain things before he tried to stab my babies watery bubble? This is wrong. This is very very wrong.
I barely processed the situation as the doctor stormed out of the room. As the door was shutting, Jeremy angrily cursed. His opinion of the doctor was clear to everyone in the room.
“JEREMY!” I couldn’t believe he cursed! What if the doctor heard? What if he held it against us? I looked up at the nurses for an answer. Any answer would be nice. Any explanation. Any support. Faith was the first to speak…
“You are right. He shouldn’t have done that.” Thank goodness another person was on our side with this issue. “I’m going to get my instructor…” I couldn’t be more thankful for this sweet girl. My head was still swirling. Swirling with heat and anger and frustration. It was no more than two minutes till the midwife arrived. Apparently Faith had explained what happened on the way down the hall because as she entered the room, she immediately came over to me and grabbed my hand. My thoughts came spewing out like hot lava from a volcano of emotion…
“I would probably have let him do it if there was any explanation! I just think that if a person is going to do something that they need to talk about the procedure before doing it! Am I wrong? He didn’t tell me anything. Nobody told me anything. I thought I was doing good. Sure things are going slow but things go slow sometimes. Right? Right??!” I was trying to stay calm as I paced around the room breathing through the start of my next contraction still gripping her hand like a vice.
The midwife was able to handle the situation like an experienced cowgirl handles cattle. She grabbed the reins and gently reined me in. “You are doing fine. Let’s get through this contraction and then we can talk.” She massaged my palm and breathed with me as I hung on my Jeremy’s shoulders. “Ok. Are we through that one?” she was so considerate of the labor pains that it instantly made me calm.
“Yes.” I stated as my breathing slowed. “Yes, it’s over.”
“Alright. About the doctor, you are right. This is your labor and you get to choose how to go about it. If you would like your water broken, you should be able to discuss it first.” My head started dreaming of switching to this woman instantly. Either that or adopting her as my long lost aunt. She continued. “If you decide to break your bag of waters, sometimes it helps things progress a little quicker although it will be a little more difficult to handle the contractions.” She went on to explain how breaking the bag would eliminate the cushiony pillow between my babies head and my cervix.
“Well, I would probably have let him do that if he said something first! Do you think he’s gonna be mad at me?” I couldn’t believe that I had to worry about the doctor holding a grudge while I was in labor.
“No. I don’t think you need to worry about that.” This woman was a saint.
Our conversation was interupted by a knock on the door. Crap…it’s Dr. Hood. The door cracked open and in walked a short brunette woman with a confident look in her eyes. She came over and introduced herself as the head of the nurses.
“I wanted to apologize.” She said with a serious face. “Amy told me what happened and I am very sorry you had to experience that. Dr. Hood was in a crabby mood. He had a c-section scheduled and was in a rush to get to the OR. He’s a very good doctor though, I want you to know that.”
“No. I know.” I remembered back to when we first were introduced to him. “I remember that we were told he was an excellent doctor in case of a caesarean. I just think that he should talk to me first before attempting a procedure.” I felt like a broken record.
“Well. We all apologize on his behalf.” She was sweet for saying so. I knew that she was apologizing because he wouldn’t. He was a doctor afterall. He had to keep status quo. He had liabilities. He couldn’t stoop to my level.
“I think Jeremy and I still need to discuss if we are ready to have my water broken yet.”
“You do that. And if you are ready, then you can tell Amy and she will get Dr. Hood.” The head nurse said before heading back to her station.
“I think that is the right decision.” The midwife said encouragingly.
Jeremy and I turned toward each other and we both knew that it was time. The length of anticipation had us worn down. Jeremy looked exhausted. And my adreneline was only good for me. I knew that breaking my water would be jumping in with both feet. There would be no going back now.
Amy retrieved Dr. Hood and he entered the room coldly. There was no apology but I didn’t expect one. He did talk about how he thought that this decision was the best one and that it probably would help things progress along faster. I really didn’t pay much attention though as he spoke. I knew why he was there. Just in case of a c-section. I didn’t want to discuss labor with him. He barely saw me labor. What would he know afterall?
As the hook punctured my bag, the warmth of the water indicated only one thing: we are having a baby in the next day. I knew that as soon as the water gushed out, the hospital would only allow you 24 hours to deliver before retriving the baby via caesarean. This was it.
Or so I thought.
At 2 pm I was at 7/8. Dr. Hood broke my water at 3 pm. Then at 4, Amy checked me for progress. 8 to 9. Only 1 cm.
I had hoped for more dialation than that…but my mind was battling back and forth between hope and reality. The hope was that I would be true to the algarythm…but reality clearly stated that my baby should have been here by now. I should be pushing. I should be getting this baby out. Then hope would fight back…people have long labors. I can do anything for two days. The Jews were tortured for years by the Nazis, slaves were whipped, women are mutilated, if these people are strong enough to survive and thrive…I can labor for a mere 48 hours! I clung to the thought of strength. Hope. Strength. and breathing.
The next thing I knew there was a phone in my hand.
“Dr. Hood wants to talk to you.” Amy told me.
“Hello?” Why the heck is he calling me on the phone? Is this normal?
My brain didn’t really process what he was saying. Something Pitocin. Blah blah blah not dialating enough. Something about average labor charts. Blah blah blah epidural. Something about still at a nine. Blah blah blah probably a caesarean. What was he saying?! Doesn’t he know that I am in labor? Right now? Like the contractions turn my brain off? Why is he telling me this on the phone?
My contraction ended at around the same moment that he hung up the phone.
“What did he say?” Jeremy asked.
“I don’t know.” I started freaking out. My heart was racing and my skin started sweating. Drops of sweat were forming on every surface of my skin. “He said I wasn’t doing it. That it wasn’t working. He said that I would need a csection!”
“What?!” Jeremy look confused.
“I don’t know. Why would he talk to me on the phone? Why didn’t he come in here and explain it?” I was starting to breath crazy. My head was spinning from the news. I did everything in my power from hyperventilating as I told Jeremy everything I could recall from the phone conversation. When I finished, I felt like I was a kid who just walked into my playroom to find every toy was smashed to bits. I needed an explanation. I needed help. Faith was already out the door retrieving the midwife before I had a chance to say ask for it.
Fifteen minutes later the midwife had fully explained the situation. My labor was taking too long. I wasn’t progressing. She outlined my options more clearly than the doctor…or maybe I was just more willing to listen to her because I trusted her. I trusted her explicitly. I trusted her with my life. I trusted her with my babies life.
When we got done with our conversation, I blamed myself. I was too relaxed. That had to be the problem. The next hour I was determined to do whatever it took to kickstart this labor. Changing positions. Changing activities. Leaking was a part of walking now. Especially since I was walking while trying to do a combination of a jumpy-waddle hoping that gravity would be on my side. I didn’t think it was working until I had the urge to go to the bathroom.
“Faith, can I go to the bathroom?” I asked innocently.
“Number one or number two?”
“I feel like I gotta poo.”
A smile lit up the midwife’s face…”That could mean that the baby is ready.” She said it calmly. “Let’s check you.”
Amy got me ready on the table and both Jeremy and I were hopeful. “Hmm.” She said. “I think you are about a 6-7.”
“A SIX OR SEVEN?!?” At this point there was no controlling my volume. “WHAT DO YOU MEAN? A SIX OR SEVEN?!?”
My heart was racing.
“YOU MEAN I WENT BACKWARDS?! WHO GOES BACKWARDS?