Delivering My Child: My Story and Experience

I have written all about my experience delivering my child, and hope this will bring comfort to someone in someway even if it's just by knowing that you're not alone. I hope you'll enjoy this read, whether you've had a rough experience or not. Some may have even been dealt worse, but whatever your experience was, I hope this blesses you in some way.

Delivery
By: Evonne Curry

Arms stretched out and strapped down... My legs were strapped down too. …they did it
crucifixion style.

Let’s go to the beginning.

 Excited. Nervous. Anxious. It’s around 5am and I’m on my way to the hospital. I’m almost 42
weeks pregnant. I was so ready to have my baby girl, my first child, and see her face; meet her
for the first time. I had no idea what to expect. However, there were definitely a few things I
did expect. I expected to have a nice, bright, and clean hospital room to deliver my child in. I
expected or at least hoped to deliver her naturally. I expected to have my husband on one side
and my mom on the other, telling me to breathe and push and for at least one of them to be
holding my hand as I did. If nothing else, I definitely expected my husband to cut the umbilical
cord and for me (or him) to be the first people to see her, hold her, hug her, kiss her, and feed
her. It was such a beautiful and exciting experience to expect.

Now I’m at the hospital checking in. On the hospital’s records, I write out a few of my
expectations such as who can come visit and that I want my husband to cut the umbilical cord. I
turn the documentation in. I get escorted to my room. The room is dim, almost dungeon-like.
The floor is dirty and the air dusty. I had an appointment set to be there, so, I thought the room
would have been prepared. Perhaps they were short on help. I was going to stay positive and
make the best of what I had, so I asked them to send a mop so that I could mop the floor. I
wanted to tidy up the room and have some clean air, and fortunately someone did it for me. I
then changed into my hospital gown and got set to have my labor induced.

Skipping forward, my labor was induced per the doctor’s request. Eventually, my water breaks
and the pain comes. I wanted to deliver my baby completely natural. I thought I could stand
the pain. I couldn’t! I gave in and decided to get an epidural. Sitting with my back curved, the
doctor (or nurse) attempts to place the needle in. This person must have been an IMPOSTER! In
excruciating pain, I could feel the needle scraping against my spine as she tried to figure out
where to insert the needle. I’m trying so hard to hold it together because my contractions were
coming and pretty closely. But the pain from the needle scrapping my spine was even worse.
She finally decided to get someone else to insert the needle for my epidural. He goes straight to
where the needle should be inserted without any pain. “Why didn’t they get him to do it in the
first place?”, I say to myself in anger and frustration.

At some point during my labor, I felt like I had to make a bowel movement. Yes, that’s right. I
HAD TO DOO DOO(poop)! So I walked to the restroom but nothing came out. No one told me that the
feeling was possibly a part of the labor. AND… NO ONE THOUGHT TO CHECK MY EPIDURAL.
Why check my epidural??? Because I SHOULDN’T HAVE BEEN ABLE TO WALK TO THE
RESTROOM ON MY OWN. (or at least that’s what I was told later) What they did do was decide
to insert a urine catheter into me which was extremely painful because, DING, of course, my
epidural wasn’t working. The first nurse was gentle, informative and helpful as possible though.
More time passed and another nurse came in to change out my catheter. She was not as gentle
as the previous nurse and unfortunately inflicted much more pain which felt purposely done, as
she fell to apply pressure to relieve the pain and SLOWLY removed my catheter so that the pain
was extended longer than needed. Anyways, the contractions kept coming and the pain
continued to get worse. Eventually, they decided to check my epidural and realized that it
wasn’t working due to the incompetence of the doctor who inserted the needle. They adjusted
the needle and got it right this time. Oh, YES! They got it right! Now, I’m just waiting to dilate.
The doctor comes in to check how much I’m dilated. She brought some students in with her,
but I told her that I preferred for her to not have so many people in the room, so they left. I
don’t remember what the first dilation check was but I remember the heart rate monitor for my
baby wasn’t working at it’s best on my stomach, so they decided to insert some kind of vaginal
heart monitor. At that point, I’ve got all kinds of needles, tubes, monitors, fingers and who
knows what going into me. I get another check… 7cm dilated. Great! Progression. The doctor
comes in a few hours later. I’m sore from everything that’s going on down there and she gives
me a painful, but brief check. I scream in agonizing pain. “9cm dilated”, she says. Yes! It won’t
be long we all (my husband and parents) mention. Tick, tock, tick… The doctor returns for
another dilation check. This time the news is very disappointing. She said that I was still at 7cm
dilated and that she was wrong about me being 9cm dilated. WHAT!!!??? She also claimed that
my baby’s heart rate had dropped and suggested an emergency C-Section. Noooooo!!! Nothing
was turning out the way I expected. But what else could I do? I agreed to do the C-Section. At
least my husband would be there with me and would be able to cut the umbilical cord… or so I
thought.

Arms stretched out and strapped down for the C-Section. My legs were strapped down too.
Was this normal? I was too exhausted to ask. I’d been in labor for 34hrs with no food or water.
(Couldn’t eat or drink in case of a C-Section). They had strapped me down onto a surgery table
(or surgery bed I guess) and they did it crucifixion style. I didn’t understand why they had to do
that because I was way too exhausted to move. ‘They’ meaning the 2 nurses that brought me to
the surgery room and the doctor. They had placed a curtain across my neck. I was told that the
covering was there so that I wouldn’t have to see them do the surgery. I was also told that my
husband would be standing next to me, right above my head, to give support and that he would
be able to cut the umbilical cord when our baby came out. So I waited. Exhausted, nervous, and
feeling a bit violated, I waited. “Why did I feel violated?”, you ask. I felt violated because I was
laying there strapped down, cold, and naked with strangers on the other side of the curtain. Strangers who were able to see me and my naked body, but I couldn't see or know them. When I say strangers, I’m not referring to the doctor and nurses. No, I heard extra voices on the other side of the curtain. Some sounded like the students who first came but were asked to leave and there was at least one other voice that I didn’t recognize. Why do these strangers get to see me completely naked and I don’t even get to see their faces? Why was my hospital gown pulled over my breasts if the surgery was supposed to be down near my uterus? How much of this is normal and WHERE IS MY HUSBAND? I had questions that I didn’t have the time or energy to ask. Everything was happening so fast and I felt so exposed and helpless. Then, the anesthesiologist was introduced to me. She came standing beside my (where my husband should’ve been) and said she was there in case I needed to be put to sleep. WHERE WAS MY HUSBAND? There was no indication that she would actually have to put me to sleep, nor that I
wouldn't have any say so in the matter. So what happened was…

I was strapped down, cold, exploited, alone, and afraid. After the doctor had me strapped
down, I felt something cold being applied to my body. I suppose it was something that was
meant to numb me from any pain. The doctor began to pinch or prick me from the C-Section
area up to my chest area. I didn’t feel anything until she got up to my chest area which I told
her felt like a small pinch. I heard her tell whoever was on the other side of the curtain with her,
that she was going to put me to sleep because she didn’t want me to feel any pain. BUT WAIT!
My husband hadn’t made it in there yet. Why isn’t he in here, and don’t I get to say whether I
want to be put to sleep or not? Can’t you just apply more numbing cream or whatever that cold
stuff was? Before I could ask any of these questions, the anesthesiologist said, “Ok. We’re going
to go ahead and put you to sleep.” Immediately following, the sleeping gas mask came right at
me. I tried to hold my breath so that I wouldn’t inhale it. I wasn’t ready to be put to sleep. I had
questions about it first and wanted to know where my husband was. I resisted. I thought I was
moving my head. I wasn’t ready. Can’t she see that I’m trying to resist? I’m, I’m….

I had woken up from the surgery. Alone. Just like before I was put to sleep. My thoughts...
“Where am I? An even bigger dungeon looking room than my hospital room with no one near
to help me. Is that a desk area/nurse station? Is this a hallway? Where’s my baby?!” I was numb
and I couldn’t move. It was so cold. I was shivering and didn’t know why. I spotted someone.
A nurse came toward me. “Where’s my baby?” Those were the first words that came out of my mouth. The nurse said that I would see my baby and everyone soon and that my room was being
prepared. I asked for a blanket, which she gave me. It was so thin. It barely warmed me. I asked for another one. She had the nerve to say that I shouldn’t need another one and walked off. I didn’t know why I was so cold. As she walked off, I asked for more cover again. She went on to the desk area and
looked at me with a smirk. Did I imagine that? No! I don’t think so. Nah. Her expression told me
that she wasn’t going to help me. I couldn’t call for help. My voice was too weak. I was so weak. Plus, I still couldn’t move. I wondered, “How long would I be laying here shivering and freezing before someone came close enough to hear me ask for help?” I prayed to God to bless me, be with me, and send some help. Time passed, but not much. I heard some familiar voices. YES!!! I was elated. “The cavalry was coming to save me!” I thought. It was my husband and parents and I knew that I could ask them to get me some cover/blanket and rescue me from freezing. The nurse hurried over and gave me the blanket cover I’d asked for before my family reached me. It was very shady behavior but I didn’t bother to make a fuss. I was just glad to get the blanket and glad to finally be reunited with my
family. All I needed next was to see my baby.

I was finally taken to my recovery room. I was glad to see that this room was brighter and
cleaner than the one I left. Since my family wasn’t able to come with me, I was alone in the
room for quite a while just waiting for my baby and someone to join me. Finally, my husband
made it to the room. He bragged about how gorgeous and amazing our baby girl was and told
me about his experience. (That he couldn’t stand and could barely hold her, etc.) I asked him
how was it when he cut the umbilical cord? He told me that not only did he not get to cut the
cord, but they never even allowed him to join me in the room. How could they take away these
precious experiences from us!!!! I was so disappointed and angry! I decided to just move on
and think positive and just look forward to meeting my daughter for the first time. My parents
eventually came in and was excitedly telling me how beautiful my baby girl was. Whew!! (sighs
and deep breaths) The anticipation was enormous! I waited for what felt like hours. WHERE
WAS SHE?! WHY WAS EVERYONE ELSE GETTING A CHANCE TO SEE HER BEFORE I DID?! What
was taking so long?! I was anxious, upset, excited and joyful all at the same time. I had been
through a terrible experience and wanted nothing more than to see my child but I had to
remain positive. Finally, she came.

At last, the nurse brought my beautiful baby girl into my room. I was astonished, in awe, and all
the way above and beyond the clouds in amazement when I saw my daughter’s gorgeous
shining face. It was night time and there was no light shining in, but she had a glow from
heaven shining upon her face. It was radiating from within her. How could I have created and
delivered something so amazing and angelic? How could I have had something so beautiful
growing inside and come from my belly? I didn’t know how she would look but I didn’t come
close to expecting such beauty and perfection. She made everything I ever went through
WORTH IT. I didn’t want to give any more energy or another thought to the rough experience I
had. I couldn't digest the fact that I was just a lab project them. That my requests and desires were ignored and not just ignored but completely rejected and denied. No, not at the time. I just wanted to focus on all the love and joy my baby girl had brought to me at that time. I
probably should’ve sent in a complaint but I decided to focus on healing and recovering, on
enjoying my new little blessing, taking care of her, and on staying positive for my new God-
given gift.

(The ride home was excruciating. With every road bump and pot hole, it felt like my brain
was hitting against my skull. I wondered if the doctor or anyone had dropped me on my head
before I had woken up for surgery.)