On July 4th 2009, my husband and I conceived a child. after having a recent miscarriage, we didn't feel comfortable telling anyone except my parents. Finally, at twelve weeks pregnant, I felt safe telling people, and started planning for my baby and my birth.
My first instinct was to have a home birth. My husband felt that was risky for a first baby. We ended up going to a hospital where a female doctor (Dr.F) and her group of midwives worked.
I cried on the way to our fist appointment. After meeting them, and getting to know them, I grew to like and even trust them. they seemed like they wanted the same things in a birth that my husband and I did. Time went by and we learned that Dr. F would not be delivering weeks surrounding my due date and a male doctor (Dr. K) would be filling in for her.
This was NOT OK.
I cried for hours and my husband and I began to lean toward a home birth. But they all promised that I could use the midwife instead.
On Thursday, April 1st, 2010, I went into labor. It was not at all a hard labor. The only reason I even knew it was labor was because the contractions were so timeable. As they grew closer and closer together, my husband, my mama, and I decided to call the hospital. They said I should come get checked out. I was only two centimeters dilated. It was also then that we were told that my midwife was out of town for the weekend. If I gave birth that weekend, I would have Dr. K.
I wanted to go home. After they had me walk for over an hour,
then told me that walking really doesn't do anything to help labor along anyway, and hooked me up to various machines, I was finally allowed to leave.
That night, my husband suggested that we just have a home birth. But I thought that (at 41 1/2 weeks pregnant) it was too late to get a midwife and get everything set up for one. I told my baby and my body to wait a few more days.
I quietly cried myself to sleep. Though I was still having contractions, I managed to make it through all of Friday and Saturday (including an Easter dinner at my aunt's house). Sunday morning I woke up. I ate breakfast. I hung out with my husband (we didn't go to church because I was so exhausted from being in labor for over 72 hours). By late afternoon, my back began to ache. The contractions grew stronger. I tried to take a nap but I was too uncomfortable. I tried to eat but I couldn't handle much. The contractions grew closer.
I was upset about having Dr. K. I grew weary. At around 8:00pm, we called the hospital and they told us to come in.
After stopping for gas, we made our way to the hospital. Twenty five minutes never took so long. I still couldn't believe that I was going to a strange male doctor. I kept expecting the midwife to come through for me. When we finally got inside and up to labor and delivery, I was dilated to seven and no midwife in sight. I nearly cried with relief and because I didn't want a strange male doctor. It was real. The rest of the night was a blur. I remember that they didn't let me wear my own clothes, even though the midwives said that I could. I remember answering some questions that seemed ridiculous. I remember trying so hard to breath that I almost couldn't breath. I remember them putting the I.V. in my hand and them twisting the needle so that it constantly pinched. I remember wanting very badly to kneel and not being allowed. I remember Dr. K stabbing my baby in the head trying to break my water. I remember them saying I was at 10 and to push when I wasn't ready. I remember Nurse J showing my husband the baby's hair, him asking if the cord was up by her head, and Nurse A saying "No, that is the edge of the cervix." I remember Dr. K ordering for the vacuum before I had even had a chance to push her out on my own. I remember saying "I don't want to do this." and not meaning the birth, meaning the birth this way. I remember Dr. K sticking a needle into my perineum to numb it and that I had to look away because the needle was so big. I remember him shoving the vacuum into me, before the numbing had taken affect, ripping me in the process. I remember screaming at him to "Stop! You're hurting me!" and he didn't even flinch. I remember yelling that "I don't want it this way!" and he didn't even care. I remember my mama telling me, "We've lost control. Just get her out." I remember them shoving an oxygen mask in my face because her heart rate was dropping from me not being in the right position for a posterior baby. I remember finally feeling the unstoppable urge to push and it being the biggest relief of my life. I remember feeling myself rip open as she came yanked out of me. I remember it being 12:24 am on Monday, April 5th, 2010. I remember that her cord was gashed and gushing blood from being up by her head. I remember that Dr. K had to be told by my mama and Nurse J to clamp it off. I remember that my husband getting to cut the cord. I remember asking for permission to hold my daughter. I remember that she smelled wonderful and looked beautiful. I remember the large purple bruise on her head from the vacuum. I remember that she weighed seven pounds one once and was 20 1/2 inches long. I remember my husband saying that next time we would have a home birth!
I remember yelling in pain from each of the first stitches. I remember agreeing to let them give me stadol to ease the pain. Then.... handing off my daughter to my husband
because I was so drugged I was afraid I would drop her.... moaning from each of the
50 or 60 or more stitches.... seeing double.... blacking out....waking up to my mama asking me if I wanted to hold my baby....
being so out of it that I didn't want her to see me like that.... Dr. K making jokes
that were not funny....my daddy coming to see his baby girl's baby girl.... Nurse J latching my baby on to nurse and saying it was a good thing that she was a natural
because I was passed out....seeing normal with one eye closed.... blacking out again.... getting out of the bed and going to the bathroom.... peri bottle, tucks pads, and fake underwear.... another bed... my brand new baby daughter in my arms .... sleep. At some point during the night a nurse came in and told my mama that I needed to put my baby in the bassinet. I said "No." and went back to sleep. I nursed her a couple of times through the night, but I don't really remember how or when.
I woke up the next morning with my daughter in my arms and tried to make sense of the night before. It was then, and still is like a nightmare. And, until recently, it would play over and over again uncontrollably in my head. I couldn't understand where it went awry. I worked it backwards in my mind. I should have taken control (but I had told them that I didn't want it this way). I should not have gone to a male doctor (but they promised me I would have a female). I should have stayed home when they told me my midwife was out of town (but I thought it was too late for a home birth). I should have planned for a home birth when I found out Dr. F wasn't going to be there (but I trusted them).
I didn't have many visitors in the hospital. The truth is that I didn't want any. I just wanted to go home.
I went home after two and a half days in that prison. I was so glad to be home that I nearly cried as my husband laid down next to my daughter and myself in our bed. We were finally where we should have been all along. Seven weeks later, when my sister had her daughter with the Midwife S (a beautiful and peaceful experience), my mama spoke to Nurse J. She cleared up a lot of questions we had about my birth for us. "It was the most barbaric delivery I have ever seen in this hospital." she said. She then continued to say that she was so upset by the delivery that she wrote letter to both Dr. F and her group of midwives and to the hospital. It was a great relief to learn the truth about things. And to know that we weren't just overreacting.
I blamed everyone involved-- Dr. F for leaving when I was due.
But she had to have surgery. The nurses for not letting me do what Dr. F and the midwives had said I could do.
But they were just following Dr.K's orders. Even my husband and my mama for not standing up for what I wanted in a birth.
But I screamed what I wanted an d Dr.k didn't care. Finally, Dr. K for deciding ahead of time that I couldn't push out a posterior baby. for jamming the vacuum though I screamed in pain for him to stop. For not letting me kneel which made my baby's hear rate drop causing a rush to get her out. For pulling her out of my so fast that it caused fourth degree tares. For making me feel violated. For making the birth of my daughter a nightmare. For the flash backs that consumed me at times. for all these things and more I blamed him.
Only recently have I been able to forgive him for the way he treated me. I even blamed God for not protecting me from that nightmare.
Finally,after five months, I began to understand. God tried to protect me.
I didn't listen. I should have NEVER gone there in the first place! I should have trusted that the bad feeling I had was from God. I should have listened to my husband's leading when he finally said we should just stay home. But I let my worldly concerns about home birth overrule what I knew deep down was right for me, my family, and my birth. I put my trust in the doctors and midwives more than in God Himself. For that I could only blame myself. I prayed long and hard and I ask God to forgive me for not listening to His guidance and to help me to listen in the future. I know I am forgiven, as if it never even happened. The flashbacks have faded. Though I still remember it as a nightmare, it is only a reminder of the repercussions of not following my heart and God's calling. A reminder to NEVER let it happen again. I pray with all my heart that I never have to return to that place. Dr. K was wrong for treating me the way that he did, but I went into the hospital (his house). In
his house, I had to follow
his rules. Next time it will be
my house,
my rules. Next time (Lord willing) will be a home birth!
Today, my daughter is six months old. We are both healthy and happy. I have healed physically, though not until recently. I love being a mama. I love my little family. I am so grateful for everything that God has given me. I still mourn the loss of my birth from time to time. I still have a hard time thinking or talking about it for very long. People that haven't had a traumatic birth can never really understand the way that it feels. Some people say that I have a healthy daughter, I should be happy.
I am happy. I love the the conclusion. I just wish I could change a few things about the story. Some people say that I should sue Dr. K for malpractice. But that wouldn't change my birth story. And honestly, I have forgiven him. It is a fine line to walk. Forgetting enough about the trauma to not let it interfere with my life, but remembering enough to never let something like that happen again. I guess while I'm learning to do so, I'll just keep on loving God, my husband, my daughter, my family, and my new life as a mama. After all, it is a wonderful life to be living!
, Spring, Summer
and Fall
. Each book has awesome illustrations and simple text about everyday living within the particular season. We also read My First Flip Flap Book of Seasons. 
The children really liked it because it had several flaps to open.
and 
