About three years ago is was anticipating the arrival of my first
born. We know he’ll be a boy. We have picked out a name for him that
means manly, courageous and a biblical name for his second name which
means dove.
Carefully watching my belly move. Awaiting for
that signs of contraction. We are all excited on his pending arrival.
Mine and my baby’s bag are all packed a month before. And we wait and
wait.. until the late night of Independence day, June twelve in the
year two thousand and six, I didn't’t see nor feel may water bag broke,
but I felt extreme pain that I can no longer stand by myself. I knew
that it was time.
We drove to the hospital which was an hour
away from our house (I know! I know! Why did I have to choose to give
birth to a far away hospital when there’s a hospital 5 minutes away from
where we live – that’s another story..)
I was looking at
the time.. it was a few minutes past midnight of June Thirteen. My
husband drove quietly (probably tense and scared out of his wits) as he
listens to my Agrhhh!! and Aaahhhww!! After like somewhat an eternity of
pain every 5-10 minutes. We have arrived at the emergency room around
1:15am. Why do they ask so many questions even if they see a person is
in obvious pain and is having a baby? I no longer have the strength to
answer all their questions, I just hand over them the written
instruction from my OBGyne on who to call when I came in for delivery
(Anesthesiologist, Pediatrician etc.).
After a few more
questions, they finally wheeled me to the Delivery Room. Adrian have to
stay outside the DR since it’s a hospital policy that only the
attendants and the patient are allowed inside (except if we attended
Lamaze and opt to have a natural, drug free birth).
Inside
the room, still tons of questions, what time did my water bag broke? (I
didn't notice really! Might have peed while it broke), how long are the
intervals of my contractions? what time I last ate? what time I last
pooped? etc… After which I was hooked into a machine that checks the
heart rate of my baby, they did an IE to check if how far am I dilated…
believe it or not my cervix was already 8cm dilated which meant I was
already in active labor while I was still in the car!!! HUWAHTT?!. and
my OB hasn’t arrived yet.
And so I was moved into the Operating Room by 1:45am.. I saw nurses placing oxygen on my
nose.. clipping my finger with a heart rate monitor.. saw a Sister (I
was in a Catholic Hospital anyway) who I assume is either a nurse or a
doctor because she was wearing a white gown and a stethoscope on her
neck..I remember her touching my cheek and saying "Its gonna be all
right"... "Don't push ... keep breathing...your baby needs the oxygen,
If you push you stop breathing..." But I can't help the urge of
pushing... he wants to come out already!!! Minutes passed and my doctor
finally came.. they turned me sideways and gave me a shot... I think it
was epidural because every pain just seems to fade.. and the next thing I
know.. some one was on top of me pushing my belly down. I heard my
doctor said "PUSH, hold it for 10 seconds..like you are constipated"..
and so I pushed with all my might.. hold it for 10 seconds and then
breathe..........and then another push.. I can hear them counting.. 1,
2, 3, 4....10. For the third and final push.. I passed out. At 2:24am I
finally gave birth.
The moment that I was looking forward to see my son for the first time didn't't happened
. They did not
place
him on my chest after delivery because I passed out! As in! I was
conscious only during the time they are stitching me up and cleaning my
uterus. I can't even speak.. I was too groggy to ask where my son
was... I was exhausted to the highest level.
The next thing I knew I was in the recovery room. Waking up at 5am after hearing a noises
from
chatting nurses and interns. Then I was brought to my room around 7am
where my husband was waiting for me. He have see our son already and I
so envy him for seeing our son first..but then I was advised by the
Pedia that he was fine and he will be brought to our room around 10am.
And
finally, I met him, this little person with little hands and complete
fingers and toes.. black hair and chinky closed eyes.. red chubby
cheeks. The little guy that I have kept for myself for 9 months is now
born to this world.
