Anne TootillTo Be or Not to Be a Mother - Part Two
December 22nd 2006 16:05
Today I was giving birth. It was on the calendar. Scheduled just like any other doctor appointment. Unlike the first time (the Josh time), this time the process was a whole lot more civil.
This time there was NO hopping around my house in excruciating pain as my husband phoned the doctor and told him I was in labor and the doc told my husband to leave for the hospital in 8 hours, at 8 A.M. But fearing that I’d give birth in my Honda Accord while stuck in rush hour traffic on the LIE (Long Island Expressway) we’d left immediately. By the way Josh was born at 5 A.M., you do the math.
This time there was NO screaming (me at my husband), NO wetting my pants, the floor, the car (my water hadn’t yet broke) and NO uncontrollable shaking (me – hormones, my husband- panic). Nope, this time I packed my bag – which again my husband was told to take home with him after I gave birth leaving me again with that not so adorable hospital gown with the peek-a-boo behind – kissed Josh good-bye, told his babysitter that one of the grandparents would be there to relieve her by 5 P.M. and then left to have a baby.
This time when I checked in at the hospital I wasn’t worrying that the baby would fall out before they finished all the paperwork because they kept me waiting forever and then it took so long (I had had no previous birthing experience). And this time I wasn’t left alone in a room with the moaning and crying of a post- cesarean patient, not one medical professional having checked my progress from the getgo.
This time I calmly checked in, changed into a hospital gown and then was taken to a labor room where I was hooked up to an I.V. of Pitocin (spellcheck), a labor- inducing drug. And even though I was in no immediate distress, like the previous time, I had plenty of health professionals coming and going and monitoring me from the moment I lay on that hospital bed.
This time there was NO hopping around my house in excruciating pain as my husband phoned the doctor and told him I was in labor and the doc told my husband to leave for the hospital in 8 hours, at 8 A.M. But fearing that I’d give birth in my Honda Accord while stuck in rush hour traffic on the LIE (Long Island Expressway) we’d left immediately. By the way Josh was born at 5 A.M., you do the math.
This time there was NO screaming (me at my husband), NO wetting my pants, the floor, the car (my water hadn’t yet broke) and NO uncontrollable shaking (me – hormones, my husband- panic). Nope, this time I packed my bag – which again my husband was told to take home with him after I gave birth leaving me again with that not so adorable hospital gown with the peek-a-boo behind – kissed Josh good-bye, told his babysitter that one of the grandparents would be there to relieve her by 5 P.M. and then left to have a baby.
This time when I checked in at the hospital I wasn’t worrying that the baby would fall out before they finished all the paperwork because they kept me waiting forever and then it took so long (I had had no previous birthing experience). And this time I wasn’t left alone in a room with the moaning and crying of a post- cesarean patient, not one medical professional having checked my progress from the getgo.
This time I calmly checked in, changed into a hospital gown and then was taken to a labor room where I was hooked up to an I.V. of Pitocin (spellcheck), a labor- inducing drug. And even though I was in no immediate distress, like the previous time, I had plenty of health professionals coming and going and monitoring me from the moment I lay on that hospital bed.
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