Nightmare
I took a nap earlier and had a very vivid and horrible nightmare. In it, I was pregnant and about to give birth. Yep, that was it, that was the scary part.
I had a terrible experience during the birth of my last daughter, so bad that I wrote a letter to my OB about it:
> Dear Dr. R,
>
> This is a very difficult letter for me to write. On the one hand, I
> want you to know how very much I appreciated your care and attention
> during my pregnancy. On the other, I feel that you should know some
> events that happened during labor and delivery involving your call
> partner, Dr. C.
>
> Dr. C’s rude demeanor and callous disregard for my and my
> husband’s feelings and wishes have been quite a blow to us; indeed,
> she has made me question whether I am mentally and emotionally able
> to have more children. Looking back on my birthing experience should
> recall feelings of joy, but I’m afraid that I will always have
> negative feelings about this birth because of her actions. I would
> even go so far to say that if I do ever become pregnant again, I
> couldn’t possibly put myself in a position where she would be on
> call, either during an emergency or during labor.
>
> My first contact with Dr. C was around 36 weeks, when I felt
> like I was having some contractions. I called in on a weekend to
> find out if there was anything I needed to do, and she was the doctor
> on call. When I told her that you had given me an internal exam
> earlier that week, as was your habit at 36 weeks, she stated that I
> had to have been mistaken; none of the call partners did exams at
> that stage. When I reiterated that you did indeed do the exam as a
> matter of routine, she cut me off saying that I had to be wrong. To
> be honest, I was so taken aback by her attitude that I can’t remember
> now what advice she gave me on the contractions I was having.
>
> When I met her face-to-face at the hospital, she measured my fundal
> height and expressed doubts that I would deliver vaginally within 10
> minutes of her arrival. A couple of hours later, she stated twice
> more that I would not deliver vaginally. She seemed quite certain of
> the fact. It was only as an afterthought that she mentioned that she
> would give me a chance to do so.
>
> As you and I discussed at length, my birth plan was fairly
> straightforward. I wanted to do everything that I could to avoid any
> sort of medications, but the health and wellbeing of the baby was of
> ultimate importance. To that end, there were specific items that I
> included in my birth plan. Several of these items were completely
> disregarded by Dr. C, including:
>
> * Rupture of my forebag without asking or discussion first – had I
> had a chance to protest, I certainly would have done so; as it was,
> she did it so quickly that I was left stunned.
> * Setting a time limit to how fast I should dilate, regardless of the
> fact that the baby and I were doing fine (apart from the time limit
> from when my membranes ruptured). Without warning, she appeared in
> the room at 11pm and said that I had a choice of an IUPC or a
> c-section, because I had been at 8 centimeters for 3 hours. During
> those 3 hours, I had been coping with contractions perfectly well
> without drugs, but had taken a break and was semi-reclining on the
> bed, a position I knew was slowing down my labor, but allowing me to
> relax a bit. If I had known that there would be consequences, I
> would certainly have gotten back up and walked or squatted to help
> hurry dilation.
> * Repeated offers of drugs, completely undermining my self-confidence.
> * Use of cord traction in third stage.
>
> When I asked Dr. C if she had read my birth plan, she hedged
> the question and stated that I should know from my first labor and
> delivery that birth plans simply go out the window.
>
> Finally, and though I understand that this is quite subjective, I
> feel that I should make a mention of Dr. C’s attitude. I
> don’t recall the last time I was interrupted or cut off so many times
> by an adult. Additionally, when the nurse went to get her from the
> sleep room to catch the baby, she walked in scowling and rubbing her
> eyes, as if I were an inconvenience. It would have been nice if she
> had seemed happy for me, since she knew how hard I had worked to get
> to that point. She didn’t even sign my souvenir birth certificate.
> Granted, her attitude paled in comparison to the anesthesiologist’s,
> who told me (about placing my epidural), “This sure is easier on a
> little skinny woman”.
>
> Dr. R, my first delivery was blindingly difficult, but I look back
> on it with a sense of joy, pride, and accomplishment. When I think
> about my second I feel hurt, sad, and the joy and wonder of birth are
> missing. I feel cheated that I didn’t have that fantastic, wonderful
> moment during delivery that I did with my first. Instead, it was
> just relief that the whole unhappy experience was soon to be over.
>
> I’m not sure if this letter accurately conveys what I’m feeling. I
> know that I’m unable to speak about it much, as I tend to get quite
> shaky and choked up if I do. If you’re willing, (hub) would like to
> meet with you for a cup of coffee to talk in person about what
> happened. Please feel free to phone us at xxx-xxxx if you have any
> questions or comments.
>
> Sincerely,