My Birth Choices

The birth of Cameron Aiden Casson

September 13 2012

My water started leaking at approx. 3am on Wednesday September 11. Ihad ctx starting by 5:30am which were very mild,approx ½ hour apart. I was bothered a bit about the fact that this labour was starting almost the same way that Colin’s had. He is my firstborn and I ended up with a caesarean section after going in because my water broke. I would stress on it for a bit, let a few tears out and then be over it. This repeated a few times until I realized that my water wasn’t going to break completely and the ctx were picking up a bit. I had a nap with the boys at 1:30pm, woke up about 3:30pm and the ctx had slowed down some. I started making hamburger soup and waited to have the ctx pick up again. They were still a ½ hour apart at this point, but starting to have a bit more zing to them. Throughout the evening they started to slowly get closer together but I still had a ways to go before he would be born. I went to bed and was able to doze a bit while contracting about every 10-15 minutes with them lasting about 30-45 seconds. Then, finally about 3:30am on Thursday September 13, the contractions had finally gotten into a good rhythm at 10 min apart and lasting for about a min to a min and a half long. I got out of bed and decided to sit on the birth ball and surf facebook. ;D The ball didn’t do too much for me so I went back to standing and making figure 8 motions with my hips during the ctx.

About 4:30am I went back to bed and the ctx started slowing slightly, just enough to give me a bit of a break for a couple hours. I got out of bed at 6am and went out to the living room to chill out with my oldestwho had woken up just a few minutes before. I went about getting my son and myself something to eat and the contractions tapered right off for about a half hour. By 7am my hubby and my youngest had woken up and also come out of the bedroom. I made my youngest up a bowl of yoghurt and granola and decided to have some myself. I had to stand up and swivel my hips through about 3 or 4 contractions while eating. When I was done I decided to go back to bed for a bit and lie down. I went to the washroom before lying down, time is fuzzy from this point on but I think it was just before 9am. While sitting on the toilet, I got hit by one monster of a contraction that told me it was definitely game time. ;D I would just like to say that I give kudos to the women that can labour while sitting on a toilet. I am NOT one of them lol. From this point on I only had about 10 ctx before Cameron was born!

Ray decided that he should get the water going into the pool. I had gotten a $30 pool for birthing in from Jysk in Medicine Hat, no fishies and it looked a lot like the La Bassine pools. Well, when I got through 2 or 3 more ctx and the water was only up about an inch in the pool, I knew that I wouldn’t be able to have a waterbirth. The ctx at this point were coming very strong and I had pushing sensations with each one that kept getting stronger. Thinking back now, I believe this is where Cameron did his moving down in my pelvis and getting into position to be born. I found it hard to work with these ctx and got very vocal before remembering to breathe with each one.  I wandered between the two bedrooms in our house leaning(hanging on for dear life lol) to the dressers that were tall enough to stand with for a bit before I decided on staying in our bedroom. We got the plastic sheets that I had ordered underneath me along with chux pads and I tried to stay in sync with the ctx that were coming fast and furious. I have to admit that these ctx took me by surprise as they were so different than the ones that I had with Connor. When I had Connor I was lying in the labour bed pretty much on my back, with these ones I was upright and they were quite a bit stronger than the ones I had in the hospital with Connor. I laboured standing up for a few more contractions and then decided that my undies had better come off because Cameron felt very close to being born. I had to get lower as I knew that I couldn’t or didn’t want to give birth standing upright. I remember turning around and saying “What do I want? What do I want?” I decided to kneel down at the end of our bed and it was the perfect height to rest my arms on. I held onto my head lots and roared through the rest of the ctx, trying to remember to breathe as well so I didn’t tear. I remember feeling his head move down with ctx and then coming back a bit each time, which was actually really cool to me. I also remember feeling his head for the first time and that was awesome. One more ctx and his head was out, then I lifted my left leg and was able to push out his shoulders and the rest of his body. In all I believe it wasn’t more than an hour between that first pushy ctx on the toilet and when he was born. I actually think it might have been a bit less than an hour. He was born at 9:27 in the morning. He was only out for a couple seconds and he was already screaming his head off lol. I think he liked the swiftness of his birth about as much as I did! It is amazing though, I forgot all about how difficult it was in about 5 minutes of him being in my arms

Now for a little back story on why we chose to birth at home, even knowing that there couldn’t be a midwife present. When I found out I was pregnant I knew that I wanted to be under the care of the midwives here in town. I have had two pregnancies with the care of doctors and two hospital births. The first ended in a caesarean that I know was unnecessary and the second was a hospital VBAC. I am wholly supportive of having doctors/OBs as your care provider if you are high risk, but I know now that when you are low risk having a care provider that understands natural birth is a much better option. I have done a ton of research on natural birth, talked to many women and read many, many birth stories since those two births. I also took a course to become a doula in the year after Connor(my second) was born. I knew that I would be more comfortable with midwives attending me and was hoping that I would be able to have this baby at home, with our whole family present. I attended the meet and greet the hospital runs each month for the midwives and their prospective clients and there found out I would be seeing Arian. We talked a little bit and I felt very comfortable right off the bat and realized that she shared many of the same ideals of birth that I had. She was hopeful that home birth would be an option in the near future for the community. As my pregnancy progressed the option of homebirth was put on hold indefinitely and I realized that I would have to make a very difficult decision. I decided that I was not going to give up my dream of having this baby at home with his dad and siblings present. It was one that I went back and forth on a few times and shed many tears over. I knew in my heart that birth was about as safe as life gets and everything would likely turn out fine. I was honest with myself and also know that there can be things that go wrong, but with no interventions and a mama that is comfortable and feeling safe in her surroundings birth is extremely safe. I joined a few unassisted birthing groups and talked to a couple other moms that I knew had birthed at home with just their partners for support. Near the end of my pregnancy the health region hired a new manager for the midwifery program. Arian has talked with him and he is open to new ideas and helping in any way that he can to make homebirth an option for this region.

 I am very happy with this news and am already reaping the benefits as Arian is able to come out to our house for home visits/baby wellness checks. While I am very sad and feel like I missed out on an opportunity to work with an amazing lady for my birth, I am again hopeful for the future of birthing mamas in our area.

Jinea's Birth

In Jan of 2000 we had moved to a new city. It felt like we had been waiting forever for that second little line to show up on the stick. Many trips had been made to the Dr.'s office to have a pregnancy test done and many done at home. The response from the Dr. was like a little knife to my heart every time, "I'm sorry honey, it's negative."
In June 2001, she finally came through the door with a smile on her face and my heart did a little skip. This time her news was the happiest I had heard in a long time! "You are pregnant!!!! Congratulations!"
I wanted to do a happy dance right there in her office, but it probably would have been rather like Kathrine Heigl in The Ugly Truth, so I restrained myself and waited till I left the office. (I imagine they have some hilarious security camera footage from the elevator though!) My first ultrasound on June 19 showed me to be 5 weeks along.
I was sent back to Regina to see the specialist once a month and had an appt with my local Dr. once a month as well. I was monitored through ultrasound and bloodwork. I did have some spotting early on around 10 weeks but it did not last long. I had no morning sickness whatsoever, thank God! I felt wonderful.
I enjoyed every moment of my pregnancy with her. We had decided early on that we did not want to find out if we were having a boy or girl. I wanted to have a surprise. We had a list of names as long as both of our arms put together. We slowly narrowed them down to about three choices for each sex. About a month or so before Jinaea was born, I had a dream about this little baby girl who had dark wavy hair. She was beautiful.
I was determined not to fear. I would not fear miscarriage. God had brought us this far and I would not give up on his miraculous power now. We continued praying the prayers in the supernatural childbirth book and speaking scripture over this little life that was growing inside me. 

On Sept 11, 2001 I was about 4 months pregnant. I turned on the T.V. and found out, like everyone else in the world, that life would never be the same.
I sat glued to the T.V., tears pouring down my face as I wept for the lives that were lost that day and for their families. I imagine that pregnancy hormones played a part in it as well, but my tears continued for weeks as more and more was revealed of the tragedy that our brothers and sisters on the other side of the border were facing. There were many stories of women having babies in the weeks following or women who were pregnant, whose babies would never meet their daddies.  It broke my heart to think of these women and men who had such big dreams for their futures and now that future was going to be so drastically different.

At the end of October of 2001 we moved to our current city and settled in. Greg had started a new career, self employed as a Farrier. We came here because the business opportunities were more abundant. We moved into a small two bedroom townhouse and began to prepare for our baby to join us.
About mid November I could wait no longer, I set up the baby's room. I remember going into the room often just to run my fingers over the soft blankets and make sure the little stuffed animals that were waiting in the crib were placed perfectly. I took out all the little clothes I had been storing since our other babies and washed them. I felt joy well up in my heart and tears in my eyes as I gently placed them into the empty drawers again. 

December 2001, I was now 7 months pregnant. Yay, we made it this far with no trouble. Our baby was healthy and growing by the week. I was still seeing Dr. A in Regina, now every two weeks.
Little did we know our lives were about to change forever on Dec 12th. I will give you a brief write up here but will share the complete story on another entry. Greg had played floor hockey with a men's group on Dec 11th. When he came home that night, he was in severe pain to the point where he was having trouble breathing.  We thought it was from his shoulder.
We made a trip to the emergency room where they told him it was probably muscle spasms and gave him an injection and sent us home. This was not the first time this had happened so the next day, when he was still in a lot of pain I insisted that we go back to the Dr and see what was going on. We found out my husband had cancer, a football size tumour behind his right lung.
Through the stress of the next few months, I could have very easily experienced complications with the pregnancy, but God protected our baby. I prayed so hard for my husband during those months, but also for our baby. I knew that I could not protect our baby in the way that it needed to be and so I prayed. I could not do this in my own strength, but He could. 
Our baby was due Feb 16, 2002. I was supposed to deliver our baby in Regina and so we packed up and headed in to stay at our cousin's house until the baby came. I was as ready as I could be. I didn't know what life was going to look like in the future anymore, but I knew the One who held my future in His hands and I trusted him with all my heart, soul and strength. Don't get me wrong, there were moments that I was freaking out inside, but I knew that trust in Him was the only thing that was going to carry me through.
As the days continued passing by and no sign of our little one joining us yet, I was getting very impatient. I just wanted to hold our baby in my arms and see it's face. It was so hard to wait!!!
On Feb 25th I went to see Dr. A. and he told me they were going to induce me the next day. He did not feel our baby was in danger, however he did think it was best to deliver it as soon as possible. We went back to the house to get things ready and head to the hospital. We were waiting for the phone call to tell us what time to come in, but instead of telling us that, they called to tell us that I would not be getting induced the following day as planned.
I was so disappointed. I was in tears. The head of L&D had overruled my Dr. and said I could not come in. I was mad actually. There was nothing more I could do and so we settled in for another night hoping I would go into labor on my own. The next day I was to go back in and see Dr. A. He told us the same thing again, that we would be induced the following day. We headed back to the house to wait for the phone call the next morning. When they called and they told us the induction plan was canceled again.  My Dr. had tried to convince the head of L&D that there was no concern that our baby was small, it would not need an incubator, but that he just wanted to deliver it A.S.A.P. to avoid any complications. I was now 9 days overdue and the head of L&D said that if by the 28th I had not gone into labor naturally, that he would let me come in for the induction.
Around 4 in the afternoon on the 26th (when I was in the middle of a pity party inside my heart and outside on my face too) we got a call from Dr. A again. He informed us that he had talked with a colleague back in our home town and that if we got there by 6p.m. they had agreed to induce me. We packed up and headed out! I still was praying that I would go into labor on my own and God is faithful. About half way home, my contractions started. We made it to the hospital and got settled into the room on L&D. The Dr. attending the birth was Dr. L. I was not sure what to expect because this was our first meeting. I had built myself up to being ready to give birth with a Dr. in attendance that I had been seeing for years and trusted. I was having difficulty switching that trust to this situation. It was a bit scary for me actually.  They determined that as long as I was progressing at a rate they were comfortable with, they would not turn on the drip. I wish I had taken the time to make a birth plan and talk to more people about their birth experiences before I went in. I had been present at one birth previously, however it was different when I was the one on the bed. If you are reading this and are expecting a baby, particularly your first, please take the time to inform yourself. Talk openly with other women to find out what birth was like for them. Educate yourself and make decisions you feel comfortable with for your baby's birth. If you do this, things will feel more in control and you will have more confidence during your laboring hours and delivery. I would strongly suggest hiring a doula and I can recommend an absolutely wonderful one if you decide to go that route. I wish I had done so.
I did progress for the most part at a rate they were satisfied with and was handling the labor well. I took no pain med intervention and felt good about that. My mom had arrived at the hospital and was walking the halls with me, holding my hand and rubbing my back or getting me ice water. I was so glad to have her there because Greg could not handle all the walking or long periods of standing. (You will understand why in my post later on about his health) When I had been in labor about 20 hours, Dr. L. decided I was no longer progressing fast enough and turned on the drip. Now the labor quickly became much more intense. About half an hour before Jinaea was born, I conceded to the epidural. They called for the anesthetist, but he was in surgery and could not come for half an hour more. The nurse checked me at about 5:25p.m. and said I was about 8cm dilated.  About ten minutes later I told her I felt like I needed to push. She said, "Oh no, you are not ready to push yet." I told her I couldn't stop it. She lifted the sheet and said, "Oh my!" She called for the Dr. I had not screamed or yelled or even moaned loudly up til this point in labor. I pushed once and her head was out. As it came out, I let a small scream out and the nurse beside me said, "Really Michelle. That is not necessary."  I then did something that felt like a completely natural thing for me to do. I reached down to feel the baby's head, only to have my hand swatted away by the Dr. saying "Keep your hands out of here, that is unsanitary." 
There are two of the things which I think would have turned out differently had I educated myself on my rights as a patient and woman giving birth and developed a clear birth plan. I never would have taken the pitocin, and I would have felt my baby's head if I wanted to! I also think that having a Doula there with me would have made a huge difference in my confidence in myself and my body's God given ability to birth.
One more push and she was out. They whisked her away and continued with me. I had to have 1 stitch and there was a little bit of problems with the placenta and bleeding a bit more than normal after. They did have some blood on hand just in case. I heard, "IT'S A GIRL." My heart melted.....I couldn't wait to see her and hold her. 
Greg was the first one to be able to hold Jinaea. It was a beautiful thing to watch his heart be stolen by this perfect, tiny human being who was part him and part me. She was 8lbs. 1.5oz and 20.5in long. She was born at 5:34p.m. February 27, 2002.
Our miracle baby had finally arrived.

Zoe's Birth

Zoe's birth was less than ideal in many ways, but it was what it was. This post is part of a letter (with names removed of course) that I wrote to tell my doctor and other applicable staff at the hospital, about the night Zoe was born.  I was encouraged to write it by a grief support person who knew that this was not the norm at our hospital, in order to bring change where it was needed. I no longer feel angry about it and I have chosen to forgive and ask God to bring healing and peace...Here is her birth story...

Our story begins when my husband and I found out the middle of April that we were expecting our seventh baby. This would be our fourth baby here on earth with us as three of our babies are already in heaven. To say we were excited is an understatement. This was to be our last child. The completion of our family unit. Everything was going fine as the pregnancy progressed. The baby was perfectly normal and healthy according to all ultrasounds and check-ups. We were hoping for another little girl, but of course would have been very happy with a little boy too.
I had my twelve week ultrasound and the baby was moving lots, jumping around, and the heartbeat was perfect. The baby even appeared to wave at us once during the ultrasound. We got some beautiful pictures that day that I am very thankful for as that is almost all we have left of her.

My 20 week ultrasound was scheduled for July 20th. Our whole family was very anxious to find out if this new member of our family was going to be a boy or a girl and to have a glimpse of this blessing of life on the ultrasound screen again. When I went for the ultrasound that Tuesday, I never would have guessed the grief and devastation that would follow. My 8 year old daughter came with me to the ultrasound because she wanted to be there when I found out if it was a sister or a brother for her. The Dr did some measuring and we were trying so hard to be patient. Then the worst words I have heard in my life came out of his mouth. He said "I have some bad news. There is no heartbeat, I am really sorry." I thought I MUST not have heard him right. There must be a mistake. He must be kidding, but how could he joke about something like this. I looked at his eyes, they were very serious, I said "Pardon me?" He repeated the information. It felt as though all the air had been taken out of the room and I was falling into a dark hole. I could not stop the tears. He asked if there had been any indication of a miscarriage. I said no, this had been a completely normal healthy pregnancy so far. I asked if he was sure and he explained his diagnosis. Time from that moment on has become very surreal to me.

In the days following the ultrasound, we prayed for a miracle for our baby. Desperately hoping, as I am sure any parent in our situation does, that something would change or that this was all a big mistake. An appointment was made for me with my family Dr and through consultations with the two specialists, it was decided that it was safe for me to continue carrying my baby for up to two more weeks, as long as no other complications arose. I did not want another D&C unless it was absolutely necessary, as I regretted that decision with my other miscarriages. I wanted to deliver my baby in the way that she was supposed to come into this world, not have her removed from my body. I did not want to be induced either because I knew that my body could handle the delivery and wanted our baby to be born in it's own time.

I talked with my Doula, with others who had been through this and read people's stories to try to prepare myself for the insurmountable, unthinkable task that was in front of us. We had not been here before.  We have delivered live babies, I knew what to expect there, but never one who has already passed away.  I did not know what we were going to see or how this was going to feel.  I read many stories about how couples, even though they are going through one of the hardest, most horrible times of their lives, are able to have some items that help them remember their baby. They are given pictures, footprints, hand prints, gown, blanket, hat and memorabilia from the birth of their baby. These things give them some measure of comfort and something tangible to say that their baby existed.

If that indeed was how our birth experience would have gone, then at least I would have something that had been in contact with her to hold onto now and remember our little Zoe by. That is her name....Zoe. To us, she was not just "the products of conception," "the fetus" or "the IUFD" as the medical profession calls her. She was our much desired, anxiously awaited, precious, beloved baby girl. She was Jinaea, Jaron and Kyler's sister that they were so excited to have coming as part of our family.
She already had an identity to us and was very much a big part of our lives in the 22 weeks she was on earth.

I started experiencing cramping and some bleeding on the morning of Aug 2nd, at 22 weeks. We went into the hospital right away as my family Dr. had instructed us to. We were expecting to be delivering our little baby soon but desperately wishing the outcome was going to be different. We were sent to Emerg. The nurse in Emerg took my papers and listened while we explained our situation. She was very kind and caring. We were told to wait out in the waiting room and they would be with us as soon as they could. Moments later she returned to tell us we were to go up to the labor and delivery ward because the specialist that was on wanted to see us there.

When we arrived on upstairs and gave my papers to the nurse, it seemed that she was not very happy about having us there. She was a bit abrupt and said she didn't know where to "put" me. She said "It is going to be awhile before the Dr. can see you as he is finishing up a procedure." We said that was fine, we didn‘t mind waiting. She then said "Follow me, you can wait in here I guess." She took us into the non-stress test room, but then said that if we wanted we could wait in the sitting room around the corner because it would be awhile. It was not so much her words but her lack of a smile and lack of kindness in her voice that made me feel unwelcome. I thought that surely if she knew what we were there for, that she would treat us with a bit more kindness. We waited for about an hour for the OB/GYN and when he arrived we went back into the non-stress test room.

The OB/GYN was very kind and sympathetic, apologizing for our loss more than once. He quietly talked to us about what we were facing, asked me some questions and told me he would examine me to see if I was dilated. With many tears and my heart aching, I climbed onto the bed. After examining me, he determined that I was not yet dilated, but something was definitely happening as far as the bleeding was concerned. He said that because there was no way for them to predict how long it would take for the baby to come, that I could wait at home until we were closer. My husband and I agreed that we would go home and wait. He again said he was sorry for our loss and that if we had any questions we could call. We went out into the hall after I got dressed. The same nurse who had escorted us in then asked me to follow her back into the room. She said she needed to take my blood pressure. She got out the blood pressure cuff and at that point she did say she was sorry about our loss and if we had any questions to call. While she was doing my blood pressure, with what sounded like annoyance in her voice, she said "Now when you come back in to deliver, you need to go to Emerg. DO NOT (strong emphasis was put on these words) come back to Women's Health because you will get sent back down again and we wouldn't want you to have to be shifted between departments now would we." She put things away and then again, before I walked out the door, she repeated " Make sure you go to Emerg, you do not need to come up here when you return." Again, it was not so much the words that she used, but the tone with which she said them.

I felt very much like she did not want me on her ward, even though the situation I was dealing with seemed to belong there. That is where women go to deliver a baby after all. I left there feeling very small, unwelcome and like I was an inconvenience to her.
We headed home to await the event we were so wanting to not happen this way, praying for a miracle even still. My contractions strengthened and came more often as the afternoon went on. I swayed through them, remembering back to my previous labors, tears pouring down my face knowing what was coming. Shortly after supper, I went to the washroom and felt pressure. Zoe had moved into the birth canal and if I pushed, she was going to be born. I “held her in” with my hand and called my husband. We phoned Women's Health to see if we should come in or deliver her at home. They said to come in, and to bring the "products of conception" with us. My husband repeated that the baby was not born yet. I wanted to scream. I wanted to say our baby is not just the products of conception. She is my BABY. She is a person and she is a member of our family. At least give her that much dignity. My heart begged, please do not call her that again! My husband helped me into the van and we headed to the hospital. 

We found a wheelchair as soon as we got in the front door and my husband wheeled me to admitting. We registered again at admitting after telling the lady at the desk what was happening. She handed me my papers and said to head up to Women's Health. I told her that I had been in that morning and was told that I was not to go up to Women's Health, but that I had to go to Emergency when I came back in. She made a phone call, I believe it was to Emerg and was told that yes I needed to go up to Women's Health. I said "Ok if you are sure." 

My husband pushed me to the elevator and we went up to Women's Health. The elevator doors opened. Scared and agonizing over what we were about to go through, we made our way around the corner to the nurse's station. The nurse from that morning was standing there by the desk with the other nurses. When her eyes made contact with mine, there was no welcome in her eyes. I slowly held out my paper to her hoping that she would take them and that this would not have to be any more horrible than it already felt. Her response to me was, "I told you not to come up here when you came back. They have to see you in Emerg. You belong down in Emerg not here. I am sorry but you are going to have to go back down." Her sorry was very empty and cold. I said "We registered at admitting and the lady told us to come here." She said "No, I told you to go to Emerg." So there I am, trying not to push as the contractions still continued and praying that my baby won’t be born into my pants, sitting in a wheelchair. The world started swirling around me. I looked down the hall thinking, maybe the rooms are all full up here and they just don't have room for us right now. I was hoping to find a valid reason of some sort for her sending us away, because surely there has to be something other than this. The delivery rooms were all dark, doors open and did not appear to be in use at all. I could see that the hopes of a birth with dignity and honor for my baby, and memories, as good as they could be, were going down the drain. My husband turned the wheelchair around. We headed back to the elevator, tears poured down our faces, hearts breaking and hurting even more because we had just been treated like our baby was not worthy of being delivered in a labor and delivery room. I felt broken, humiliated, let down, embarrassed, hurt, angry and very disappointed. I wanted to tell her that she could at the very least have been more sensitive and kind in the way she spoke to us given the situation.
There was no "I realize this is difficult and I am really sorry about this, but we just can't deliver your baby up here," or even "let me make a phone call just to confirm why they think you need to be up here." She just sent us away. 

We went down to Emerg. Let me just stop and say right now, thank God for the nurse that we had talked to in Emerg earlier in the day. She was still on shift that evening when we arrived. She was wonderful. She was so kind and sympathetic. I told her that Women's Health had sent us back down and she looked puzzled, but took my paper anyway. I told her that the baby was ready to come out at any moment if I pushed at all. She took me right away into a room and got me a gown. I told her I just wanted to be able to hold the baby and say goodbye once the delivery was done. She promised that she would make that happen and then, with tears filling her eyes, said how sorry she was for my loss. She assured me that she was going to be there to help me through this. Then she helped me onto the bed to deliver our baby. The baby came out almost immediately when I pushed, but then the bleeding started to get worse. The placenta was not delivering easily and the bleeding was getting heavier. She assured me that my baby was still there on the bed and I could hold the baby but they needed to get the bleeding under control before they could let me do that. 

She talked to me the whole time and was very reassuring. The Dr and nurses started rushing around a little more quickly and my fear level was starting to climb a bit because I had hemorrhaged a few times before. I almost died the last time and did not want that to happen again. They did not have the pitocin in Emerg and so had to call up to Women's Health to have it sent down. Time was ticking, a nurse said "Did they say they were sending it down? They are not here yet." Someone responded "Yes they said they were sending them right away." If I had been up on Women's Health in the first place, that wouldn't have been a problem. The medication would have been easily accessible. The pitocin did come finally and they gave me the needle and put something into my IV which they had started while they were waiting. The Dr. working Emerg that night said that I would probably need a D&C as the placenta was still not delivering despite their efforts. I was told they were calling up to Women's Health and I would be transferred up there to go for the D&C. A stretcher was brought to my door, they moved the chair and table to make space for it to be brought into the room. Suddenly a nurse appears at the door saying Women’s Health had just phoned and said they don't want her transferred there, that she does not have to go from there for the D&C. They say she should be sent straight from here. My Emerg nurse said "The OB/GYN was going to see her upstairs" The nurse at the door said "Well let me call again." Again I was not sure why they seemed so set on not having me up on Women's Health and was left feeling like an inconvenience to them.

In the next few minutes the placenta did deliver on it's own, for which I was grateful. My angel nurse then did her best with what she had available to her in Emerg. She wrapped Zoe in a clean blue disposable hospital bed pad. I can't help but think that if the delivery had occurred in a delivery room, that a baby blanket would have been available to wrap her in. After a little while she brought a towel and laid Zoe in that instead. She said we could have whatever time we needed with Zoe and left the room to give us privacy. We marvelled at how tiny everything was and how perfect.  Right down to her little fingers, toes and nails. The rest of the time we had with her feels too private to share in this letter so I will leave it out. The OB/GYN came down to see me in Emerg and talked us through the next steps, the autopsy, the genetic testing options. He was very compassionate. With his words and actions he cared about us and our situation. It was very much appreciated. 

I don’t know for sure, but I think that if Zoe had been delivered upstairs, they could have done her footprints and hand prints for us. Maybe she could have had a little hat on, maybe not. All the things that I know other mommy's got to take home with them from the hospital as mementos of the short time they did get to have with their baby, I was left without. I ended up having to stay overnight because of blood pressure issues and in the morning, my family Dr. came to see me. I heard him talking to the same nurse that was on the day before when we came in outside the door and hoped she was not coming in to my room with him. When my Dr. asked her if I delivered in Emerg, she said something like “I am not sure.“ I thought how could she say that when she was the one who sent me there to deliver. She did come in with him and stood at the end of the bed. My Dr. said he was sorry for our loss, asked how I was, and talked with me for a few moments. Then he told me I could go home, to make sure to get some rest and come see him in a few weeks to go over how things went. I got my things together and in came the nurse again. She did not have any softness in her tone even now. She said "Well, you were never officially admitted so all I have for you is your white hospital card. You can go" I took the card and tried to muster up the strength to leave behind the only thing that was left that had been in contact with my little Zoe. My hospital gown. I held it for as long as I could, tears pouring down my face, knowing I could not take it with me. It took all I had in me to leave it there on the bed and walk out of the room. I had to force myself to walk out.

We left  the hospital with nothing . No baby, no pictures of her, no footprints, no little hat, no blanket, no gown, no hand prints, not even any papers saying that she existed. It was the most empty I have ever felt in my life. I left my heart there that day, it felt like it had been torn out. It is bad enough to go through the pain and heartache of giving birth to a baby that you know is not going come home with you, that you are not going to experience life with him or her. Then to have none of the other things to remember them by only adds to the harshness. I understand that they are just things, but when it is all you have left of that precious life, those things become very important. The nurse in Emerg offered us compassion, kindness and understanding, the nurse on Women’s Health offered me only coldness in what was the single most difficult moment of our lives. Our baby should have been treated, dead or alive, with honor and dignity. The nurse on Women’s Health offered Zoe none of that.

Yes, there were moments we will always treasure that we got to spend with our angel. I wouldn't trade them for the world. 

Addition to blog entry:
The resolution of this situation from the medical field's standpoint: 
After my letter was delivered, I received phone calls that morning from the head of L&D, the Quality of Care Coordinator for the health region, and my Dr.'s office.
They all expressed their sincere apologies for the experience and I was assured the situation would be looked into further and the nurse dealt with.  The head of L&D and the QCC both assured me that this was not the norm whatsoever, in fact it was the complete opposite.  I was told that the situation was going to be addressed at upcoming meetings with the hospital board and the staff of L&D, and that policy changes would be made so that this would not happen to anyone else in future.  I was given a little arm bracelet that is normally given in these situations and also I was given a beautiful Willow Tree statue of a Dad, Mom and baby. The head of L&D said she knew that by no means did this make up for how things unfolded, but that she wanted to give something to show how sorry she was on behalf of her department. While I appreciate very much the efforts of the QCC and the head of L&D, I have not once heard anything at all by way of an apology from the nurse who treated us so unkindly that day…makes me wonder if she even thinks she did anything wrong.




Michelle Dueck
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Zuri's Birth

I am from Biggar Sask about 50mins from Saskatoon. I am 25 years old... This is my daughter Zuri's birth story....







I think a brief medical history is needed before starting my story. When I was about 14 years old I was diagnosed with a uterine horn and it was removed because of the extreme amount of pain it caused me when I had my monthly period. This basically meant that I had 2 uterus'. (one almost fully developed and another small closed off one that filled with blood and contracted and caused pain) After this was removed I was told I should be able to have children normal like anyone else although I had only 1 tube and 2 ovaries. Sure enough when my partner and I decided to try for a baby it took only a few short months and after my first period since trying we got pregnant.

I saw an OB for the whole pregnancy because no one really seemed sure how my pregnancy would play out. I had about 7 ultrasounds through my pregnancy to “watch” if everything was going well which it was. I had an ultrasound right before going into labour and no one seemed to notice anything...

The night of December 27 2009 my partner Chris Bailey and I were having a family supper for Christmas at my grandmothers. I was 32 weeks pregnant with Zuri. I ate so much turkey and potatoes I felt like I might burst. Little did I know that hours later this would come true.

Just after midnight that same night it turned December 28 2009 and I was playing a game on Facebook. (Treasure Isle) Chris was upstairs sleeping and had to work in the morning. I went into the fridge to eat some left over turkey and chocolate. As I was standing there pigging out I heard a pop and felt a gush. I looked down to see water pouring through my pants. I thought “oh my god I'm peeing my pants!” I grabbed at my crotch and smelt the liquid. Didn't smell like pee and it wouldn't stop. Yes, I was in HUGE denial about my water just breaking. I started to panic and ran upstairs turned the light on in the bedroom and yelled at Chris “ CHRIS GET UP I THINK MY WATER JUST BROKE!” He sat straight up out of a dead sleep and said “Oh my god really? Are you sure?” I said “I think so, look.” I sat on the toilet for a few minutes till I got some clean pants.

I called my mom and told her and in minutes my whole family was at my house, including mom, dad and my younger sister. I am sure I was in denial and shock because I went on Facebook and typed in my status what happened. I started to walk around drinking a pop. I was saying “I have tons of time to pack and get ready because I was reading that women go into labour and it takes hours or even days for the baby to arrive!!” Little did I know that this was NOT the case with me having a baby at 32 weeks.

After my family yelled enough for me to get into the car we discovered there was no gas to make it to the hospital in the city 1 hour away. It was midnight so nothing was open. We had to drive and get my sisters car. Once I got into my sisters car we started to head to the city. (Saskatoon) Chris was driving I was passenger and my mom was in the back seat. My dad and sister followed in there car. About 15-20 minutes since my water broke and just out of town I started to have contractions. My mom was timing them. She kept saying “this isn't right, this can't be right..” I said “what's going on? Why do you seem worried?” She said “Well your contractions seem to be perfectly 5 minutes apart and this happens at the END of labour!” I guess I was STILL in denial because I didn't seem to realize I was very close to having Zuri. I kept having an extreme urge to pee and poop. I had Chris stop the car and got out in the snow and -20 weather and stared to push really hard trying to pee. (I realize NOW this was me wanted to PUSH Zuri out!) After this my contractions were about 3 consistent minutes apart. My mom called 911. I have to “use the bathroom” and it was driving me crazy so I wanted Chris to pull over again. The lady on the phone said “NO, don't let her do that whatever you do!!”

We drove a few more miles and met the ambulance and by the time I got in my contractions were VERY strong and about 2 minutes apart. The paramedic “checked” me and said “I feel a foot!” (I later found out this was her bum pocking out) I said “where? How far out?” She was coming and by now I started to realize this and had to “hold on” and not push.

We pulled into the hospital about 2 ½ hours after my water broke, I was 10 centimetres dilated and Zuri was WELL on her way and breech. My contractions were pretty much one long one by this point and I SO wanted to just push her out. (Knowing what I know now I probably just would have) I was rushed into emergency and the doctor came in and I heard them talking about if they should do a c-section because she was breach or let me push her out. At this point I was not able to speak for myself and just signed the paper for the c-section having no idea what it even said. I could have been signing over my soul for all I knew. I signed the paper and was instantly giving the epidural for a c-section. As this was happening I was trying with everything I had not to push while I had a nurse yelling at me “DON'T PUSH!”

Before I knew it I was cut open and could “feel” them pulling Zuri out then I heard her cry and I was so happy. Zuri was born 4 lbs 4 oz and 16 Inches long! This isn't to small for a baby born at 32 weeks. Chris was right next to me taking pictures of her and telling me she was ok and everything was going great. Thank god for his support. Then the most amazing moment happened and they passed Zuri to Chris and he held her by my face and she was beautiful. Chris was talking to me and she was looking around for him. She recognized his voice and knew this was her daddy. It was simply amazing!

Then this story starts to get sad... I never got to touch her yet and they took her down to the NICU. I was wheeled into the recovery room where I threw up all the turkey and chocolate I ate earlier that night. I really regretted that. After a while I was moved into a room where I go to sleep. Not once did anyone ask or talk to me about breast feeding my baby or pumping. The next day once I realize I had no milk for Zuri and she was getting formula I got upset and started to ask what to do. I didn't get much or any help for that matter. I was just told to use this pump and pump my milk. I later found an amazing nurse that explained everything to me and how to do it and how often. She said about every 2-3 hours around the clock.

This is when the pumping started in. I pumped every 2-3 hours and set my phone alarm to wake up in the night. I will NEVER forget how exciting it was to see the first few drops of milk only a few days later. The first time I started to get milk was about 2:00AM and as it started to come I cried and cried. I pumped for an hour to get about an oz. I made it a point to bring it down to Zuri myself in the middle of the night crying because I was so happy to get it and give it to her and from the pain of the c-section.

Days later I finally got to hold Zuri for the first time. I touched her a few days before but not hold her. This was very difficult because I honestly think I sound horrible when I say this but I did not feel a bond between us. I felt empty and almost like I had “lost” a baby the whole 49 days in the hospital. There was no skin to skin and hardly any breast feeding. I spent most of my time arguing with the nurses back and forth to keep feeding Zuri breast milk. Almost every time I went back into the room they were feeding formula. The reason would be because she was spitting up because of re-flux and I didn't know any better so I listened. I know SO much better now but this didn't help me then.

While in the hospital Chris and I stayed with Zuri and nearly went poor in the process. We could hardly afford rent, food or bills. At times we just didn't pay anything because we couldn't. We need to focus all our attention on and being with Zuri and forget the rest. We had enough stress with being in the hospital. We each had a few breakdowns but thankfully at separate times so we could be there for each other. We also had amazing support from family. My amazing mother was in the city almost daily to be with me. For anyone that has had a baby in the NICU you must know the pain I speak of. PLUS, we were treated like non-humans most often while there. They kicked us out of our room and put us on the dirty floor at one point. One horrific event I will never forget because it was one of the scariest times in my life. I was sitting in the room with Zuri and a large group of doctors and students came in and were looking at Zuri and talking to each other while I was sitting there. They completely ignored me and talked amongst each other. I could hear them saying something about Zuri's heart. I was panicked and asked what was wrong and they just said “oh she has a heart murmur and will be fine” while walking out. I was freaked out and so worried something was wrong with my baby and NO ONE to explain anything to me. I had to wait a few days to find out anything about it. (It is now gone and she is great!) but at the time I had NO idea what was going on. Talk about being treated like an animal.

So 49 days of hell later, it was time for Zuri to come home. It was an amazing but scary day. We took Zuri home in her car seat and she looked so tiny at not yet 5 lbs. For the first few months it was very difficult because I still pumped around the clock every 2-3 hours (through the night) because Zuri had trouble getting enough milk from the breast. I was also extremely afraid to stop pumping and lose my milk. I was 100% against the idea of formula and wanted a large supply of milk in case anything went wrong. It never did. One day I just put the pump away and said “lets try just breast feeding for a few days.” Well ever since then the bottles have never been used again and were put away completely and Zuri is and was exclusively breast fed. I am SO proud to say this! Through all the stress, pain and hardships I never stopped pumping breast milk for my beautiful baby and am so glad I made this choice. So glad I never had to give 1 drop of formula since her early NICU days.

Chris and I went through a lot but we were there for each other through it all and this matters most. Yes, I am sad I never got to have a natural birth but I don't regret anything because it made me the amazing mommy I am. Would I ever go through this again? Not in 100 years! Now that I KNOW better I will DO better! Next time NO formula! I have so many supports (Friends and Eats On Feets milk sharing) I would make sure of this. Would I get a c-section again? NEVER! I missed out on that beautiful skin to skin contact that every mother NEEDS to bond. Like I said I felt like I lost a baby for so long and it took me a while to bond properly with my beautiful baby. Now we get skin to skin daily! I do feel like Zuri and I missed out on what is sacred and special at birth and will do everything I can next time to MAKE SURE this never happens again. This experience has taught Chris and I a lot for better.

Zuri is now almost a year old and breast feeding like a sure pro and not stopping anytime soon. She will wean when she is good and ready. She is strong and healthy and weighs 17 lbs and is 27 ½ Inches long! She is the most amazing little girl. She is loved by all our hearts! I hope other mommies can read this story and gain strength. We will do all we can do as parents to fight for our children and make sure they get what is best for them.


 First time I ever held Zuri, 5th First time Chris (daddy) ever held Zuri. 6th Zuri 1 years old. (Current)

Amy McCarty

Two Paths

Nate’s Birth Story—5 years old




It is hard to remember details from an event of over 5 years ago but sometimes impressions are the most important parts of memory. I remember being anxious and uncertain-wanting this baby to come as soon as possible. Not only did I think that a due date was a guarantee of arrival, I also had believed my Dr. When he told me a month earlier that the baby would come anytime. With Braxton hicks and what I felt to be incredible discomfort, I was eager to be in labour if only to have that baby in my arms. The waiting was challenging to say the least and then the induction process frustrating. What I remember, I remember stages. The administration of cervadil - labouring at home - intense pain of contractions close together - arrival at the hospital - little progress - oxytocin then being administered. Labouring into the night listening to Sarah McGlaughliun -an epidural-slow progress. Pushing for an hour. Nate’s heart rate going down. Having to talk about vacuum and c-section possibility. Finally, after so much anxiety, Nate being born and feeling relief, panic about the blood and not so small amounts of pain. After suctioning Nate was returned to me and I remember feeling uncertain. The nurses had me try to nurse immediately which I felt daunting. I felt like I had been through a war zone and my body had been battered and irrevocably changed-in ways I couldn’t have anticipated by the experience. And yet I learned from the journey-about myself and about my son.

John’s Birth Story—2 years old



I knew that things were going to be different. I wanted to rewrite the birth experience I had with Nate so I researched as much as I could about birth-a birth without interventions that would leave me feeling like I had the previous time. From reading, birth choices (this is a group that offers prenatal once a month for free), preparation and getting set with B. as our Doula, I felt like this time would be different. John’s arrival began at 2am. And within hours the contractions were hard and heavy at 2 minutes apart. We got to the hospital and continued to labour with many comfort measures. Despite some significant discouragement (and later lack of participation) from Dr. W., we had a great nurse-nAncy- as well as some ability to get in to the shower to relieve some pain. The back labour was excruciating and seemingly unending. The progress seemed slow and the day continued to drag on. I recall wanting to be done and then knowing the pain was too much. I hit a point when I wanted-begged-prayed-for it to be over. I recall calling out and being desperate for relief. I remember a nurse telling me I simply had to get through the “ring of fire” and being desperate for it all to be over. John’s eventual arrival was amazing-to see him safe and beautiful. I was on a high-and ready to run a marathon I thought. It was a recovery that took very little time and I remember elation and euphoria as I nursed and bonded with him.

Robbie's Birth Story

Robbie's birth story doesn't begin with a contraction, nor does it begin with his conception, it began several years ago when I became pregnant with our first baby. It was the summer of 2005. Dave and I were SO EXCITED to be expecting our first child. I had the usual first trimester nausea and fatigue, until one Sunday evening I went to the washroom and discovered I had started spotting. The following week was a blur of doctor's appointments, ultrasounds and tears. We heard the news we never, ever expected to hear...we had lost the baby. At 2:30am September 19th, 2005 I woke up in the guest bedroom on my inlaws house with intense cramping (we weren't living in Saskatoon at that point, but were there for work stuff). I ran to the washroom where I birthed my angel baby ('passing the pregnancy' sounds like such an awful term to me). I sat there for a few minutes, holding my baby in my hands. I sobbed until I had nothing left in me. I felt empty, I felt numb, I felt broken.



After the miscarriage Dave and I tried and tried and tried to conceive again. After seven painstaking months, we conceived again, a couple of weeks after our angel baby's due date. This time, we were terrified. I was OBSESSED with having a healthy pregnancy. I read, and worried and did everything I thought I should do in order to carry a healthy baby to term. We knew that Dave was not a 'medical' kind of guy, so hired a doula half way through my pregnancy. We prepared for the birth, but throughout that entire time, I carried this major fear that I was unable to carry a healthy baby to term. I didn't believe or trust in my body. I went to term, in fact I went over due. When I was a week overdue, I went in to labour. It wasn't the labour I had expected. I didn't trust my body, I didn't trust the process. After 3 days of labour and an epidural I finally gave birth to our beautiful boy, James. He was 10lbs 4 oz and 22 inches long and he was a very healthy baby :)



When James turned one, we decided we were ready to try for a second child. This time I knew my body was capable of growing a healthy baby, but I still lacked confidence in my body's ability to birth the way it was designed to do. From the beginning of my pregnancy I began preparing for the birth. We hired our doula again and decided to go with a midwife instead of a doctor. Throughout my pregnancy we had decided that plan 'A' would be a hospital birth, but if all was going well and we were comfortable, we would be open to a home birth. Again, my due date came and went. This baby was COMFY and NOT ready to come out. I knew this baby was going to be big. James was a big boy and there was no doubt that this one was going to be big too. We set up the birthing pool in our kitchen area so we were ready for when labour began. On Sunday, June 28th (11 days over due) I began nesting like a crazy lady! Of course, I didn't realize that I was nesting, I was just SO pissed off that this baby was still inside and needed to clean in order to get the anger out. My doula asked me if there was any doubts I was having and I told her that I didn't believe that I could do this. She told me to be positive for the rest of the day and to watch some home birth videos on YouTube. I watched them and bawled my eyes out. They were beautiful, I realized that I REALLY wanted to see my baby. I went to have my afternoon nap and woke up 2 hours later at 3:30pm feeling very rested and happy.



I got out of bed and felt like I had to go to the bathroom (I had eaten an entire watermelon the day before in an attempt to empty my bowels and stimulate labour...yes, I was DESPERATE!). I went to the bathroom and went downstairs to continue my nesting. All of a sudden I felt like I had to go to the bathroom again. I went, thinking nothing of it. Finally, after the third trip to the bathroom, I said to Dave "I think I'm having false labour again, I'm going in to the tub to see if anything happens". I grabbed a glass of water and my watch. As I sat in the bath I realized the contractions were coming every 3-4 minutes, lasting about 30-ish seconds, they weren't going away. At that point, I called my doula, she agreed that it sounded like labour and to call her when I needed her. I decided to give my midwife a call and while on the phone with her, I had a few contractions. She decided to come over immediately. Soon after talking to her, I called my doula and asked her to come over. During all of this, Dave was trying to fill the birthing pool and locate my mother-in-law to come get James (she was on the golf course, having an amazing game WITHOUT her cell phone).



My doula arrived and she helped me through a few contractions. It was obvious I was in active labour and was having a lot of trouble getting comfortable in the tub. We decided to move to the bedroom where I laboured on my hands and knees on my exercise ball. Once I moved in to the bedroom I did what I had been preparing so long for...I surrendered. I allowed my body to take over, I simply allowed it all to happen, I didn't fight it, I didn't analyze it, I just was. It was very primal, very raw, very real. It was amazing. My midwife arrived and checked the baby's heart rate, my blood pressure and checked my cervix. I was 6-7 cms with membranes bulging. She said everything was going really well, but this was the point at which we needed to decide whether to stay or go. We called Dave in (who was still trying to fill the birthing pool...he had managed to locate his mom, who had taken James to her house). After a quick discussion between contractions, we decided to stay at home. I felt SO confident in that decision. After our discussion, I went back into myself, simply allowing myself to surrender to the process. I remember at one point looking at our bedroom clock and it said "5:30pm", I thought to myself "I am going to have this baby in the next hour". At 6pm, my midwife checked me again because I had begun to bear down at the peak of my contractions. I was at 10cms with my membranes still bulging. My doula and midwife suggested that I move to the toilet to see if my membranes would rupture while I sat on the toilet. Sure enough, first contraction on the toilet, they ruptured, nice and clear! At that point I felt the ring of fire! Yup, that head was definitely there! I didn't freak out, I didn't think much about it, just continued to follow my body. I tried pushing on the floor, but felt I wasn't able to get my knees wide enough. So I climbed up on the bed and pushed while I laid on my side. At that point the secondary midwife had arrived and they were getting set up for the birth. As I was pushing I had my doula to my right, holding one leg, my primary midwife at the end of the bed, supporting my perineum and the secondary midwife cheering me on. I felt like something was missing. I said "I need Dave" (still filling the birthing pool....) so the three of them all screamed "DAVE!" and he raced in to sit on my left hand side. I recall that time stood still, an out of body experience. After 30 minutes of pushing, Robbie was born. His cord had been wrapped around his neck twice, but the midwife calmly removed it. He was placed immediately on my chest and we hung out and snuggled together. We let the cord finish pulsating and then I cut it. After delivering the placenta the midwives checked me over and told me that I had one small 'scratch' inside my vagina, no actual tears. After some bonding, they did the newborn exam. Robbie was perfect :) When they weighed him, we were all shocked. He weighed 11lbs 14oz and 23 inches long!!! The biggest baby that both midwives had ever delivered at home.



I had done it. Woke up in active labour and gave birth 3 hours later to an almost 12lb baby! I had my birth the way I had wanted it, the way I had NEEDED it. It completely changed me. It gave me confidence in myself that I never knew I had. Now I know who I am. Now I know what I'm capable of. I no longer doubt myself. I believe.

Battle for the vaginal birth

When I was 11 I was told because of my health condition I would likely never have children, unless I were to adopt. I was told this again shortly after I was married. Not a problem, we wanted to adopt anyway. When I was 21 I was late for the first time EVER so I figured, this is it, I must have uterine cancer. I went to the doctor alone because I didn’t want anyone to know yet, especially my new husband. After the doctor revealed the earth shattering news I called my husband and had him come get me. I was sure I was too much in shock to make the short walk home. I got into the car and didn’t say a word. He noticed I was pale and asked why I was there and what happened. I informed him that I was 3 weeks pregnant. He fell absolutely silent for 30 seconds, then said “We’re going to need classical music.”

In the coming months as the pregnancy progressed we were ecstatic and living in bliss with our pending arrival. We were living in a new city for my husband's schooling and had no near by friends or relatives, but we were happy. This was a very small city and they were limited medically, as well as low on prenatal classes, so we were winging it.

 I took an online birth class, and googled pain management but was truly very ignorant of all that is really involved in labour. When my husband graduated he could not find work in his field for 2 months straight. So we packed up, I left the doctor who was following the pregnancy, and moved cities. I was seven months pregnant at the time. When we got moved in we were glad to have friends and family close by again, but it took a little bit to get my prenatal care back on track. I felt like I sort of slipped through the cracks. When I got to see the doctor who was assigned to “catch” my baby he laughed out loud when I told him I wanted a drug free labour and told me “We’ll see how it goes.”

When he took my blood pressure his joking demeanour and the smile on his face quickly faded. He called a nurse in to bring a different cuff and tried again. He shook his head and rubbed his chin at the results and sent us to the hospital immediately. Upon arrival my terrified husband and I were told that I had pre-eclampsia and that the baby and I were in great danger. They would need to induce me right then. It was already evening and visiting hours were coming to an end. They forced my husband to go home, leaving me alone, and scared in the hospital. In my past I was sexually assaulted and am terrified of any kind of vaginal exam as a result. So it was hard when I had to allow a medical student to insert that tab that softens the cervix. He wrapped the string around and around put it in.. I didn’t think that was right, but thought he must know what he is doing he is a medical student, I am just a patient.

Labour progressed through the night. They strapped a fetal monitor on me. And gave me a pitocin drip. I didn’t sleep a wink. I wasn’t offered any food, but I could drink small amounts of water. My husband came back as soon as he was able and I felt better with him by my side. I relaxed a little and as I did, my contractions got stronger and more painful. I did what felt natural and was moaning through them. I was informed by an irritated nurse that I had to be quieter because this was a shared room, and I might be bothering the other women. So, completely ashamed, I stopped making noises. Hours went by and I was checked by a no non-sense nurse.

I tried to tell her I was afraid of vaginal exams but she became annoyed quickly and scolded “Stop crying!” as she forced her way in to check. Finally I was able to go into the delivery wing. There was a wonderful nurse there. She was so motherly and calming. I felt myself calm down and relax. I thought I had to have a bowel movement and went to the bathroom to try to go. The nurse recognised this and had me come out and on to the bed where I can be checked and wait for the doctor. While we waited, the wonderful nurse was off shift and another nurse came in with the same no nonsense nurse as before. She checked me much in the same manor, only this time said over her shoulder to the other nurse “This one is a crier”, then looked back to me “You are not going to cry this time are you?” and they were both laughing about it. I was too embarrassed to do anything else but laugh with them. I cried again during the check. When my doctor finally arrived he noticed in my charts that I had that insert. He decided it was time to take it out. Fine, accept he couldn’t find it, so the nurse tries, she can’t find it. A different nurse tries and also cant find it. This is sheer agony for me, and I loose track of how many people are looking for it in me, and of how long it took. I only became aware of my surroundings again when the doctor was repeating my name until he got my attention and showed me they had finally found it.

Then the doctor buzzes around the room and looks at the foetal monitor charts, and my contractions, and tells me that My baby is probably too big and I may need a c-section. I declined and he offered me an epidural, again I declined. Then he said they would break my water to help the baby drop as she was still very high up there. Once that was done they discovered there was meconium in the amniotic fluid. My doctor said they would need to do a c-section. My throat felt like it was getting too tight and it was hard to breath. I didn’t know what was happening, I just knew I DID NOT want a c-section.

 I remembered somewhere in my research reading about having a whole 24 hours to deliver a baby once waters have broken. I brought this up and my doctor reluctantly agreed “for now” and offered me an epidural before leaving. I declined then he left. I thought this would be a good time to let the night nurse know my wishes for my baby after she is born. I requested that I be allowed bonding time with my baby before the weighing, eye gouping, and cleaning. I told her I wanted to breast feed right away and for my baby never to have a bottle or formula or to be taken to the nursery. This seemed to make the nurse very irate, as if I were undermining her or something. She puffed up her chest, jutted out her jaw and gave a half laugh and said “We will take your baby to the nursery if needed and we will giver her a bottle of formula. That is what happens in the nursery” the tight feeling was back and I thought I couldn’t breathe.

The nurse went on to explain about different procedures that would prevent my wishes. She then went on to talking about how they will do a c-section if needed. The tight feeling got even worse and she called the doctor back in. He examined me and said if I wasn’t able to calm down they would need to do a c-section. My husband held my hand tightly and that was all I thought about for a moment. Just the feeling of his strong, sure hands on mine. They then offered me an epidural yet again but with the promise that it would help us all to relax. I finally agreed. They missed on the first try and tried again. They and got it. The doctor left, and my poor husband was fainting. It occurred to me he hadn’t eaten since he got there that morning, and it was coming on to 10:00pm. I sent him to get food, then passed out for a little bit. I came to when the night nurse was taking blood pressure I asked her for water, but she refused. I hadn’t eaten in over 24 hours and hadn’t had water in about 16 hours. To this day my husband and I are not sure why, but she then began to continue our discussion from before about how they would take my baby if needed and give her a bottle. I began to have trouble breathing again then my husband asserted himself, for the first time since I met him. He angrily asked the nurse why she was telling us all of this. The nurse seemed slightly taken back, then snapped “I need a smoke!” and left.

I was informed that my doctor went home for the night and a new doctor would be taking over. I waited for what seemed like forever to meet him. I went into that labour-land trance where you are pretty sure you are going to die. I don’t know how long this lasted, but the doctor finally came. He suggested a c-section. The night nurse quickly responded that my doctor thought it would be best, but I was able to focus enough to tell him no I wanted a vaginal birth. But my voice sounded so far away and lost in time. Then I remember the night doctor was looking directly in my eyes and calling my name. I focused enough to hear him. He was saying that if I was going to make it through this, I needed to look in his eyes and only there. He told me it was time to push.

I began to push. It was 2:03 in the morning. I pushed, laying on my back, in a semi sitting position with my husband holding one leg and the night nurse on the other. I pushed when they said to for as long as they said to. I was pretty sure my brain was going to explode. All I could here was the blood loudly rushing in my ears. My eyes felt as if they would burst. They announced the baby was crowning. They asked me to push harder than ever before, as I was in the middle of pushing when I felt sudden, searing hot pain and I screamed loudly. I was harshly reprimanded by the night nurse not to make noise. Then the doctor seemed to panic and said “We need to help her out!” He grabbed the forceps and without warning or asking me ripped my baby out of me. It was 2:16. She was quickly whisked away to a table in the corner while the NICU team assessed her. After lots of suctioning she cried. She was alive. She weighed 8lbs even, they reported.

 I asked my husband to go be with her as they stitched me up. When he spoke, I realized it was the first time since she was born. The NICU team informed us that when my husband spoke our daughter actually turned her head towards him. (she is still a daddy’s girl to this day) As they stitched me up, my husband brought my daughter to me, I held her in my arms and I knew that we had won the battle. In a world of doctors and nurses that said I couldn’t, I did. With the help of God and my own determination, my new family and I fought and won!