Labor & Delivery memories

Labor and delivery for my son was traumatic. Scary. Awful. My husband wasn't there. I delivered him in a strange city, and I didn't know whether he was going to live. I had no idea whether I'd get a take-home baby out of the ordeal. I was diagnosed with PTSD following my son's birth, which is hardly surprising. I've been seeing a counselor for it, which has really helped. There are still lingering things, though, which is a big reason I've restarted this blog. I need a place to get my thoughts down.

One of the things that happened during the L&D experience is that I blocked out a lot of unpleasant memories. It wasn't until much later that many of them came back, and they often came back for random reasons. For example:

- I'd forgotten that I got oxygen during labor. The OB was concerned about my son's heart rate. I remember they were having trouble finding it, but I think that was because of his position and small size. I guess his heart rate must have been decelerating, because they gave me oxygen.

- The expression on the OB's face will always stick with me. She just felt so SAD for me. I can remember that. She said to me early on, "At 4cm dilated with a bulging bag of waters, you may not have this baby now. You'll be on bedrest for a long time, though." That obviously turned out not to happen. But I could tell that she just felt awful for me.

- I hadn't taken any birth classes yet, but I had read at one point that pushing was supposed to feel like going to the bathroom. When they told me I needed to get my baby out quickly, that thought came back to me, and he came out with only a few pushes.

- I will never forget thinking, "they're letting me hold my baby in case he dies." I knew that was why they gave him to me. I remember how warm he felt. And so tiny. So so tiny. And I remember thinking, "Why are we wasting time letting me hold him? He needs to be put in an incubator! I'm just being selfish holding him now!"

- I got a big bag of IV fluid after delivery. This memory just came back to me a couple of days ago when I started thinking about how many interventions I'd had during delivery. My OB broke my water and I had an episiotomy. I didn't have any pain medicine, though. Logically, I'm happy with the birth, given the circumstances. Even in the trauma of everything, I never felt pressured for anything. My son needed to be born quickly, given his small size. That was all explained to me. I consented to having my water broken and again to the episiotomy. Even my views on pain medication were respected, which is pretty remarkable given that I gave birth in a hospital I'd never been to with an OB I'd never met.

- I got pitocin following the birth of my son (but not during the birth). I may have been bleeding a lot, and that's why they gave it to me. I don't really remember, though. I remember the contractions with the pitocin after my son's birth were significantly more uncomfortable than the ones during labor. Weird, eh?

- I have no recollection of anything that happened after the first few minutes of my son's life. I remember they got him intubated on a warming bed, and I can still see the vision of the neonatologist working frantically on him. And I can remember the bed beeping. A long steady tone - like the kind you see on TV when someone dies and their heart monitor just shows that steady line. After the first few minutes of watching the doctor work on my son, I don't remember anything else until much later. I was in the recovery room the next time I have memories. I have no idea how I got there.

- I remember how alone I felt in the recovery room. I wanted someone to come in and talk to me. There was a nurse named Rachel (ironic, eh) who kept coming in to talk to me. I wanted her to stay the whole time, but she obviously couldn't. I just didn't want to be alone.

- I asked for a breast pump right away, and, at the time, I was proud of myself for having the foresight to ask for one. I felt so clumsy with it, though - I had no idea what I was doing. The nurse helped me, and I thought she was a bit condescending about it. Not necessarily mean, but she couldn't figure out how I couldn't figure out how to use the pump. It made me want to cry. I remember how happy the nurse was that I got colostrum the first time I pumped. I was surprised that she was surprised. It wasn't until much later that I learned that many many preemie moms have major issues with milk supply / pumping, etc.

- I walked from the recovery room to the NICU where my son was being stabilized (he was going to be transfered, but I got to see him before he left). Everyone kept asking if I wanted a wheelchair. I was genuinely confused as to why. What was supposed to hurt? I didn't hurt anywhere. Was it adrenaline? Maybe.

- The neonatologist who was there for my son's birth came and saw me a few hours later. She told me everything that was going on, and I said to her, "I have a friend who lost a 24 weeker after 8 days. I know I can expect a honeymoon period where everything goes well for a few days, and then things may start to go south." I was so pragmatic about it, but what other choice did I have?

I'm sure more memories will come to me, but that exhausts them for now. It's so hard going back to that time, but I feel like I need to. I'm still not right in the head, and I don't know if I ever will be. Going through the memories helps me to process things, though...