My Birthing Tale
Yes, you read that right. This is one experience that I want to document whether anyone gives it a read or not.
I had mentioned reading about many horrid birthing stories in my last post. Needless to say, I was petrified. Subsequently, my bubble, made up of magical moments at the arrival of my baby, burst. Instead I had images of blood, gore, pain, stitches (the absolute worst) forming in my mind.
I was also frequently breaking into sudden emotional outbursts, where my mother would try her best to pacify her annoying daughter who was overthinking and making a mountain out of a molehill (ya, I’m dramatic that way). For instance, I was called by my doctor to get a routine checkup done on one Wednesday, during the last stages of pregnancy. I recall being both excited and scared that day. Excited to hear my baby’s heartbeat and scared because of my gynac’s peculiar intrigue in making sure if God has given me perfectly functioning internal organs. Since these visits always involved lots of pain, crying and teeth-clenching drama, she would constantly ask my mum to explain to me to let loose of my privates (yes, ‘let loose’ is the precise term she used)
Now, on one such check-up routines, my gynac informed me that I have dilated 3 cms, which clearly meant that I was partially ready for the war. I was shaken because I had made wonderful plans of M coming to Pune the following week and already had an exciting list arranged of all the places we would be visiting and prolonging my guiltless binge! But my dreams didn’t last long. The doctor declared that I would be delivering a baby in less than 24 hours!
(Oh wait, don’t judge. My maternal love was still intact and I was still anticipating my baby’s arrival. But hey, this was about a pregnant lady’s food cravings and ain’t nobody messing with that!)
So, mum advised me to satiate all my pregnancy cravings because, if left unfulfilled, the kid is said to drool excessively. So I took her advise 🙂
Anyway, not veering off the story, after the doc’s announcement, I returned home with swollen eyes and feeling terrified. I waited for something or anything to happen but my baby was in no mood to face the world yet.
Later in the day, I did experience a terrible pain in my back which I attributed to my usual pregnancy aches. When I called the doctor the next day, informing her about the sharp back pain and minor bleeding, she suggested I stay home and keep her updated about the progress.
The pain left me immobile for good 24 hours. The following day was Friday when the doc asked me to come visit her.
Pregnancy had, by far, taken a toll on me now that I was in my 38th week. And I wished to uplift my mood by dolling up (Is there anything that makeup can’t solve?). So, I wore my favourite maxi dress, looking pretty and was ready to leave for my checkup. However, reality sunk in when I was waiting for my turn to meet the doc. Inadvertently, I burst into tears causing my mum and brother to become surprised.
A while later, the doc called us and examined me, again making sure if my internal organs were functioning fine. They were, Alhamdulillah. I wonder if there’s anything more painful than those two minutes. Oh yes, there is! It’s called LABOUR!
After examining, she looked concerned and asked me if I was sure nothing else was happening to me. She realised I was already in labour and had dilated 5 cms.
Hearing this, my unstoppable tears made a return. Without giving me a minute to let that fact sink in she asked my mum to get me admitted immediately. She then called for a wheelchair so that I, the now- feeling-stunned pregnant lady, could be vehiculated to the labour room.
Within 10 minutes I was made to switch from a glam maxi dress to a lousily fitted gown that had openings every 2cm apart on it (I mean, seriously, are two-year-olds from a Montessori stitching them?!). I was prepped up for the pre-labour. Pain had to be induced to fasten up the process and I was served a watery/soupy form of dal chawal (the nurse expected me to finish it all). I’m not a fussy eater but come on, I need leverage here!(You guys screw up my oh-so-exciting binge plans and you serve me this?!) Well, now, let me not set a bad example for my baby that her mum was a fussy and picky eater (I’m assuming she’ll read this one day to know the hardships I went through)
Ensuing all the preps and terrible food choices, I was now under observation to monitor the baby’s heartbeats and the interval between each contractions.
Discomfort seeped in within 30 minutes of lying on my back that gave me terrible spasms. I started squalling in pain like a two-year-old howling with fear during their periodic vaccinations.
Amidst all this unpleasantness, one of the nurses had the nerve to offer me juice! Yes, right, she is doing her job but assuming that she must have given birth too, I expected her to realize that I didn’t need to quench my thirst but to just get the freaking baby out!
Eventually, after 5 hours of my intense dilemma, the mid-wives decided that I had reached the zenith of pain and that it was time they showed mercy on me and informed the doctor about my status.
By then, I had dilated to 7.5 cms. Remorsefully for me, my doctor was still in no mood to storm into the labour room like how they show in movies. Instead, she took another hour to arrive! Until then I had to keep struggling with the contractions.
Finally, when she did come to my rescue, she stormed in and instructed me to use the pushing technique. It took me just three but strenuous pushes to deliver the baby successfully. I was happy that all those breathing exercises I casually took at my boredom-killing yoga classes, helped!
Trust me when I say that there is nothing that can describe those nanoseconds when the baby pops out. It’s like… Oh chuck, it I’m not even trying.
Thereafter all the toilsome work I did, I was expecting a tiny round of applause from the audience that was present in the labour room with me. But, as I understand, for them it’s a casual event of seeing people in excruciating pain who screech on top of their voices. We desis are so prepossessed by movies. I was led to believe that they would get my baby to me and I’d spend a little magical moment with it while I know its gender.
But the paediatrics had to do what they had to while my beloved doctor was busy discussing her past internship days with her current interns and was engrossed in wrapping up my case (now that’s a delicate way of putting things. *Rolls eyes*)
I kept asking the freaking gender of my baby when finally she decided to kill my curiosity of whether I’m gonna be tying ponytails or chasing around an overactive little boy.
She announced that it was a girl and my happiness knew no bounds since M and I were both expecting a beautiful baby girl.
Until next time