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MAMA-KANGAROO 494
Labor No.1 May 5, 1998. Monday, 3:30PM At seven o’clock in the morning, I had my second scheduled amnio. To my knowledge, this no longer standard procedure consists of extracting the amniotic fluid with an enormous needle so that the baby’s progress could be determined if the baby should stay inside any longer. So, my gynecologist performed this intervention on Friday, May 8 only to schedule me for yet another one, for the following Monday, in the case that nothing should happen. The amniocentesis is not painful, but a bit uncomfortable procedure. When I returned home from the hospital, around 8:00 A.M., I wanted to go to sleep since the previous night I ran to the bathroom every fifteen minutes. I started getting ready for bed, when I felt that something warm was sliding down my legs. At first, I thought that my water broke and, of course, I phoned my friend who had her baby a month earlier. My friend, who sounded concerned, told me to rush to the hospital because “it started.” And so, my former husband and I, hit the road to the hospital, again. In the hospital, nobody thought my case was urgent (as we learned later, it wasn’t serious). The doctor was looking at me in surprise, he examined me, and he told the midwife to call him back after they admit me into the maternity word and prepare me for the labor. In the meantime, I felt fine without any pain. And so they prepared me (shaving the pubic hair, enema, having the patient put on the nighty on a naked body were considered as the standard preparation procedures). Since it was Monday, and the clean garments weren’t back from washing, I had to put some green, surgical overcoat so big that it dragged across the floor when I walked. Nothing, but the labor, concerned me at that time. Personal belongings, except the personal hygiene stuff, weren’t allowed in the maternity ward. The visitors could bring tetra-packed juices and give it to the midwives who should later give it to the patients. I was brought to the operating room, my gynecologist hooked me to the machine for induction, actually infusion which contained the medication for speeding up the delivery. I felt no pain and I was 2 cm dilated. I remembered it was nine thirty. From my bed sight I could see the big clock on the wall although I was nearsighted (I wear contact lenses, but than I had my glasses on). I don’t remember when my contractions started, gradually. It became intense. Of course, I tried to be calm, quiet and I could withstand pain. The doctor who periodically came to check on me didn’t give me an input on the labor progress, although I kept on asking him. After a few hours, they determined that the infusion was flowing too fast, and that my contractions were much more forceful than expected for the stage of labor I was in. The pain from contractions wasn’t proportional to the process of dilation which was going on fine. At one moment, the doctor commented about me not being elastic “down there.”And it scared me. The hours went by...I remember how angry I was, and I quietly cursed everything and everybody around me. Nobody could hear me. I had to lay on my back the entire time. I couldn’t change the position because of the infusion and I wasn’t allowed to move. Getting up was unimaginable. The staff was changing shifts and only one midwife stayed behind. My brother who worked in Uzice at the time, frequently called to inform about me, and I could hear the nurse telling him first to call at two, and than at three. Then, my real contraction finally started around 3 PM. The midwife called my doctor and they set my legs in the most uncomfortable position. I believe that the woman should found out the best possible position to deliver her baby and not to be forced to stay on her back with one leg tied to the similar stand to the one on the gynecological bed, and the other free, placed on the doctor’s hip so I could push better. Oh, my god! I did as I was told, everything went as it should, but I didn’t feel the contraction. The doctor and the midwife didn’t believe me at first, and than the doctor said that it’s natural to stop. He suggested that they should give me something, I didn’t know what. Then the action started again and the doctor did episiotomy and my skin crackled between the scissors' cuts. I felt no pain. And, after a few moments the baby simply slid out. It was my son who didn’t cry. Than, the doctor did something, I couldn’t tell what, the baby cried. They told me 3400gr 55cm and they took him away. I was very tired and confused and I knew that, sadly, no one could see the baby before the first breast feeding.. In the meantime my placenta came out and they gave me a total anesthesia so they could clean and stitch me. I have to admit that only some women who payed for it, had this treatment. I was against it during the labor, but my mother was adamant about it since she worried about her daughter. I saw my baby as late as 9PM. The feeding time was every four hours, and I was expecting my baby at 5PM wondering if something was wrong with him. In the meantime the neonatal nurse came to let me know about the baby’s status. That was the worse part. During the labor, the baby didn’t have enough air, and since he spent longer time stuck in a birth canal, he developed an already diminishing swelling without any neurological changes. I felt relieved although the neonatal nurse thought that it was strange. I understood what she was talking about since I studied it at school. I asked more questions and I learned that the doctors were to perform an intervention the next day, so they could reduce the pressure on brain. They brought
him at 9PM. He was beautiful with perfect little fingers, perfect head. I
still remember when we first saw each other. I didn’t see anything abnormal
on his head. My son didn’t have much hair and the scull was visible. I fed
him and the doctors were forgotten. Labor No.2 March 3, 2003. Sunday 8:05 and 8:10. My second pregnancy was monitored by the gynecologist who doesn’t work in the hospital, but has a private practice instead. It meant that when my time for labor comes, I will not have my own doctor. Of course, my doctor has colleagues, but, well... Although my due date was January 1, it was clear that I would give birth earlier. When the woman is caring twins, everything over 36 weeks is OK. Well, during the 35th week I had to go to the hospital. My legs were swollen, I had cervical cerclage and my doctor thought that I should be under constant observation. I was prepared and two days after my husband’s birthday, I went to the hospital. I was admitted by the woman doctor, who was my doctor’s associate. She immediately undid the cerclage in a not so gentle manner. This time the situation in the hospital was somewhat different from before: only the doctors who were on duty could assist with the labor. At that time, fathers presence during the labor was encouraged ( it is no longer the case). The maternity ward supported the Baby Friendly Program which made me very happy. The mothers could see their babies and breastfeed them as soon as they were born, unless there was a specific problem with the baby. It was necessary to bring to the hospital some personal stuff such as towels, nightgowns and other things which were not permitted five years ago. I do not wish
to describe the gloomy gynecology ward. The beds were very uncomfortable
with soft bad quality mattresses with strange coils. I could hardly get up
from such a bed. My contraction became stronger by the minute and lasted the whole night long. This time, I was allowed to walk freely. And I walked along the hallway to ease the pain. Then, around three in the morning, the doctor who admitted me to the hospital, started her shift and when she saw me wondered what I was doing. I explained and told her when my due time was. Since my due day was January first, and that night was only December 7, she told me to go back to sleep reassuring me that there is nothing wrong with me. Then she told me: “Go to sleep! You don’t look like someone in pain.” When I commented that I was expecting twins, she only sad: “The twins also have right to be born on time.” The medical staff just returned from the surgery which save the lives of the baby and her mother who was actually a nurse in that hospital. That was the third C-section that day and the doctor didn’t need yet another one along with the patient who wasn’t her client and who was having twins. Ok, I thought I could survive until the next day. There was not a chance that I could fall asleep. I was writing down some instruction for my husband knowing that my labor was about to start. When the nurse on duty got up at six that morning, and I told her what’s going on, she hooked me to the CTG and commented something like:” Oh, yeah, it’s a labor!” She alarmed the doctor who had quickly examined me and urgently sent me to the operating room. Since I was 8cm dilated already, they brought me to the operating room. I was unaware of the time passing. As soon as they placed me on the labor bed, my husband came to the operating room with the mask and everything. He really looked handsome. Then the doctor who was on duty came along with the two midwives who assisted me during the labor. They were wonderful. They instructed me what and how to do, encouraging me all the way through. Everything seemed so much more pleasant than before. The doctor pierced my amnion and the midwives did the rest. My husband held my hand and directed me according to the movie on labor, we saw before. His presence was reassuring. I knew that he would oversee my eventual transportation to Belgrade had it been necessary to do so. I simply felt safe. And after a few contractions, I gave birth to my first twin. He was quiet at first just like my first son. I wondered why he didn’t cry, and when he finally started, it was weak. The doctor told me that it was excellent. He weighed 2250gr and was 49cm long. The doctors wanted to know if baby had a name and he told the midwife that the rest was up to her. And, to my surprise, the doctor had to brake my water again for the second twin. After just a few contraction, I gave birth to my third son. He cried immediately and they gave him to me so I could kiss him. He was heavier and bigger than his twin brother, 2800gr and 50cm. This time, there was no need for episiotomy except for the few snitches. Although I was given only local anesthesia, I felt fine. The neonatologist was the same one as before and she gave me the same information on the kids. I wasn’t worried since I became one seasoned mom. By two in the afternoon, my family came to see the babies. The older brother was to kiss the babies’ little heads. He was excited. The older twin who didn’t cry when he was born, proved to be stronger and I was given a permission to keep him with me. The crib was next to my bed along with the changing table and everything that was necessary. We brought Pampers, baby creams and so on....Almost like at home. It was so much different than the last time I was in the hospital. Around me, mothers walked with their babies. The paper clippings, baby pictures, some personal messages decorated the walls. Such a friendly atmosphere that change the space around me. My younger twin still had a trace of jaundice, and had to stay under special light, the nurses had taken me to see him. The doctor who couldn’t believe that I had contraction during the night of labor, thought that I didn’t look as if I had any pain. She apologized to me every time she saw me for not believing me. I accepted her
apology although I wondered if she would have preferred that I screamed. I think that having a psychologist on staff during the post-labor period would also be useful. There should be some kind of a counseling office for the pregnant women and for those who might have difficulties during the post-labor period. The big changes occur after the baby is born, specially after the first pregnancy. I might think like this since I am a psychologist. I’d like to hear if someone has other suggestions. And, as I know, the presence of the father in the labor room is no longer encouraged and the baby friendly program doesn’t function any more in my city. I wonder if
the little pictures on the walls are still there.
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STORIES FROM MATERNITY WARDS Mama-Kangaroo 002
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