I found out I was pregnant with my first the day before my eighteenth birthday. I was just starting my senior year in high school and I had been living with my boyfriend. I had gone into the doctor for some test results and found out I was pregnant. I came home and told my mom who was thrilled! I really didn’t have any of the normal morning sickness and stuff during pregnancy. But at twenty-two weeks while sitting in class I started having pain in my stomach. I kinda ignored it at first. Then the fire drill went off and as I got up from my desk I couldn’t move. They called the nurse and took me down to the clinic. The nurse insisted that I was about to give birth in her clinic and instead of waiting for my dad to get there they called an ambulance.
In the hospital they determined I was in labor and they gave my medication to stop the labor. For the rest of my pregnancy I was on strict bed rest and was in the hospital once a week trying to stop labor. My due date was December twenty-seventh, but in November my doctor decided to take me off the meds and let me have the baby. She felt that the baby would be better off being born then than keeping me on the drugs. So I didn’t take my next dose and waited for the labor to begin. I waited and waited and waited ... THEN on December twenty-fourth at 6 a.m. I woke up with a contraction. I was living with my mom at the time due to the bed rest and my husband having to travel for work. I came down stairs and told her I was in labor.
Her reaction, “not today! We have too much to do to get ready for Christmas.” SO not believing me she left to go across town to get my grandmother and left me with my fifteen year old sister alone. At about 4 p.m. I knew I needed to get to the hospital. After arriving they gave me potocin. I had no other drugs. I wanted a drug free delivery. I really slept through most of labor. I awoke and told my mom I had to push. The nurse said I wasn’t ready because she had just checked me and I was seven centimeters. I begged her to check and she found that not only was I ten centimeters, the baby was crowning. The doctor barely had time to put on his gown and she popped out. I was so overjoyed at seeing her feet pop up from over the “curtain” draped over my legs and the sound of her first cry. All I could do was cry and say over and over again “Oh my God!” The nurse whisked her over to the warmer and started cleaning her up. Other than seeing her feet and hearing her cry was the first and only glimpse I had of my daughter for the first thirty minutes of her life. The nurse finally wrapped her up and placed her into my arms stating that I only had five minutes before she had to take her to the nursery. I was heart broken but I never spoke up.
After the nurse took her to the nursery it was another four hours before I got to hold her again. So at midnight I was finally getting to bond with my daughter and nurse her for the first time. This continued the whole time I was in the hospital. They would take her away to the nursery for hrs at a time. After I was home I decided that I did not like my birthing experience and the coldness of the hospital. I did my research for the next year and realized I had certain rights as a patient. So I decided that next time would be different.
