The first time I experienced labour was late Friday, October 29th. The pain caused me to toss and turn all night. Sleep refused to come no matter how hard I tried. The child’s father stayed up with me all night massaging my back, bringing me cold washcloths, getting me drinks and anything else I needed.
After a rough night, I fell asleep around seven am. At noon, I got back up to attend a shopping trip in London with my older sister. We discussed the pain but I went thinking they were Braxton hicks contractions that would pass. We lived in Woodstock, and the drive was unpleasant.
The pain continued throughout the day. At times, I had to lean against the shopping cart to stay on my feet. Sometimes I felt like passing out because I was so hot and other times I felt like my fingers might fall off I was so cold. Unable to eat I experienced extreme thirst and used the restroom every half hour.
I got through the shopping trip and had the most uncomfortable ride home ever. When we arrived back in Woodstock Saturday night, it was around six. Afterwards, we went right to visit my younger cousin. It was her birthday party, so my house seemed very crowded.
The pain caused me only to stay long enough to see her cut the cake, and then I retreated to my bedroom. My sister came with me and together we called the hospital and explained the situation. The nurse told me to have a cool bath, and if the problems became worse, to go the hospital.
After talking to the nurse, I went to my sister’s house to bathe because it would be quieter. After sitting in the bath for less than five minutes, I had to get out. The pain became ten times worse, and I physically could not sit any longer. My sister gave me pajamas, and we left for the hospital.
When I arrived at the hospital around 830pm, the nurse took me right in for an internal exam. My father went to find the father of my child. The nurse said I was fully dilated and ready to go. The nurse also told me I would have a c-section, but I would have to wait for a team from London.
I was 34 weeks into the pregnancy. Because of how early it was the baby wasn’t in position or ready for delivery. The nurse moved me into a birthing room. My sister stayed with me the whole time. The nurses started an intravenous, and I had all the routine tests done.
Half an hour later the nurse took me to another room for the c-section. After this move, the doctor refused to let anyone with me. The anesthesiologist gave me an epidural and another pain medicine while the nurse tracked down the London team. The nurse found they were in Strathroy.
After this, the father of my child arrived. Roughly every half hour someone would tell me the team was on their way, and would be no longer than 45 minutes. Overall I waited for five hours for the team to show up to the hospital. While I waited, I was uncomfortable, scared and alone.
The doctor had me stretched out on the bed and numbed everywhere under the chest. The team had my arms strapped out to the sides making me unable to move. Though the morphine helped the pain, it caused my face to itch. I was cold and thirsty, and I still had an uncontrollable urge to push.
On top of all this, the doctor refused to allow the baby’s father or anyone else into the room. Though I saw them through the doorway, I could not touch or talk to them. This decision left me full of fear and worry. The room was full of nurses and doctor, and I lost track of them as they buzzed around me.
When the team arrived, they hung huge blankets up above my chest to prevent me from seeing them as they worked. The team then began my c-section. I could not watch what they were doing but experienced a tremendous pain even though I seemed numb.
The anesthesiologist gave me more pain medicine and stayed by my side during the delivery. After more than 30 hours of labour at 2:10 am on Sunday, October 31st I gave birth to a beautiful baby boy. Because of the time change he was technically born at 1:10 am. The father and I had decided on the name Zackary.
I could not see or hold him after his birth because it was an emergency c-section, and he was transported at once to a London hospital. The only glimpse I got of him was as they pushed him down the hallway. For the first eleven hours of his life, all I knew of him was him name and sex.
After they had finished stitching and stapling me up, I was taken to a recovery room and put to sleep. I had 13 staples and several stitches. I still had my intravenous in and could not walk or move for several hours. The sleep was awful. I desperately wanted to join my baby.
I woke up around lunchtime that day and begged the doctor to let me go to London and join my son. After a while, he relented and released me. I drove with my sister to the London hospital. I was admitted there and finally got to see my son for the first time, over twelve hours after he was born.
Thank you so much for taking the time out of your undoubtedly busy day to read this!