In September of 1999, I was 17 years old. I was young, and I didn't care about anything. In August, I had started seeing someone. Four weeks later, he broke up with me. I'd never kept up with my periods, so I didn't know when I was supposed to get the next one. All I knew was that I had been over a week late the cycle before. I assumed I was just late again.
At 21 days after I'd expected my period, I took a pregnancy test, two pink lines showed up immediately. My ex-boyfriend was getting ready to move 8 hours away, but I knew I had to tell him somehow. After he found out, he was super excited. Then he left and didn't call me or anything, since he'd chosen to believe rumors from a girl that was supposed to be my best friend.
Fast forward to May 15, my due date. I'm now 18.
I had a normal pregnancy, no complications, no morning sickness ever, just some heartburn here and there. I did every single thing my OB told me to do, took every test she wanted me to take. I went in to my scheduled appointment Tuesday. If I hadn't begun labor by Saturday, she wanted to run a NST.
On Thursday, my mom and I went to eat Chinese food around 4 p.m. On the way there, I got this horrible pain down there, and practically had to stand up in the car. About 30 minutes later, the same thing happened again while we were eating. Around 9:30 p.m., I felt my first contraction. Boy, was I excited!
I was talking to a friend online, who had a 2 year old son. I didn't want to wake my parents, because I knew they'd be in a panic. So I took a shower. I still wasn't in any pain.
Around midnight my friend and her boyfriend came to my house. She suggested that I take a walk. So we walked up and down the road until 5:30 am. Around 1, they started to hurt. I squatted in the middle of the road through each contraction. I'm glad I lived in a small town where no one drives at night!
My mom woke up to get ready for work at 5:30. I went inside, and told her that I didn't think she wanted to go to work today, because I was in labor. She woke my dad, started calling everyone, and my contractions got worse. I'm now moaning and groaning just to make it through them.
We arrive at the hospital at 6. When I get settled in, someone comes in to check me. They told me I was only dilated to about a fingertip, barely even 1. I'm lying on my back, strapped with a monitor, hungry, thirsty, and in pain. I have my mom, dad, grandmother, cousin, aunt, and my two friends in the room with me.
A few hours later, they allowed me to walk for about 30 minutes. I'm checked again at about 10:30 am. Two centimeters. So they decided to give me a shot of Stadol and send me home.
I don't even remember the ride home. They told me to eat something very light, so my mom made me a grilled cheese while I took a bath. I fell asleep in the tub, but I still felt the pain of every contraction. I try to sleep until 3. I wanted to walk. My aunt was a bus driver, whose route when by our house. On our walk, she drove by and talked to us to see how I was doing.
Back to the hospital we go, arriving at 7. I remember Drew Carey being on TV in the waiting room. I get settled in. They give me an IV. They check me, roughly. I thought I was having another contraction, but what I was feeling was some strangers hand abusing my insides. I'm hooked up to monitors and given Stadol. I can't move. It hurts so bad. I just want it to stop. Contractions so bad, that I involuntarily yell with each one. I couldn't tell you how many times or how many different nurses came in and told me to be quiet, that it wasn't as bad as I was making it out to be. And of course, the rebel that I thought I was, I started to yell louder through each one.
I finally get to talk to my doctor for the first time since I'd been in labor, 26 hours. After having two more doses of Stadol, things got fuzzy. I didn't like it. It didn't help my pain, and it didn't help me relax. After being abused again, I'm at 4 centimeters. All that pain, and I feel like I've gotten nowhere. Around 2 am, they informed me that they had called the anesthesiologist to bring me an epidural. He got there at 3 am. My contractions were so painful I don't even remember feeling the needle going into my spine very much. Just some pressure. Then they put in a catheter. My doctor comes in, and breaks my water. I finally felt better. My contractions didn't hurt anymore, and neither did my insides from being checked so often and so roughly.
While I was sleeping, they came in and gave me Pitocin. Without me knowing, without my consent. I would have never known until my mom told me the next day. Were they just going to give me drugs without asking me first? Who knows if they gave me anything else? I wake up at 6 am to my doctor coming in. She checks me. 10 centimeters! I felt horrible pressure, my epidural was wearing off.
I wanted to push so bad, but no one would let me. I started to, and 5 people were yelling at me to stop doing that. I told them I wasn't doing anything. They informed me that I will not push until they give me the OK. My body was pushing on its own. I had no control, but I had to control it, because the nurses were making me feel like I was about 2 inches tall. I thought, I must be just another unwed teenager having a baby to them. I felt like no one cared. I then had an emotional breakdown and started bawling. I couldn't do it. I couldn't have this baby. I was too tired, I was too scared, I didn't know what to do. After being ignored by everyone but my mom, she was shoved to the side of the bed, they grabbed my legs, stuffed my feet in the stirrups, and told me to start pushing. How? I didn't know how to push. I didn't know if I was doing it right.
During one push, I felt my baby move. At that very moment, I told myself "OK, Christi, you have to push like that every time." After pushing for about 20 minutes, my doctor says "OK, we're going to have to do a small episiotomy." I begged her not to. I told her no. The next thing I did was let out a scream of pain where my doctor started to cut. Her exact words were "Oops, you weren't supposed to feel that" then gave a little chuckle.
Moments later, my daughter was born at 7:13 am. 33 and a half hours after I went into labor. 6 lbs 1.2 oz, and 20 inches long. They lay her on me. I looked at her for about 5 seconds before they took her away. I was asked to cut her cord. I did.
The next thing I remember is waking up 4 hours later asking where my child was. They brought her in a few minutes later, with a mitten over her hand. They told me they had to put an IV in her because she tested positive for Group B Strep. Something I had never heard of. They told me that we'd be there for three days, so she could get antibiotics. I had some trouble breastfeeding her at first, the nurses and the lactation consultant were no help at all.
Each day we were there, it was so hard to see them take her away from me so they could give her the antibiotic treatment. We got to go home Tuesday. I breastfed exclusively for two weeks. I started thinking she wasn't getting full enough from my milk, so I started using formula. I did both until she was 6 weeks, then I just gave up breastfeeding.
