So you could just chill and then when the urge came over you, push? I also remember TV deliveries yelling at the chick to stop pushing, even if she felt like it.
My doctor was late to the hospital when I was having Chris. I had no pain management for his birth. The nurses were yelling at me not to push. I said I had to, and asked why. They said they had to wait for the doctor. Eventually, I said something along the lines of, "This is a hospital, isn't it? Go out in the hallway and get another doctor." They did, but then the OB (also not my regular) showed up.
Julia's induced birth was the smoothest, except for the epidural that only numbed my right thigh, and the only one at which my regular OB attended.
She always turns it into a guilt trip.
I was a 9 lb. twin. Sometimes I think Mom still carries a grudge.
I was a 9 lb. twin. Sometimes I think Mom still carries a grudge.
My reaction to hearing about my birth has always been laughter. If M was trying to guilt me out, I'd have to say it went over my head.
It wasn't that long ago (I keep typing ages, and wondering if we've both had e-mail that long...) that my mother sent me a rambly note saying "I'm not sure why I'm up this early this morning, but maybe it's because xx years ago I was just finishing 36 hours of painful labour. Anyway, happy birthday."
She's a doll, me mam.
My brain goes graphic places with that much detail and I just don't need graphic images involving my friends.
I get the "ruined favorite pair of moccasins" trip. But then, I was a c-section baby and she was pretty much knocked out. My brother gets the "electrocuted by the call button" trip.
I don't care if it was 36 fucking hours. I was free, dammit, and how many babies get that sort of a discount?
Endorphins aren't going to get in the way of my mother negotiating with the people that damaged her merchandise on delivery.
They did the same thing with my sister, different hospital, different country--cut her head with the forceps too. She was only half price.
The only weird thing about my birth (that I know of) is that I refused to breath for a bit.
ION, Photography primer that's great for hobbyists getting more serious
I hope everyone is eagerly awaiting Dancing with the Stars (like me).
My sister and I were forceps babies. Never asked my mother exactly why.
My brother was a forceps baby (he was... oh, there's a term for the type of breech he was. He presented with his shoulder, apparently) and it didn't work. They had to stuff him back in and do an emergency C-section. Apparently he had this huge black eye when he was an newborn, and now that Mom can see the humor in that she's sorry she immediately threw away those pictures...
I had to help my dad once with a cow/calf breach birth. It involved tying a rope to the calf's hooves and pulling.
It's childhood stuff like this that made me decide to never be a doctor.
