Birthing Story #2 - Lacey Rebecca Jones

(*graphic warning)  31 years ago right now, I was lying on my bed watching the clock.  I couldn't sleep...the contractions were sporadic but definitely occurring quite frequently.  Mickey and I had been playing PacMan earlier that evening when I was stunned by a shooting pain across my abdomen.  I was three weeks away from my baby's due date, so it came very unexpectedly.  I threw myself on the bed and began to roll around like a wounded animal.  Mickey was wide-eyed and didn't quite know what to think.  I told him to call my doctor in Newport and tell him that I was not coming there and that I was going to the hospital in Batesville which happened to be right across the street from where we lived.  I didn't think I could make it there.  I had not had a good birthing experience the first time having had a gall bladder attack the day before, and I fully expected everything to go like clock work this time - not what I was then experiencing.  He called my doctor - the one I had chosen because of his good reputation as an excellent and caring physician.  He had seen me through some tough months of my pregnancy including a cancer scare and shingles.  He calmly assured Mickey that the baby's head was just moving into place and told him to bring me to Newport if my contractions became consistent and closer together.  Mickey passed on that assurance but called my sister to come and get Kelly to spend the night - "just in case".  So, there I was - clock watching.  The next morning, I was still feeling strange but Mickey, who worked in Newport, went on to work.  I got ready to go to Newport later that morning for my regularly scheduled appointment with the doctor.  Soon it became clear that I should probably call someone to take me on over to the hospital as my contractions leveled and became more consistent.  I called my mother and told her that I needed a ride.  This is what I said to her..."I think I'm really in labor and I need to go to Newport to the hospital, but I am not riding with you.  Would you call Dad?"  Mickey's mother was at the beauty shop and in those days, without cell phones, you couldn't get a woman out from under the hairdryer for anything!  Dad and Mom came to get me.  As I got into the car, a contraction began.  I started my breathing for some relief and looked at my watch.  As the next one began, my dad looked in the rear view mirror and asked me how far apart they were.  "Oh, five minutes...", I said.  He looked shocked and I felt the car speed up a little.  We arrived at the hospital and everyone there was calm.  They took me into an examination room and confirmed that I was indeed, in labor.  Mickey met us at the hospital and we began the wait.  It was about 11:00 or so in the morning by that time.  I was definitely feeling my labor pains by then.  We would talk some and I was falling asleep in between.  I was so tired from the night before.  After 2:00 pm I felt a gush and thought my water had broken - a very normal procedure in the course of child birth.  I don't mean to be relating too much information here, but to my surprise when the nurse came to check, what she found was not water at all, it was blood - and a lot of it.  She threw a sheet over me and in an elevated, panicky-type voice started moving my gurney.  She looked at Mickey and said, "The scrubs are in there.  I don't have time to mess with you now."  We were moving but I didn't know why.  I just thought it was time.  She wheeled me into the delivery room and a flurry of activity began.  My doctor came running in and told me to push.  I did.  He then leaned over me and said, "Little Pet, you have to push this baby out this time.  It is in trouble."  I knew what must be done.  I pushed with all my might and with every fiber of my being, letting out the most hair raising scream that could be heard all over the hospital, I'm sure, and not caring at that moment what it must have looked like or sounded like.  My poor Dad and Mom were just out in the hall and later told me how horrible it was for them.  But I did it.  She was born and I heard the doctor ask if she had footprints and finger prints.  They laid her on my tummy and I got my first look at this tiny 6 lb and 7 oz, three week early baby girl.  She was covered with that waxy white film and with blood.  She was gurgling and making a coughing sound.  She was grey.  She was ugly and I said so.  "She is so ugly, ' were my first words about this precious life who had been born under trauma and survived.  We found out later that the placenta had actually torn the night before when I had felt that huge pain.  She had been drowning for 12 hours.  Oh, how good my God is.  He wanted her to be on this earth.  She shouldn't have made it.  I shouldn't have made it.  I never felt fear because I was protected by my ignorance of the situation.  As I settled in my bed, sitting on the most amazing tea bag treatment, I called the nurse and said, "Would you bring me my baby?".  She was a little reluctant, but didn't tell me why.  She brought Lacey to me and and as she was handing her over she said, "Umm, we have been having to suction her nose and throat very often to remove the blood that she swallowed.  She had blood in her first bowel movement, you know."  Well, no I didn't.  And please, don't leave her here with me.  I might kill her.  My thoughts were running rampant.  That was when I realized that there had been real danger in her delivery.  It wasn't long until the doctor came to see me and gave me the news that my heart had gone a little wonky during delivery.  He would be setting up tests and watching me closely over the next few weeks.  There was a slight snow that was falling on February 5th, the day we were released from the hospital.  There was no car seat and nothing to protect any of us.  Just a steady hand on the wheel of the car, navigating a familiar road, as a proud Dad took his pride and joy home to begin life as a family of four.  Our family was complete.