My LaborDay story

First of all, I’d like to greet everyone a Happy Labor Day since it is almost May 1^st, Philippines’ National Labor Day celebration! 

It will be a non-working but busy day for activists and labor groups but for some non-partisans, it could be the start of a long weekend so regardless of where you in the spectrum; this day is sure to be a memorable one! 

I would like to digress though and create my own LaborDay celebration because it being a day for workers is obviously already commemorated.

I would like to re-declare today as National #LaborDay and share my Labor Day story...after all, not one is ever the same, ask your mothers! ;-) It is also very timely since Mother’s Day is just around the corner! 

It was on November 15^th 2011 when my LaborDay story started... (cue nostalgic music..)

I had gone to my routine pre-natal check-up and all was well, after all, my expected due date was not until the 28^th. After my check-up, I went to Robinson’s Place and did a little window shopping making sure I bought a bar of Mars chocolate. (My favorite really is Three Musketeers but inventory for such brand was getting scarce for some reason.)

 

After the said morning stroll at Robinson’s place, I went home just usual and in the evening even cooked dinner for my mother and brother and took the food to the mini sari2x store my mother tended a few meters from the house. It might be good to note that to reach my parent’s house from her sari2x store, you would have to walk an elevated pathway and climb 3 flights of stairs with multiple steps. (This is to illustrate how tedious it might have been but seemed perfectly normal for my then daily-walking pregnant self). 

After dinner, I managed to eat my chocolate bar while I was on the phone with an office friend and had a great and animated conversation while munching on the chocolate bar and while watching tv at the same time. (Giving birth was nowhere on my mind then.)

 

A little before midnight, I was feeling a little uneasy and felt the need to constantly go to the toilet to relieve myself. I had asked my sister who had a baby before me and already had had 4-year old son, if what I was feeling was a sign of labor. She was quick and calm to tell me it wasn’t because the level of pain I was feeling wasn’t that extreme yet. With that comfort in mind, I was going to go to sleep content that it was just another phase of being pregnant but not really a sign of labor.

Still uneasy and unable to sleep, I again stood up to relieve myself in the toilet but after I did, I vomited along the way. 

That’s when my sister finally said, “Yeah, you might be in labor so let’s get you to the hospital!”(So now you’re finally convinced?) 

We finally got a taxi and we rode to the hospital while I struggled with the pain that was going on and off. Apparently, those were the contractions! I had asked the driver to be a little gentle in driving because of the pain.

When I finally reached the hospital after what seemed like an eternity of squeezing in pain and then not again, and then squeezing again in pain. 

When I entered the maternity ward, I saw a lot of other pregnant women who seemed like everything was normal when I on the other hand,  was almost shouting in pain but repressing it – my face possibly even more difficult to draw! Surely, these women were not in labor because some of them were even sleeping! 

The whole time I was agonizing with an on and off pain of unimaginable level, an angel of a nurse was beside me and became my stress ball during the entire ordeal. I squeezed her arm every time a contraction came but I would profusely apologize afterwards – it’s a miracle I didn’t even break her arm in the process because I surely didn’t hold back on the squeezing! ;-)

I might have sounded really awful or moaned a little too much that after a few minutes of waiting around alongside all other “preggies” chilling out; the head nurse advised after a while that I wash up and get dressed so I could transfer to another room. After I was handed a set of fresh clothes (my then bf and now hubby had gotten me change clothes but I had to wait a while to get it), I was escorted by the nurse into the bathroom to shower. 

It was possibly one of the scariest showers I’ve ever had because my legs were shaking from the pain and the cold water and I was getting blood all over my feet. I was telling the nurse the whole time what was happening and she was telling me it was normal and to be careful so I don’t slip on the wet floor. She was quick to receive my clothes and assist me during the seemingly simple but seriously difficult process of getting a shower when you’re in labor with your first child! (It was a little humiliating too because I really felt like a little child and totally felt helpless!) 

After I managed to shower and change, I was escorted to the IE room. You apparently had to go through a host of other rooms before you can go to the delivery room. There was the waiting area (check), the IE room (check) the labor room and finally the delivery room. 

I was at the IE room where doctors check how many centimeters your cervix has opened to determine how far you are into your labor. I was asked to lie on a half bed but the whole time I was there, I was scratching the walls and seriously calling all the Gods to end the pain. (When other mothers tell you that you call out to all saints and Gods when you’re giving birth, that really sums it all up for you!! They’re not kidding!) 

There might have been an overhead television set at that time to keep patients occupied, if I remember it right. (Or was I just hallucinating?)  But no amount of outer stimuli was diverting my attention from the painful ordeal I was going through; I squirmed and writhed in pain while half-lying on the half-bed meant for IE examination purposes!

 I really felt like something was already on its way out so I have called to a few nurses to tell them that. The first few ones I called just told me it was normal but finally one listened and checked.

Because of that, I didn’t get an IE, skipped the labor room entirely and went directly into the delivery room walking awkwardly and being told along the way to keep it in. (Seriously?! Are you begging to meet Manny Pacquiao’s female version and get punched in the face?!)  I awkwardly climbed on top of the delivery bed, with shaky legs and immeasurable pain and once on top was told to spread my legs wide! 

Because of the writhing pain, it was difficult to do just that because I would instinctively curl up when the pain comes back. I still had inhibitions then too, after all, it was my first! 

Once I was made still and ready for delivery, I think I only took one breath and then the baby came out after. I don’t remember a cry but I do remember being told by one of those who assisted that the baby was a lucky one and started counting from 5 backwards as they tried to straighten the umbilical cord all wound around him. After a while, he was laid on top of me and it was hard to describe the feeling!

It was relieving because the on and off pain was gone but still so overwhelming and painful because I still felt hands working on me. Apparently my placenta was very thin and it was hard to get it out totally. I overheard the assisting nurse ask a more experienced doctor to help with the process. This process was also painful and I was voicing a painful “ouch” every time while the doctor explained that it was crucial because if not totally removed, it could be fatal. It was funny yet touching to note that each time I voiced ouch, the little baby on top of me would cry at the same time – as if feeling my pain with me. 

After a few more minutes of painful after-delivery processes, I must have dozed off in exhaustion and woke up while I was being moved to the recovery room on a wheeled hospital bed; it was already morning. I saw my mother and my soon-to-be-hubby along the way; they had waited outside the whole time and were relieved that I finally got out safely.

Once in the recovery room, I was faced with all other challenges such as walking, peeing, pooping and other basic things because I was too scared of the pain. The initial pain and challenge of breastfeeding was also another difficult ordeal but the worse was the endless overnight crying by my son due to what I would discover later as colic. We were literally up all night for hours trying to lull him to sleep and we had to get out of the room so we could let the other patients sleep. This was just the first few of the many sleepless nights soon after – definitely exhausting but totally cherished! 

My little boy is now 3 years old and turning 4 this November 16^th and as I recount my #LaborDay moment, I now consider it as a funny story to tell but I’m pretty sure my then 30-year old self saw it as nothing but! 

And I can’t blame her; she was the one who went through it after all! :-)

 

So, what’s your #LaborDay story?  

4/30/15 @ 11:15a nmed