By Jeanette C. Florio
I was 16 when I got pregnant, which was completely unexpected. I had 3 prior miscarriages and at the most recent one, I was told I’d never be able to carry a pregnancy to full term due to some complications with my uterus being narrow or something (they never went into detail with me). My boyfriend at the time was also told he would never have kids due to low sperm count. We never assumed it would happen, though I can say we both wanted it to happen. I moved in with Billy after my father started doing drugs again when I was 15. It took my father 2 weeks before he noticed I was gone. Soon after I moved in I got a good paying office management job. 6 months latter I was pregnant. Of course at 16 and pregnant every one told me to abort the child right away, I was too immature to care for him. The only person by my side was my mother. 5 months into my pregnancy she took me and my boyfriend to Las Vegas and signed for me to get married.
My OBGYN was great. Due to some problems with my medical insurance, I wasn’t able to see him until I was 18 weeks along. During my first visit I was so ecstatic, just to be somewhere that pregnancy was accepted. The staff was amazing, very kind and I grew to love each of them. My OBGYN was a young doctor fresh from medical school. He was able to tell me the first day I met him that I was having a little boy! He was kind and gentle, answering all questions I had but at the same time keeping our visits brief.
The weeks went on and by the time I was 6 months along I developed a very bad kidney infection that spread to my urinary tract and bladder causing my uterus to contract due to irritation. I was hospitalized for 3 days. The rest of my pregnancy went pretty uneventful until the very end. By 36 weeks I have having braxton hicks contractions so bad I was put on a mild form of bed rest. The Tuesday of my 39th week I felt a pop in my belly. No fluid came out, the baby was moving fine, so I thought nothing of it. I went to my appointment on Friday as usual, When Dr. T. noticed my fluid was VERY low. To be precise, I only had 2cm of fluid inside the amniotic sac. My mucus plug was intact and the baby’s heart rate was fine, and his conclusion was simply the amniotic sac had somehow gotten torn, possibly the baby’s fingernail or toenail, and was unable to repair itself and leaked out into my uterus, basically wrapping the baby in the sac with the fluid outside him. He instructed me to go grab some food and my bag and meet him at the hospital in a ‘little while’.
I arrived at the hospital that night where I sat and waited for another patient to be put in a room, then whisked away to a labor and delivery room. My husband hadn’t even arrived yet by the time they had a urine sample, changed me into a gown, had a iv in, running fluids, antibiotics and pitocin, and had me hooked up to fetal monitors. I couldn’t…move. Period. If I as so much reached for my cell phone the monitors would start beeping and a flustered nurse would come in to move them around. My doctor came in about a hour later. He told me they would give me cervidil and an epidural. I wasn’t even dilated yet at all. I repeatedly told them I did not want an epidural under any circumstances. I hated being numb it was a scary feeling for me. Yet, they told me I had to, one nurse even taunting me calling me, “One of those bad moms”. I was basically forced into a ball crying, begging for them not to do it.
The epidural only took to one side and I was terrified. My worst fear was to become paralyzed and now I was living it. I could eat or drink, I couldn’t move, I just had to sit there….for 36 LOOOONG hours.
It was 11pm the night before Super Bowl Sunday. My husband and OB kept making jokes about how they were going to leave me to watch the game if I didn’t have the baby prior. I must have cried more throughout my labor then ever. My doctor looked at me and said “You’re at 2cm after a day and a half. You’re not progressing. You can lay here until Tuesday and not even get to 6. You need a c-section”
The baby’s heart rate was fine. He was head down and dropped so low if you cut my cervix open he would come right out. The only thing not cooperating was my cervix.
“You’ll have to knock me the heck out before you do a c section” I told him. I looked at me really hard and walked out. I thought I had pissed him off for a minute. He came back in and said “The anesthesiologist says he’ll do it, only because your not swollen or anything and there’s a very low risk for aspiration”
I had 5-7 medical professional in my tiny little room telling me I HAD to have a c section. I was tired, hungry, and they told me I wouldn’t have the strength to push even if I became fully dilated. Everyone was against me. I said yes.
My son was born at 11:24pm January 31st 2009, 7lbs 7oz and 19 3/4 inches long. We named him Rebel Gregor (Gregor after his Scottish Godfather). He had a full head of dark hair and dark eyes.
I woke up in so much pain, it was like something out of the movies. Everything was blurry and all I could feel was a nurse mushing my swollen, tender tummy like it was bread dough. My husband came in and asked if I wanted to see a picture of the baby. I said “No!!!….If I see him I’ll cry and if I cry it’ll hurt”. I was in so much pain, but one thing I noticed was the hated epidural was gone (YEY!).
They wheeled me in my recovery room were I spent the minimum time dealing with evil anti-breastfeeding nurses who seemed to want me to go into a panic attack. They brought my baby in with a bottle of enfamil stuck in his isolate just to aggravate me (both me and my husband told them several times NOT to give him pacifiers or formula PERIOD.) Sunday afternoon my husband and OB went to watch the game and gave me some alone time with Rebel. The nurse came in again to “do some tests” and never brought my baby back. 5 hours latter my husband went into the nursery and just wheeled him the heck out of there no ifs, ands, or buts.
When they brought me diapers, they brought me packages of formula. I probably went home with a couple hundred dollars of that stuff.
I wish I would have listened to my husband and not to the doctors and just given myself time. Heck, he pushed me to breastfeed and I made it a whole year! I live with my decision to have given up everyday. I’m glad the first decision, not to abort, was the right one. How many 17 year olds do you know who cloth diaper, breast feed, and live organically/naturally? I’d assume that would be a very mature one :-)