cowgirl2703

In March of 2002, I had a beautiful baby girl, but the events that lead up to me holding her sweet little body in my arms is something I'll never forget. As much as I want to. I had had an epidural and the labor was progressing extremely slowly. All they did was give my some pitocin to help speed it up only it didn't work. It wasn't until seven hours later that my epidural started to wear off and I felt something wrong. I called in a nurse and she discovered that my baby was in the breech position. I was immediately in excruciating pain and the doctor who was supposively 12 minutes away took 45 minutes to an hour to get there. The anasthes. took forever to get there as well. My doctor told me that I could choose to do it vaginally but it would be safer for my baby if I did a c-section. She said I had to make up my mind quickly and I chose what was best for my baby. The anasthes. asked me if I wanted to go out or be awake and I told him that I wanted to be awake because I heard it was better for the baby and I wanted to see and hold her right away. After they strapped me down, they pricked my stomach to see if I could feel it. I told them I could feel it a tiny bit. My dr. said I should go out and the anasthes. said that he thought it would work. Well, the dr. had to start cutting and I immediately cried out that I could feel it, but she had to keep going. My anasthes. said and did nothing. I felt everything from the cutting, to her pulling my baby out to the stitching. Only after that did the anasthes. tell a nurse to go get something to put me out letting me miss the outside stitching. He never came into my room later to explain what happened to me and why it happened to me. I have heard that maybe he didn't put me out because it could have caused harm for my baby. If that was the case then fine. I will always go through pain if it means she is spared. But he asked me from the get-go if I wanted to stay awake or go out? So, that was an option from the start anyway. The hospital went so far to say that maybe he was just respecting my wishes to stay awake! No one would really explain it to me other than the fact that is sometimes happens, which I find hard to believe. Plus, the time was a little after midnight, so who knows how clear-minded he was. I don't think about it as much anymore, but I am reminded of the whole ordeal everytime I see a pregnant woman and I can no longer watch maternity stories on tv. I am soooo very grateful that my little girl is healthy and unharmed. That is a true blessing and I don't forget that most important part of this. But it was horrific all the same. I can't forget the burning feeling of the scalpel or how cold it seemed of the anasthes. to not even seem to care what was happening to me. I am wondering how I can overcome this. Will I always cringe when I accidentally flip over a channel with a maternity story, will I always shy away from conversation with a pregnant friend or stranger? Will I always be scared to have another baby?