I'll tell you word for word for my party ...
am entry into the delivery room after 48 hours of contractions (monitored once in the hospital and sent home). First child, open to three centimeters. The gynecologist visits me and says "Well, we're almost there" I visited the midwife "Noooo, we are not here at all, it will still take many hours," the trainee visits me and asks me "E 'followed by some of our private staff? What job do you and your husband? " (I swear, I asked exactly these things!). When I said I was not followed in private by someone on their staff and that my husband and I used were simple, a gynecologist and obstetrician, became suddenly serious and much less friendly than before, found themselves magically agree "Ah, the child is supported throughout on the bladder, put here on the bed sheep, so that will come before "and they are gone. All. Without giving me any other explanation.
I, good good I put myself on the couch, but after just two minutes felt a twinge atrocious. Start a contraction. Very long and painful as hell, but stopped after a few minutes. Enter the midwife with a cup of tea, I attach the sensor and tells me to stand still in that position. If it goes again. Another contraction, even more painful and longer. My husband is standing by the bed, worried because he knows me well, knows I have a very high pain threshold and that I am a rather calm and quiet. If there is something that I'm so excited wrong, there is too much pain. Skip mezzo'ora with contractions that come and go, ever longer and more painful. Every now and then enter a girl who makes me the sensor on the belly, and then goes away. After another half hour. At this point I start to feel excruciating pain, as a single contraction that grips me, that does not go away. The pain the world's strongest and without respite, continuously, without pause. An hour passed thus, no one comes to see how I was. I start to complain loudly, enter the midwife sc @ zzatissima, we exchange a few jokes, but they are too painful and I can not speak. I ask how long. Fatalistic air tells me "I can not answer, could go on all night." Scared from your reply, I ask the epidural. If you have not previously had a nice face, with this sentence further expression changes, becomes almost bad: "But you know what you can do an epidural? You might be paralyzed, you may cause serious damage to your son!" And then if we call the ' anesthesiologist now takes one hour to arrive.'re good here and wait, ok? " And walk away. But the pain is on my chances, I feel that I can not, I miss the forces have not slept for two days and the contractions were already two hours that I have a single contraction that never stops, even increasing minutes of in minutes. Like a rubber band curtains, blinds and you never know when it will break. I begin to cry. But it is not because I lost control, indeed. It 's just to download the pain in some way, because everything felt fine, I was very clear and I never lost my head, I recall those particular words and even though my husband was amazed at how I remember them despite the pain. Enter the midwife, always with his dry air. It makes me undress and told me to go in the shower. I do not want, I do not feel, but she pushes me almost by force under the jet of hot water and put me on all fours. I still remember that scene: I saw the midwife and my husband standing in front of me, the pain would not stop, I held me back from the URL and the inn (sc @ zzata always, I recommend!) With arms crossed that talking amiably with my husband, saying nonchalantly, "See? See how she suffers? It 's the pain that will prove stronger in his life. suffers much you know Feel like screaming !"... as if I was not there! He spoke to me in third person, almost taking for cul0 for casin0 I was doing. I swear, at that moment I felt a dog. A dog vivisection.
But at this point I break the waters. I hear a "CIOCK" between my legs and I see a stream dark-colored urine that flows between the legs. The midwife told me to go out, I get up and as a sliver run naked to my bed, I cling to the pillow and began to scream like I never cried in my life. They spend about ten minutes and the midwife told me to put on Cavalchini. I thought I just wanted to see me, but when I support the sensor on the belly I find myself in a whirlwind: I have two students who I jump on his stomach, the gynecologist as their fingers, loosen the vagina making me a bad dog and the midwife who screams I stop screaming like that. My husband is on my side, but behind him I see five other people who look at me serious, as if they were enjoying a show. I do not know if I feel bad for the shame of being naked and screaming in front of all those people or for the incredible pain I feel all over. No one says a word, no one to reassure me. I seem to suffer an attack. With my hands I cling to each hold, including the trainee who shakes me to make me give up grip. I feel the gynecologist who introduced me somthing inside, it hurts, it's windy. Pull rolls, the trainee gives me a shot to the sternum and supports all the weight on my stomach, I feel a painful tear, I thought that the child was released. But it was the only sucker who had not taken hold. I see that everyone goes crazy. The gynecologist gets something in his hand, trying to hide it, but I realize that it is the scissors. I yelled NO biggest of my life, strong and desperate. He pauses, looks at me with cold expression and said nothing cuts. It hurts awful, feeling cut the muscle makes a noise that freezes the blood ... They are desperate and angry. I put the cup back, pushing me back on my stomach, I scream to push my son and finally quit. Stretch out my arms to take it, to tighten the chest to get the arms the result of so much suffering borne for love. But I see him for a second: a small doll, still, lifeless, his arms dangling. It 's just a moment, because the gynecologist and throws it in a cradle, as if he were dead. They all run away, we are just me, my husband and midwife. "Why would you take away ??!!!" "But it's nothing, they just ask some analysis," No, ... than I can do whatever they want, but not my child. I order my husband "Corrigli behind, you go to see what they do!" he follows them and find our baby in a small room nearby, with the oxygen mask and two doctors who massaged his chest and belly. They do not realize that my husband is behind them and one says to another, "What a mess that made ... And this guy (pointing to the small) is struggling to recover ..."
My husband feels the pull sleeve is the gynecologist who pulls him out of the room. Start talking, affable and funny, as if they were two buddies. "Eh, you know, these are things that happen, one in three women give birth like that!" Meanwhile
comes the trainee begins to heal. I think it's been half an hour between my legs to give a cross-stitch. When it begins to heal the cut on the buttock say it hurts too much, but she says no, so who is sewing the skin, ends immediately. Yes, ten minutes on the teasing @ ppe who, to make matters worse all I have suffered.
But where's the baby? Cabbages, I do not know if it is male or female! I would love a child! But the midwife told me that I have to wait a little longer '. Meanwhile, a nurse takes my blood that dripped from his legs, commenting that annoyed with all my screams I woke up in the fourth floor ... Thank you, ma'am, I needed a word of support!
Luckily after a while 'I hear him crying. Ah, it's alive! I relax. Enter my husband, seriously and with red eyes, with a screaming bundle wrapped in a blanket "They said you can keep it two minutes, then he should immediately bring in intensive care ... But do not worry, they said they probably did not damage ... "Probably no damage? But if you have a bump on the head and a huge bloody cut half-moon that looks like a lobotomy ??!!!!! And these are not damage ??!!!! Me
him away almost immediately and within minutes the midwife tells me I must go on. I ask only half an hour to recover, her legs do not hold me ... "But how? Do not want to see your son? "She puts her pants on the network, covers me with a dressing gown and I am out of the delivery room. I turned around, I ask if I may use a wheelchair ..." Come on, like no Can you walk? Move on, you have to go to your son! "Ugly witch, even the wheelchair I deny it?! After all I've done? Oh, no! I slumped in his chair and I have made scarrozza throughout the hospital ... At least this ...
Ah, thank goodness the baby had no damage, even though he risked big. And, fortunately, is male. It should not be all that.
Mitka
2008 (original post)
