Birthing Bliss: My Labor Room Experience in India
"Motherhood: a dance between nerves and joy, where each step is a heartbeat, and every smile masks a thousand emotions."
You might think the bed story is something about how a bed reacts, but it's all about how my days of life went with the same bed. It's the end of the ninth month of pregnancy. I was ready for my delivery, the excited girl entering the labour ward with a smile on my face and a dance in my legs. I was fully prepared before entering the hospital, having taken a 30-minute walk every day. I watched hundreds of videos to prepare for a normal delivery. I was like a person ready for an exam, and my husband was like a person ready for results. I was fully confident about the exam.
Stage One: The Anticipation on the Assigned Bed
Upon entering the labor ward, a bed was assigned to me, and I became the person waiting for my delivery. I was admitted to the hospital, given a gown that was easy to wear. I wondered why this dress and why only this dress. The sisters there told me it would be easier to wear and provide treatment. I trusted their advice and wore it. On the first day, I received my first meal delivered in my name. I was extremely happy that day, seeing a healthy meal cooked and named exclusively for me. I ate while walking, filled with happiness. I observed another girl in the ward, but the labor ward remained silent. I thought perhaps people were uncomfortable talking to strangers in that gown. Nevertheless, I continued walking, eating, smiling, dancing, and jumping. For normal delivery and cervical dilation in the hospital, they informed me about a procedure happening in the evening. I needed to get ready by that time and take rest before it. Alone in the ward, I slept while my baby's heartbeat was measured. I lay there for an hour; my baby's heartbeat was normal. It was a very long hour for me. After some time, I was taken to check the baby's weight. They said it was normal, and then the procedure started in the evening after all these check-ups.
Stage Two: A Partial Patient in Bed
For cervical dilation, they said they would insert a tube in the vagina, and it would start dilation automatically. As I waited, the doctor arrived. She told me to cooperate, breathe in deeply, and slowly breathe out. I was nervous and felt pain, holding my breath tightly. The doctor advised me to stop, saying it would hurt. So, I breathed in slowly and breathed out. She praised me, inserted the tube, but as soon as it was inserted, blood started pouring like waterfalls. Doctors started panicking, checking my heartbeat, my baby's heartbeat, and taking me to the scan room to check the baby's health. Everything was alright, but nobody knew where the blood was coming from. I, as a person there, didn't know blood was coming. I felt something pouring; I kept asking what happened, and everybody said nothing. My parents were waiting outside the labor ward, and my mom started crying looking at me with blood. I, lying in bed, didn't know there was blood until I entered the scan room. I saw the whole half bedsheet in that bed was fully bloodied. My mom asked what happened; I said I don't know, Amma; nobody is telling me anything. I asked her to tell me something at least. She started crying, and I was taken back to the labor room after checking the baby's movements in the scan. I was asked to wear a diaper and sleep. I was given glucose drips and asked to sleep. I slept after asking for my husband after the blood loss. He gave me a warm hug, saying, "You will get alright. Think positive and be fine." The next morning, I went for brushing in the morning with drips at hand and a diaper, becoming half a patient. But my mind said I'm fine, though my body started shivering even for a normal walk. This time I had to take help even for a bath. The day started with hope in mind that today I should be delivering my baby.
Stage Three: The Reality of the Labor Ward
After a shower, they took me to a room labeled as the labor ward. I asked if I could meet my husband or my family. I wanted to see them. They asked me who would be more comfortable for me, my mom, or my husband. I said my husband. I was determined that, no matter what happens, I want my husband to be there. Sisters added strings to my body to check my baby's heartbeat. A doctor came and checked the connections in me, explaining that pain would be measured on one side and the baby's heartbeat on the other. Another side had glucose drops going into my veins drop by drop. The doctor informed me that she was breaking my amniotic sac for a normal delivery, and water started leaking out. My legs were tied open wide apart, and they instructed me not to let my legs down. From early morning at 7 to the evening at 4, a digital clock was in front of me. I wasn't given any food, and the whole day, drips were the only sustenance. There were feelings of frequent urination, and I wanted to pee continuously. Pain increased; doctors visited every one or two hours, monitoring the pain and the graph of the baby's heartbeat. I wanted to pee constantly, and the duty nurse told me I could pee directly on the bed, and she would take care. However, my sense of cleanliness didn't allow me to consider that. I kept asking to pee, crying for my legs to be released. My legs were shivering, wide open, supported only on two seats above us. When I entered the room, I was happy because my husband would be with me. But at this moment, I couldn't see anybody, think of anything, except the pain in both my legs and stomach. I tried to turn to the left or right side, but the nurse didn't allow me. I was a person who had slept for nine months on my left side, lying facing up, making this position difficult, and being like that for more than eight hours was more painful. My husband asked the nurse about the urgency for peeing that I was crying about. The nurse said that's how it would feel because the baby is trying to come out. Once the baby is out, it will be better, she said. I kept doing pranayama constantly, but nothing worked. Pain and only pain was being felt. I kept asking to pee; please leave me, and nobody allowed me to leave the bed. A urine bag was added along with the numerous strings attached to me. I felt the pain from my nerves; I couldn't move my legs because of the wide-open pose for the baby to come out and the leaking amniotic sac. Doctors were checking my cervical dilation; it started opening, but it was not enough, they said. So, they instructed the nurse to increase the pain to 10. I'm not sure how they measured the pain, but they were saying it's now at 5, make it 10. For 5, I was crying like hell, saying I can't tolerate; I want to pee, please leave me. There was a restroom nearby, and I kept asking only once to let me go to the restroom, crying heavily. With more pain, I started behaving like I didn't want to stay here, leave me. My mind started saying, "Who can stop you? Who is there to tell you not to get down from the bed? Who can tell you not to get into the restroom?" I started behaving like a mad person. I really wanted to run away. Since the nurse was standing there, I kept asking to leave me, but got no permission. So, I decided to turn to one side; I turned to the left side and lay on one side. The baby's heartbeat was not being measured; that heartbeat sound was not heard. There was only one music being heard inside the room, my baby's heartbeat. Just to distract me from pain, my husband kept saying, "Breathe in, breathe out," and he played Hare Krishna kirtan, knowing it's the only thing I like. I was hearing Hare Krishna Hare Rama Rama Rama Hare Hare, but more than that music, the only thing I could feel was the need to pee, the constant plea, "I need to pee." My mind was asking only for that. Finally, all the doctors came to the room around 3, saying the pain is at the highest level, so she can deliver now. They continuously encouraged me, saying I was doing well; try, try, try. They told me to push as if I hadn't pooped for four days. I was trying my best, but the pain was more than anything. My mind was feeling the urge to pee more than anything. Everyone encouraged me to hold the lower thighs and push whenever I felt the pain. Every time I pushed, they double-checked if the pain was more, and they said stop pushing once the pain subsided. At half of the pain, I was pushing, then stopping, feeling tired. The same pattern persisted for more than one hour. At the end, when all the doctors came, they said it's time for vacuum delivery. They attached a suction tube and tried pulling the baby. They said there was zero dilation after 2.5 cm, and we can't risk the baby's life. We need to do a C-section, they said, and took me to the operation theater
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Stage Four: C-Section
It was the same bed I had been on, trying for a normal delivery since early morning. Now it was time for a C-section. Actually, while trying for a normal delivery, they had asked if I needed an epidural vaccine to reduce back pain. I checked with my known doctor, and he said it would not give me pain now but would cause pain for a lifetime. I said okay; I won't take it then. I'm not sure if the pain would have been less if I had taken it. The C-section was less painful compared to the normal delivery. They just put anesthesia; I fainted, and when I heard the baby crying, I woke up. My head and hands were visible to me, and others were blocked by a screen. I was hearing the doctors' voices. I was looking at the doctor I had been consulting since my sixth month of pregnancy. I was asking the doctors there to show me my baby. They showed me and asked which baby is that. I said a boy, and I was shivering like anything, my hands and teeth were shivering like I was in a location with zero degrees Celsius. Then, one doctor came and gave me hands, telling me to hold the bedsheet. He gave me hot air to hold. I was able to see some blood and organs after the screen when I was looking up. I was checking for my husband's face even in that operation theater. After some time, the bed was taken back to the recovery room. I was checking for some known face but was not able to see anyone other than four new faces. I kept looking at them so that at least one would see me, and I could ask them something. But no one gave attention. I was shivering still, so I doubted if I could speak. After some time, my mind said I have to talk to get any answer. I asked them, constantly biting my teeth, if I could get any mobile. I want to call my family. They said no mobiles here, and you can't call anyone. I said my family will be searching for me. They said your family members are waiting outside; you don't have to worry. They asked me some details about the baby I got and the time he was born. I suddenly remembered the board in the operation theater where it was written, "Baby of Vasumathi," born at a specific time and date. So, I told them this is what I remember. They said, okay, you got a baby boy. They said you will be taken back to the labor ward; wait for 10 minutes. So, I waited for it, and after some time, the same bed was moved to the labor room. I saw a baby cradle near me. I wanted to see the baby, but I was not able to see it because I was just like a doll lying in bed who needed someone to move. The baby was next to me, but I couldn't see anything. I called nurses to call my family. Then my mom came. I asked her if I could see my husband. She told gents are not allowed. Even in the labor ward, my husband was allowed, but not after delivery. It was miserable. I asked my mom to call my husband and give him the phone for talking. I didn't get any mobile. I called my husband, and he didn't pick up. Mom said he is waiting outside the ward, and doctors are not allowing gents. I didn't meet my brother for three days already. I was longing for my husband. The next day, my mom was called for bathing me, and I was full of strings, urine bags, drips for food. No poop, no pee, no food. But the only thing was my baby was lying next to me. There was a drawback too; I could hear his voice crying but couldn't see him due to the bed being slanting. The only thing I could do was to sleep, and if the baby cried, I'd say, "Sister, the baby is crying." They used to take him to give milk and bring him back. Visitors started coming to meet. Finally, my husband came, and I asked him, "I feel like looking terrible; can you please remove my hair tie and comb it a little?" He then combed a little, tied it with his hand, and fed me solid food finally after three days. Nurses said you will be shifted to a separate ward, and you can meet visitors there. Then it's the same bed shifted to a special deluxe shared room with a TV, AC, sofa chair, etc., with a shared restroom. I was in bed, now not able to walk much. My mind was blank; no idea to discharge; no thoughts in mind. One by one, the body's functionality was getting restored. Doctors came for checking every day in the morning and evening. Things started getting better. I was able to walk but with support. Two more days passed. I was still sleeping, waking up, eating, etc. Finally, while walking after removing all the strings attached, I was able to see my baby's face. I was feeling happy, and tears flowed from my eyes after seeing him after these many days of struggle. While walking, I was feeling better, but after sitting on the bed, I was not able to move. I started hating the bed now. It was the same bed traveling with me from the day I got admitted. It saw me as a happy person the first day, but when I was about to be discharged, I was really feeling like finally, I'll not be a patient here anymore. Goodbye, bed, and now I'll be free. I started walking normally, but there was still back pain. Still, I'm no longer in the same bed, so I'm not a patient, I told myself and left the hospital.
Conclusion:
"As I leave behind the labor ward, the bed echoes not just with my pain but with the symphony of a new beginning. Motherhood, as Browning beautifully put it, is 'love at first sight.' The bed, a silent witness, holds tales of strength, endurance, and the magical moment when love's melody began to play."
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