And then a balloon in my belly popped, and water gushed out of me onto the bed (protected by plastic, thank heavens!), and I exploded out of the bed and ran right into the wall, and there was pain pain pain pain pain. A twisting, gut wrenching, intense pain – only something that hurty could have woken me from my drugged sleep. It was 4:40 am.
I scream to Dad that my water broke, AUGH my water broke! I’m sort of nutty at this point – nutty from the otherworldly state that intense labor sends a woman into, and nutty from the sleeping pill. Somehow I end up sitting on the birth ball with my head draped over the foot of our bed, kind of groaning and rocking and being altogether quite weird and animal like. I know Patrick was totally wigged out, and he called the same midwife up. She needed to talk to me, and I remember the phone in my hand and saying some words and then losing the ability to say words, and just handing the phone back to Dad, shaking my head fiercely like a 2 year old who has just learned to say no. My head was in my hands, my mouth was sort of slack, groans were coming out of me, but by God I was rocking on that damn birth ball like I was told to do. The midwife told Patrick that it was up to him if we came in. He asked me, and I think I said I Don’t Know, or maybe I said Yes, but in any case I was 90% asleep from the pill, and 10% who the heck cares this hurts. So he made the executive decision to pack me and my stuff in the car and head back, our second drive to the hospital.
I stumbled down the front deck stairs, and he struggled to manage me (I outweighed him by about 25 pounds at this point.) He bundled me into the car and then raced back to the hospital. During that drive, every bump in the road made me feel another contraction. In between the contractions, which were pretty close together (and extremely intense), I would fall instantly and deeply asleep. As a result, I was in a kind of dream land, speaking nonsense, replying out loud to dream people. A very small part of my brain was aware of this, and I tried to tell Dad not to worry if I was talking nonsense, it was the Ambien talking. But he did worry.
When we arrived we pulled up to the ER, where a valet was waiting to take our car and an orderly was waiting with a wheelchair to take me. I don’t remember getting out of the car and into the wheelchair – I have a vague memory of drooping over like a week-old cut flower, limbs and head dragging, and then waking with a start and picking myself all up and then drooping again. I think I might have been drooling. In any case, my next snapshot memory is of the face of the midwife, Kathy. She has glasses on and she looks up at me from between my knees, and she is startled to announce that I am now 5 cm.
It looks like you’re coming this night after all.
I am too wiggy from the pill to react much to this. I think I must have been wheeled into a delivery room, and I sort of have a wavery memory of Kathy handing over the reigns to the next midwife on duty, Susan Nickel. I think this changing of the guard typically occurred at 6am, and that would fit in our timeline quite well (wake up, water broken 4:40 am. Leaving the house by 5 am, arrive at 5:30, dilation checked etc. and then you’re hitting 6!) So we’ll say at 6am, Susan introduced herself to me. This is her.
This is all about her.
Susan is a graduate of Santa Fe Community College, the University of Florida, Florida International University and the University of Miami. She has been a Certified Nurse-Midwife since 1981 and has worked in rural, suburban and university practices.
“My midwifery career began at Jackson Memorial Hospital in Miami, Florida. I joined a private practice in Palm Beach County where I worked with the same midwives and doctors for 11 years. After that, my calling to the mountains of North Carolina was realized and I moved to set up the first nurse-midwifery service in Caldwell County.I feel blessed that I have had the opportunity to touch so many lives. I have a sister that is mentally retarded due to a birth injury. As witness to her handicap, I have dedicated my career to helping my patients have safe childbirth as well as motivating them to practice positive health behaviors.”
When I saw Susan, I became quite disappointed. In one of my checkups, she told me my belly button was gross and needed cleaning out. She also seemed somewhat dismissive of me during the appointment – I felt like she was presuming that as a first time mom, I was not someone to listen to. I loved Deb, the shaved-head lesbian from Vermont – I loved Stephanie, the impeccably dressed black girl from South Carolina – I loved Jill, the tall gentle one. I could handle Jane, who I met only once. I was NOT down with either Kathy or Susan, and here I was in labor and those were my two delivery midwives. Good grief.
It wouldn’t take long before I would discover that I was wrong to be disappointed.