A mexican birth story part 1

I think it says in the "What to Expect" book that women feel the need to retell their birth stories over and over in order to make sense of the whole event in their own heads. I know I am no exception. After all it isn't every day that you introduce a human being into the world . Seb and I haven't had much contact with the rest of the world since the birth so writing about it has been something I have been wanting to do for two weeks. Especially since it was unique. I gave birth as an expat in Mexico after having my first baby in France.

Right before I got cut off from the internet I was talking about being diagnosed with gestational diabetes. Stepping on the scales at my doctor's office was becoming more and more stressful. Each visit I had gained at least a kilo. The doctor was stressed too and kept asking me over and over "you weighed how much before getting pregnant again?" I swore by my 50 kilos over and over and so did Seb. "She's actually quite small but she gets enormous when she's pregnant" He was right. I was 72.5 kilos at 37 weeks. The doctor ordered me to take a diabetes test.

I failed the first gestational diabetes test miserably. I did with Little S too so I didn't expect to slide by in this pregnancy. The worst part of failing the first gd test is that you have to go back and take a three hour version of the horrible one hour test. My biggest fear during the test was that I'd pass out. When I did the test in France a few years ago I was given a comfy reclining chair and lots of magazines to read. I was told to rest, encouraged to sleep and ordered not to budge. In the Mexican hospital's lab they didn't invite me to stand by. They just wanted me to come back and get blood drawn each hour. What happened to a dizzy, severely obese pregnant woman with a wiley toddler in hand was no concern of theirs. I bided my time in the hospital restaurant since the waiting room and its seven chairs were always full. I continued to feel faint and I had such a huge fear that I'd pass out and lose track of Little S, or worse harm the baby that I thought about calling Seb and telling him to come and rescue me. I was relieved when the whole thing was over and I was in the taxi for home. I just couldn't stay focused. I was sure I had failed but I actually passed the three hour test by one point. I was pre diabetic.

On Friday the ninth I had my weekly appointment. The week before I had been nearly three cms dialated and zero percent effaced. I felt like my stomach was dragging on the floor so I was sure I'd be having her soon. The doctor did another internal exam, probed and then asked me to scoot up higher. "You'll have her this weekend, okay." he announced. I laughed, "yes probably likely" He probed deeper "ouch!" I screamed. He kept poking and prodding and I kept screaming. It was such a painful exam that I asked him to stop. "Why did that hurt so much?" I asked. That's when he casually announced. "I just stripped the membranes. So do you want to check in the hospital tomorrow or Sunday." I still wasn't sure if he was kidding. He didn't even warn me. I couldn't believe he'd tried to induce labor without warning me.

Evidently such bedside behavior is very Mexican as I have discovered over the course of all of this. The doctor knows best and the patient isn't always asked if she wants this or that. In fact she's lucky if she's told anything. It's an authority thing. No one questions authority. I also think it's a macho thing. I noticed that the doctor explained all the procedures to Seb and not me. Seb who isn't used to going to any ob appointments with me. The least knowledgeable one in the room about pregnancy.

I piped in, "I suppose I'd like to have her on Monday" I said, running through the list of all the thing I needed to prepare. "You might not make it to Monday (thanks to his probing!) but we can try for that" he said handing us a small stack of paperwork to take to the hospital across the street. Seb and I kind of looked at each other baffled. I guess we'd have a baby on Monday, maybe Sunday...maybe tonight. How weird--we'd be four on Monday for sure.

The thing about scheduling an induction is that odd phenomenon of knowing when the baby is coming. In our case it was a weekend and we spent the entire time up to the birth completely freaked out.I think that somehow natural labor prepares you gradually. It must be something hormonal. It doesn't occur to you to be afraid. I didn't sleep for three nights. I was just lying there in bed wide eyed and wondering. Mostly though it was fear for the baby. I knew that the birth would be hard for her. I remembered Little S and his tiny dented head--the forceps left red marks that stayed on his face for two months. I remembered the incessant crying and the visits to the osteopath. What would be her fate? Would she be traumatised in some other way? I stayed awake each night rubbing my stomach. The suspense was unbearable.

On Monday morning Seb shook me awake. "Did you sleep well?" I was already awake. "Are you ready?" I didn't feel ready at all. I took a short shower and as the water ran I stared down at my stomach. The last pregnancy? It was all a little sad. There is something in infertilty that makes you love that shape--that feeling of a baby inside you. Even the bad parts--morning sickness and headaches, shortness of breath seem strangely pleasant. The entire nine months are sweet and blissful. Suddenly I felt sad to see the end of the pregnancy. At the same time I knew I'd meet my baby soon. This wonderful little girl that represented the toil of two years of wanting and waiting. It was going to be an emotional day I thought as tears mingled with the water in the shower.

Seb started a video of me that morning. One of those videos where you follow your wife with the camera and ask how she feels about 100 times before the baby comes. Rewatching the video I noticed that in the morning as we walk to the car I look panicked. My face is pale and my eyes are huge. You can visibly see the lump in my throat. I look scared.



*I have to tell the story in a few parts because I can't write everything in one sitting.