R and I had our hospital tour last night.
Pre-rant caveats (does it invalidate the rant to do this? oh well): It’s a fine hospital. All the rooms are private, which isn’t the case everywhere. The tour was informative, and it’s exciting to take this step, which makes the birth seem even more real, and imminent! And the tour closed with the two reasons why we’re birthing in a hospital, I suppose—a description of the C-section area, and a peek into the NICU. If those should be needed, I want them close by.
Also, generally speaking hospitals are staffed by competent and caring individuals who are themselves hassled and constrained by a number of factors out of their control. And there are people reading this who have healthy children walking around thanks to the fact that top-notch medical care was instantly available. Others want a child so badly that they would gladly give birth under an overpass if that’s all it would take. A rant against hospitals is self-indulgent, to be sure. But hey, this is a blog. And I’m feeling really surly and sick of being pregnant. Don’t expect rationality here, for surely you will find none.
Now. [rolling up sleeves] I don’t want to get off on a rant here, but I think the problem is that I am fundamentally not a hospital birth person—unless one has a medically indicated need to birth in the hospital or one knows that one will want the drugs. In fact, the further along I get, the more I’d just as soon give birth at home with competent midwives and doulas. (It’s too late for that, but if we were thinking about a third baby…) Being in the hospital last night reminded me of everything that bugged me about the hospital the first time around—and I should say that C was born in one of the top hospitals in the country for labor and delivery. Still! Ugh, the uncomfortable bed, the incredibly uncomfortable chairbed for R, and the fact that each is too small to fit two people, so after this huge emotional event I can’t even cuddle up with the person who helped make it all possible. Not that one doesn’t also need some space… the kind of space one might have in—eureka!—one’s own home! and one’s own bed!
Hospitals are noisy. It’s well-nigh impossible to get good sleep there. The tour guide said that we will all (ah, the patronizing, prescriptive future tense—that’s a subject for a whole rant in itself) want to have the baby in the nursery at night just so we can get some uninterrupted sleep. Hey, here’s a thought if you’re so concerned about my sleep, how about not coming in every 10 minutes all night long to take my temperature and blood pressure?
And isn’t it ironic that even as they are ultra-attentive at times I don’t want them around, it takes an act of Congress to get them in when I press the nurse call button? Yes, ironic, with a side of irritating.
We learned last night that depending on when we come in to the hospital, that we may be coming in through the emergency room. Now, I know that in years past and in small hospitals still, this is the norm. But the thought of coming into the ER for something as routine as giving birth is giving me the willies. Seriously, I’m having CPE flashbacks. Emergency rooms are for heart attacks and sucking chest wounds, not a woman in active labor.
And while we’re on the “I’m not sick, I’m not injured, I’m having a baby” topic, I will not wear your wretched hospital gown with its clownish polka-dot crap and there is no reason why I have to. As for not being able to eat, what century are we in? I’m not going to tuck myself into a chicken-fried steak platter, but dammit, I’m going to eat a granola bar if I want to and it’s back-asswards madness to tell me not to. I’m climbing K2 here and you’re wanting me to fast? If I hurl, I hurl, but last time I almost passed out from lack of food so you can take your policies and get bent. And that also goes for the “routine” whisking of the baby to the nursery to put her under warming lights, unless there is a reason to do so. There are warming lights in the delivery room, and guess what? Blankets are warm. Hats are warm. I’m plenty warm. Her dad’s downright toasty. Thanks but no thanks.
Of course, that’s just my opinion. I could be wrong. Or under the influence of hormones.
24 Responses to “hospital rant”
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Yes, I agree! And I was one who needed the care when A. was stuck and I needed a c-section. My pre-birth was ok (A. was having trouble so I was hooked up to a monitor and couldn’t walk around, but other than that…) but after I give my nurses and hospital a big fat F - or should it be S for sucking the life out of me?
Is this the only hospital for you? If so, maybe you could give them a list of your needs/wants/desires when you check in just so THEY know what to expect!
Hee hee! You’re my hospital hero! I will hide and watch…
Steady….deep breaths…that’s it, in, out…
But the trouble is YOU ARE SOOOO RIGHT.
What about a birth plan? including clear info about what you and reverendbaby need post delivery…
DarlingDaughter and TeenWonder were both born in the same large, fairly prestigious London hospital. With DD, I felt they owned her for her first 4 days…with TW, I went home 3 hours after delivery and things were much better (there’s a lovely thing called a “Domino” delivery here, where your community midwife visits and assesses you at home, so you only go into hospital when you positively have to, and are discharged asap, so she can visit and do your postnatal care at home) and as for LoudBoy…he was home birth with Big Sister, then aged 6, delivering him while his brother was in the garden picking flowers to celebrate his arrival. But it’s always worth making it clear IN WRITING what your hopes for the delivery are…I avoided an epidural and one of those postnatal injections (so long ago I’ve forgotten what it is…migtt be syntocinon??)to help the placenta out, simply because when I was compos mentis, several weeks before delivery (about now, in fact) I spelled out to all concerned that I wanted none of this unless it proved absolutely essential.
But can I just say this about the hospital gown? You don’t have to wash it later. Someone else takes care of that.
Otherwise, I’m with you all the way.
i won’t tell you abut my firstborn, because that’s not a story to tell pregnant people. but just let me say, by my second one i had learned a lot.
the nurse came high-stepping into the labor room with an enema bag in her hand. i said “You’re not gonna need that,” in between contractions, and she said, incredously, “You mean you’re refusing the enema?” to which i replied, “You’re fucking A right I am!!!” *insert painful contraction here*.
ten minutes later, she comes bopping back in the labor room with a shaving kit in her hands. “Out!” i may have screamed. “What? Are you refusing blah blah blah?”
i may have repeated the F word.
anyway, 45 minutes later i knew the girlchild was on her way out and i told He Who Must Not Be Named to go find a doctor. he moseyed out, couldn’t find one, and in the meantime i had to push so push i did. the nurse came in with a glove on and i said, “You ain’t gonna need that,” to which i recieved a disdainful look. until she picked up the sheet, to see said girlchild’s head about to crown.
the doctor stood in the doorway as i pushed her out all by myself. i remember looking at him and wondering what the hell i was paying him $800 for. ( the girlchild is now 21, remember. )
anyway, do what you wanna do, little mama. they think THEY are in charge, but guess what? YOU’RE the one having the baby.
( don’t make me tell you how many people i smuggled up to my room…remember, this was in the day when you could only see one visitor at a time…HAH. )
Somehow I have a feeling that you are going to get your way! You are mama, hear you ROAR!
Do what you need to do for yourself and the ReverendFamily, and know that your girls are lighting candles for you. I am so intrigued by the “domino” delivery and wonder why on earth nobody has thought of that here?
As the lurking pediatrician, I am going to weigh in on this one.
It is the raging hormones.
They are raging so that you will do what YOU need to do to have a healthy baby and mom.
When my patients’ families have a doula, I know that it is useless to suggest that the baby be anywhere but in the mom’s room, do anything but breastfeed, will stay in the delivery room until he/she is getting cold or the parents feel comfortable letting him/her go to the nursery for a bath etc….these hippy, dippy parents always do things differently….thank God.
Write a birth plan with your doula. Give it to your OB, give it to Labor and Delivery, give it to your pediatrician, give it to the nursery. And, hopefully all will go well and it will be followed. But….if there is an emergency expect the plan to be tossed out the window while we take care of you and RB.
Have you read Naomi Wolf’s (Mis)Conceptions? That really changed the way I think about birth…
Thanks everyone for reading the rantings of a crazy woman.
R reminded me of another aspect of the tour that was a little bothersome–the baby-snatching fear-mongering. Of course, we want to know about the procedures for making sure babies are not taken by the wrong person, but that can be done in a way that’s reassuring, not that makes me think “And just why does the child need a bracelet on each wrist, another around one ankle and a lojack on her cord stump? Have there been a rash of abductions here?”
Kathryn, that rocks.
netter, you crack. me. up!
Songbird, that is very true. Last time I wore a years-old T-shirt that ChaplainMom gave me–it has five dancing women on it (one for each of my CG women) and is ultra-soft from many washings. Thanks be to God for my mother who had it washed and folded almost before I got home. I don’t know what I’m gonna wear this time.
And sherry, don’t you think I should just print this post and give it to them as my birth plan? LOL! Just kidding. I actually feel fine (now) about this hospital. It’s just a hospital, that’s all–they have their shtick. And for (frequently) good reasons. And the protocols they were describing–that’s what most of their “clients” want, if the questions from the rest of the tour group are an indication. I just remember feeling rather hassled last time. (BTW it must be hormones that has me up at 4:30 a.m.!)
Since this was a rant I didn’t include a neat moment–when we were touring L&D I saw one of my midwives sitting in the nurse’s area taking a break. She gave a little wave and I realized that I trust my practice (midwives and OBs alike) philosophically–they know what I want but will also give me the straight story. Same with my pediatricians. They are just wonderful.
Steph, I haven’t read that book, but it’s been on my list. Thanks for the reminder.
The more time I spend in hospitals, the less respect I have for their rules.
Respect for personnel, yes. Sometimes. Not always. Too many idiots in hospital garb to respect them across the board.
Respect for the systems that the personnel think let them get their jobs done, but that actually result in patient abuse?
Yeah right.
I started out thinking they knew best. Now I go in assuming I’ll have to piss them off to get anything done.
I was surprised by how much the L&D policies changed between CTA’s and WG’s births. I had all of the crap forced on me the first time–enema, shave. (And when I say forced, they didn’t hold a gun to my head, but I was pretty young, and no one had told me that I had choices, not to mention that I was scared shitless.)
Three and a half years and one regime change later, it was a completely different experience. Not a Fleet or Bic to be seen, and I made it clear that I would personally haunt for the rest of my natural life any well-meaning nurse who came at my child with so much as a binky.
I was the mama that time!
Do what you need to do and don’t take any nonsense. I was too young and meek to speak up 23 years ago and did the fleet/bic routine. I am so glad that things have changed and women are more empowered to plan their own birth experiences.
Blessings…
on a positive note
*they take care of the laundry
(well I could think of one!)
be blessed
I had the first almost 20 years ago, and no one made me do the shave/enema routine. I can’t believe U.Va. was that progressive for 1986!! They still had the scary baby nurses at night who *might* let you have your (read: their) baby for a few minutes, but the L&D part was fine.
dang, i guess i should have remembered where i was and refrained from saying the F word on a reverendmommy’s blog! what was i thinking?
it was the hormones…yeah, the hormones, that was it.
( sorry if i offended…truly. but i really did mean it at the time. )
anyway, someday i’ll tell you all about the birth of the third baby. heh.
ps…well, this is a little embarassing to admit, but since i respectfully declined the enema with the girlchild, unfortunately as she was delivered i…uh…well, i kinda…ummm…pooped on her head.
that’s why i call her my little shithead and why she has never forgiven me.
pps…yes songbird, you may indeed shed a tear for that fact.
my oldest is 23, so i think i’ll just go cry a friggin’ BUCKET.
*sigh*
Totally overcome with womb envy…
Until I remember the pain…and that whole pooping on the baby’s head scenario…
My dear blog sisters, thanks for making my day!
RM, nice to see the re-emergence of Uber-mom, I remember her well from those special prenatal days in seminary. (((Monster hugs))) Do what you need to do for you and yours!
Remind me never to piss you off…
My first live birth was almost 22 years ago (Litigator). No enema, no shave, but fetal monitor because the labor was long and there were some decelerations. It was my last delivery with a male ob for a whole bunch of too-icky-to-tell reasons. I had a midwife happily two years later for Stonemason and two years after that for StrongOpinions. Relatively quick and painless deliveries with no anesthesia, happy breast-feeding babies, less stress all around.
Things are SO much better now (at least by my observation when my step-grandbabies were born), but still and all, you’re on target about so many things about in-hospital births. Particularly about no food, if you’re anticipating a no-problem delivery. Gee whiz, it’s called labor because it’s hard work. You need some nutrition, for heaven’s sake.
You tell ‘em, sister. Do it YOUR way.
I love this post, so I had to de-lurk and comment.
I am a hospital birth type of person and I still feel the way about the things you mentioned. However, with baby 1 and 2 (and the upcoming 3rd) I have been fortunate to have great nurses that did not complain when I wouldn’t wear the gown, ate food from outside the hospital, etc. Of course, now that I have bragged my 3rd delivery will probably be noisy, uncomfortable, and while I am famished.
I sincerely hope that you have a positive experience also.
Note from RM: This was originally posted on a more recent entry (I do that too, not wanting people to overlook my comment) but I thought it so pertinent here and a good contribution to the discussion.
This is sort of about thanksgiving - but sorta not. I have just read your ‘hospital rant’ (found you thru goingjesus)and just want to send you some reassuring words.
20, 18 & 15 years ago I also planned perfect, gentle, non-invasive, in control births. What I got was 3 hospital C sections. Am I distraught? No. Have there been any negative effects? No. Did we raise our 3 wonderful sons our way? Yes.
All these years later, how they arrived in this world matters not a fig. They are healthy, well-adjusted, warm, intelligent young men I am proud to call mine (albeit briefly). Not because of the circumstances of their births but because of all the factors that have gone into them since. Parenting is not about that one moment of experience, it is a lifetime. So, so many experiences to plan and share.
Try not to get defensive/offensive trying to create a brief experience. Go with the flow, if things work naturally, great. If intervention is needed, be thankful it is there. Hospital staff (especially ob/gyn) actually love their work and love every birth they are a part of. Speak up but speak gently and you will be listened to. If you have to, work with them and they will work with you. God bless your baby and its birth.
And here was my response
Thanks for visiting, Karen C. (*love* goingjesus!) And thanks for the blessings.
It is interesting, having had a rather straightforward, unmedicated birth the first time around, a birth that I had prepared and planned for (which is not the same thing as “managing” it by any stretch!), I actually feel less rigid this time, and less sure of myself in certain ways, because I know how much is out of one’s control. I am prepared to accept what comes, to a certain extent: I am willing to submit to the process, and that includes submitting to whatever becomes medically necessary, including surgical birth. Not only am I willing to do this, I know that I must do this. But I am not willing to submit to picayune hospital regulations that run counter to what will help me give birth. Not that I plan to get nasty with hospital staff either–that’s what’s so great about a rant, it allows you to vent
I was a breech baby born vaginally and had a dislocated hip as a result. You wouldn’t know this to see me now; you’re right that we don’t look at grown adults and say, “Whoa, clearly she’s the product of a traumatic/surgical/natural/whatever birth.” And for many people, this fact leads them to view birth as a purely utilitarian process. Of course it is that, but for me it’s just as much a rite of passage–and it is such, regardless of the particulars–unmedicated, epidural, C-section, whatever.
But then, I’m a pastor–I’m all about exploring the power of rites and rituals in our lives
Reading these comments, I am reminded of a woman pastor I know who had three children, one naturally with no medical intervention, one with an epidural, and one c-section. She commented to me when I was planning on giving birth to A. that the baby will come as it needs to. And I am so excited about welcoming Gertie into the world any way she can get here!
Oh, the part about eating reminds me of how absolutely starved I was awaiting the arival of my second child. Now, this birth was a true emergency–I was in preterm labor at 28 weeks, I had been air evacuated to a hospital with a NICU, and the doctors had figured out that they could hold birth off for maybe a day. Well, this led to some great uncertainity about whether or not to feed me. For the most part I was tilted with my head down to delay matters, which isn’t exactly a good position for dining. But, after about 24 hours I was so famished that even hospital food was sounding and smelling good, so they let me tuck in. Yep,no sooner had I finished than Child 2 decided it was time to get a move on, and my full stomach was just in the way.
Thanks for your response RM. I understand exactly what you mean about life’s rites and rituals, they are important.
One of our birthday rituals is to retell the story of each boy’s birth which they never tire of hearing and which we never tire of telling - and every year it is just like yesterday.
I can’t speak for where you are, but the hospital culture here in Australia, while still adhering to minimising risk, is moving much, much more to allowing women and their families to exercise greater control in the process which in turn only helps to minimise risk anyway. Win, win!