Three weeks before my due date, on a July evening, my water broke. I was actually expecting to go into a sudden labor pain or something dramatic of that sort. But it was rather a passive event. I went to the loo for the hundredth time that day and I just went on for lonnnnnnnnggg. I was suspicious and called my mom and DH. Both were clueless and shocked. I told them that my water might have broken and ordered my husband to get out of shock and get the car out.
I changed into comfy PJs, gathered my labor bag, checked myself on the mirror, and got into the car. All the while in the car, I was leaking water, drenching the car seat and making fun of it. My DH was sure that I was just having incontinence and told me that its not labor day :)
But seeing me totally wet waist down, I was rushed into the labor ward. After getting my nether regions shaved and an enema, I was asked to walk till I get the pain. I was quite happy then, assuming that since my water broke, the baby will come out along with that water with no or less pain (Now I know why I didn't qualify to be a doctor). So there I was walking merrily and in quite a good pace along with other to-be moms who were struggling to walk. Seeing me walking fast like a mad woman and leaking water all over the floor, the duty doctor administered drips to induce pain. When the first pain came, it was received well. When the duty doc asked me if I needed an epidural, I was confident I could handle the pain. My mom who knew that I can't even handle a 100 degree fever was shocked to hear me say that. So there I was lying on the bed assuming that the pain had started and asked my mom to hand me the phone so I can talk to my DH who was just outside the labor ward door.
As I was telling him to be strong, the first wave of real pain descended on me and I screamed into the phone. I felt as if someone had inserted cutting pliers inside my hip and opened its jaws. It was excruciating. When wave after wave of pain swept across, I was begging for epidural. The doc said it was too late and rolled me to the labor room and was shifted to the gurney bed. Who on earth invented that kind of half-bed?
There I lay for 30 whole minutes begging for mercy to be sent home or to be killed, yelling insanely, screaming obscenities at the nurses who were busily discussing their dinner menu, ordering them to call my doctor or my DH, threatening to jump from the bed which only led the nurse to strap my legs onto the bed, begging for someone to do something to get the baby out. When the baby did actually come out, I was too drained to be bothered about the stitches I were receiving or even to see the child or know the gender.
I changed into comfy PJs, gathered my labor bag, checked myself on the mirror, and got into the car. All the while in the car, I was leaking water, drenching the car seat and making fun of it. My DH was sure that I was just having incontinence and told me that its not labor day :)
But seeing me totally wet waist down, I was rushed into the labor ward. After getting my nether regions shaved and an enema, I was asked to walk till I get the pain. I was quite happy then, assuming that since my water broke, the baby will come out along with that water with no or less pain (Now I know why I didn't qualify to be a doctor). So there I was walking merrily and in quite a good pace along with other to-be moms who were struggling to walk. Seeing me walking fast like a mad woman and leaking water all over the floor, the duty doctor administered drips to induce pain. When the first pain came, it was received well. When the duty doc asked me if I needed an epidural, I was confident I could handle the pain. My mom who knew that I can't even handle a 100 degree fever was shocked to hear me say that. So there I was lying on the bed assuming that the pain had started and asked my mom to hand me the phone so I can talk to my DH who was just outside the labor ward door.
As I was telling him to be strong, the first wave of real pain descended on me and I screamed into the phone. I felt as if someone had inserted cutting pliers inside my hip and opened its jaws. It was excruciating. When wave after wave of pain swept across, I was begging for epidural. The doc said it was too late and rolled me to the labor room and was shifted to the gurney bed. Who on earth invented that kind of half-bed?
There I lay for 30 whole minutes begging for mercy to be sent home or to be killed, yelling insanely, screaming obscenities at the nurses who were busily discussing their dinner menu, ordering them to call my doctor or my DH, threatening to jump from the bed which only led the nurse to strap my legs onto the bed, begging for someone to do something to get the baby out. When the baby did actually come out, I was too drained to be bothered about the stitches I were receiving or even to see the child or know the gender.
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