Moanna’s Birth Story – Part 2: Coke and Narcotics

Today we are continuing with Moanna’s birth story. Part 1 of this saga covers us finding out we were having a baby, preparing for a natural birth, my water breaking at work and ends just before we pulled up to the hospital. In Part 2, you will see that things quickly go from a natural birth to an intervention ridden birth…

Before we continue, a little disclaimer reminder. First, the ultimate goal and desire for any birth is a healthy baby and mommy. That is what we got with Moanna, and for that we are eternally grateful. Second, birth stories, plans, expectations, wishes, etc. are deeply personal and unique to each birth. What I want for birthing my babies is based on who I am and what I feel is best for me and my babies. What you want for your birthing experiences is likely to be different from mine and that’s how it should be. So please be kind and open minded to my story, thoughts and feelings. And please, please give the same kindness to the stories, feelings and thoughts that others may wish to share.

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If you need to refresh yourself or you missed the first part of the story, take a minute to read Part 1

We arrived at the hospital birthing center around 10:30PM, and were escorted straight to our room. Once we were “moved in” a nurse came in to start working on me. I told her that I did NOT want drugs and IVs, and that I wanted to take a shower because I was not bringing a child into this world smelling like a restaurant. I also wanted to eat. I had just eaten before we left, but prior to that meal I hadn’t eaten much that day and was hungry again. I could tell the nurse was not happy with the fact that I was already voicing my wishes and making demands. She told me I couldn’t do or have anything until they checked me and the baby to make sure everything was going OK. Moanna’s heart rate was a little sluggish, so I had to drink some orange juice and wait for Moanna to wake up and put on a show for the nurses. About 15 minutes later, Moanna woke up and I was finally allowed to eat and wash off the restaurant funk and broken water ick.

While a nurse was freeing me from the monitors, I was giving Steve my dinner order – double cheeseburger, large fries and a giant icy Coke. The nurse’s jaw dropped at the mention of a Coke. “That’s not healthy for the baby. Don’t you know caffeine is bad for both of you?” I told her I didn’t drink a lot of Coke, and that Steve would end up drinking most of it. What I really wanted to say was to back off because a little Coke isn’t nearly as “bad” for us as unneeded drugs. Steve ran to Wendy’s to pick up our food. When he returned, we enjoyed our late night meal and I downed the Coke out of spite. Before I finished chewing my last bite, I was dragging Steve to the bathroom with me so I could shower. I was not about to have something come up and prevent me from taking a shower that I desperately needed before I met my new baby. I was not about to have my baby smell down-home restaurant and think “That’s my Mommy!”  That was one of the most amazing showers of my life.

After my beloved shower, I returned to the bed and turned on the TV. I wanted to get some sleep before things got really intense. In order to be effective at bringing Moanna into the world, I knew I needed to get some rest after the long day of work I had had.

As we were settling down, things started to intensify and I started to feel shaky and like I was going to throw up. It was probably nerves more than anything, but I couldn’t get it to go away. Finally, I asked Steve to go fetch a nurse. I told the nurse I needed something that would take the nausea away so I could rest. Somehow that translated to a drip of narcotics, a bag of fluids and a shot of Finnegan. Honestly, a Finnegan in pill form would have been MORE than enough. When I’ve had them in the past I was knocked out within half an hour. I asked the nurse what was with all the IV’s and she was like, “It’s just the medicine you asked for and since you’re in active labor it’s good to have you on fluids.” There was NO, and I mean ZERO mention of the fact that one of those bags was a drip of narcotics. I should have checked the bags myself, but I would have never imagined that the nurse would lie or withhold information from me. My theory is that the doctor on call didn’t want to be bothered in the middle of the night with a woman in labor, so he wanted to knock me out and deal with me in the morning.

A few minutes later I was drunk. Totally wasted off my butt. The nausea and shaky feelings were gone and I was in lala land. Steve was amused by my drunken state. He helped me settle down into bed to get some sleep and laid down beside me on his chair bed thing. Just as we were both about to pass out, Moanna’s monitor started alarming and the nurses rushed in. I was alarmed but mostly I was too drunk to care what was going on. Steve, on the other hand,  shot out of bed in a panic and watched nervously as the nurses were working on me. They turned me over to lay on my other side and Moanna’s heart rate returned to an acceptable level. Allegedly the way I was laying was cutting off Moanna oxygen and blood supply or something. Of course at the time we had no idea that Moanna and I were being pumped with narcotics, no one would ever admit that the glorious drugs would ever have been the issue. My theory, the narcotics had made their way to Moanna and she was drunk too. The adrenalin and me moving around trying to make Moanna happy sent her a rush of adrenalin and evened her back out. The three of us slept soundly until the next morning….

Continued in Part 3

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