As I look forward to my daughter turning one year old this month, I thought I should share my labor and delivery experience. Seeing how happy and healthy she is has been most rewarding, especially considering what it took for her to get here.  According to almost every major publication from National Public Radio to the New York Times, in the U.S black mothers face maternal mortality at three times the rate and infant mortality at 2.2 times the rate of white mothers. These have been deemed national problems. Why is this? Previously, many believed the disparity came from more black mothers living in poverty at a disproportionately high rate. However, recently many wealthy black women have come forward with their stories of birthing struggles. Even high profile women such as tennis champion Serena Williams and Pop Star Beyoncé Carter both revealed their traumatic incidents of near death birthing experiences. The question remains “why are black women at a higher risk for fatal birthing experiences than all others?

Pre-Labor:

Nothing could have prepared me for the labor and delivery of Novella, my first child. I heard labor would be the most painful experience in my life. I have also heard that contractions felt like menstrual cramps on steroids. I conducted plenty of research in the form of watching YouTube videos, reading the best blogs, even read books by midwives and doctors on the subject. Either way, I was not prepared for what I was about to experience.

 

On 29 December 2017, I arrived at my thirty eight week prenatal appointment. My doctor needed to check my cervix to see if it had begun dilating. Christmas had just passed. My family was preparing to leave after visiting for the holiday. At this point, I was exhausted and ready for my baby girl to arrive. I was excited to meet her, and tired of being pregnant. To be honest, I was not ready for my family to leave. I guess Novella could feel that, because she started rumbling. Let me continue my story.

 

When the midwife checked my cervix I felt a strong yet sudden feeling of discomfort. I screeched then the midwife and nurse apologized. The sensation felt like a dry cotton ball wiping my vagina. The midwife confirmed my amniotic sake was still in tack and my cervix was still tightly sealed. I returned home where my mother and youngest brother were playing with Legos. My husband and step-father decided to go do “man stuff,” so I tried to find a place for myself. I sat on the couch, eventually I falling asleep next to my mother. Not long after, I began to feel intense pain. The days leading up to labor, Novella was extremely active moving around and kicking me mercilessly. This night was no different. I eventually got up from the couch, showered and got in my bed. I could not sleep; because around eleven o’clock that night, I started to feel what felt like intense menstrual cramps. I called out for my mother and she assured me that that it was just gas. Previously, she had been right, so I believed her. Needless to say, each time a felt “gas,” which was every three to five minutes, I ran to the bathroom hoping to relieve myself – relief never came.

 

Labor:

By six in the morning I could not sit still through the pain. I would walked around, squats, I would even danced around Novella’s crib. At about eight o’clock that morning my husband woke up. I told him that I thought the midwife may have given me an infection and I needed to go back to the hospital. At this point, I was still unaware that I was in full on labor. I called the triage nurse and she instructed me to take Tylenol, drink water, and take a bath. I complied. My husband ran me a warm bath, grabbed the Tylenol and went to the kitchen for the Brita water filter and a glass. I tried my very best to relax in the tub. That was an epic failure. I could not sit still. The pain was too intense. I got out the tub with the help of my husband of course. The pain was so excruciating that I could not do it on my own. I laid down for twenty minutes or so, before putting on the first clean thing I could find. We drove to the hospital, which luckily is only about ten minutes away.

 

We arrived at the hospital around ten thirty. The nurses immediately hooked me up to monitors, and an IV. The midwife checked my cervix and I was one centimeter dilated. The doctor entered the room and informed me that they were going to send me home. On cue like in a cinematic movie, I begin to vomit. This caused a spike in my blood pressure which forced the staff to question sending me home. They finally decided to admit me. I was put in a room and given an epidural. I did not want one initially, but the pain was too much to bare. At this point, my contractions were coming every two minutes and lasting for ninety seconds each. I had no relief. Also, I was dehydrated and delusional.

 

Delivery:

The epidural worked for about a day before my body developed an immunity to it. This meant I could feel the contractions all over again. This time with no relief.

 

We discovered I developed preeclampsia. Preeclampsia is a disorder that only occurs during pregnancy and the first few weeks postpartum, potentially affecting both the mother and child. If not treated, seizures can develop and/or can be fatal for both mother and child, this is eclampsia.  In order to prevent the progression of this condition, I was given magnesium sulfate. This was administered to prevent seizures and to lower my blood pressure. The only effective treatment for preeclampsia is giving birth.

 

31 December 2017, I requested the midwife come check my cervix. She informed me happily that I was now eight centimeters dilated. This was a relief. Baby girl was on her way. We started the delivery process. My husband who was my biggest supporter and coach, jumped right into position. Or team consisted of – two nurses, the midwife, a doctor, my husband, myself and my mother rooting from the sidelines (i.e. the hallway). We went to work. I pushed and pushed, my husband coached and motivated, the doctor was in position to catch Novella. The problem was the doctor could not feel Novella’s head. This was a major cause for concern. After about an hour of pushing, we discovered that Novella never made it to the birth canal and was not ready to come out. At that point the doctor checked my cervix and informed us that I was not fully dilated. The amount of frustration I felt in that moment could have burned down a city if it was fire. I was in a lot of pain. I was emotionally drained and confused. I repeatedly screamed “get this baby out of me!” This got their attention. Polite Alisha was no longer being polite. The doctor rushed into the room and explained that I will have to have a Cesarean (C) section. My husband and I signed the waiver and we were off.

 

While prepping for the procedure the Anesthesiologist came to give me another epidural. It did not work. Eventually, we had to put me completely under anesthesia. In other words, I was put to sleep. When I came to, I was being rolled into a room where I saw my mother, my brother, and my husband holding my baby girl.

 

This is Novella’s 1st photo post delivery. Because of all the premature pushing her head was swollen.

Post Delivery:

I was so happy, but Novella looked strange. Other than the fact that she was about 120 shades later than I am (this is a joke). Her head was very large. Due to the medication I was on it was not clear to me in that moment that her head was swollen. The premature pushing caused her pain and her head swell as a result.

 

Those first moments holding her was surreal. She was beautiful. She looked nothing like me, but she was mine. “It is nice to finally meet you Novella. I love you.”

I could not walk on my own and needed to remain in the delivery room until both the magnesium sulfate and anesthesia wore off completely. The next day, I discovered my new battle wound in my lower abdomen. It was painful. The hospital kept me sedated with Percocet. I was also force feed all types of other medications to include – Prenatal Vitamins, Ascorbic Acid, Docusate, Ferrous Sulfate, Norethindrone, and Senna Conc.

 

I was ready to go home. I heard stories of women given birth and are able to go home the same day. I knew that was not my reality but I would at least like to leave the following day. At this point I was in the hospital three days and counting. Novella was healthy. I felt good. Unfortunately, I was not good. It was explained to me that I had a low blood count and needed to be monitored. They also suggested a blood transfusion.  I had three different doctors come to talk to me and each time they came with a different blood count number for the same tube of blood drawn. To my husband and me it smelled like bullshit! That day we decided not to do the blood transfusion.

 

After arguing with a few more doctors, I was forced to stay in the hospital because I am Active Duty Air Force and legally they do not have to release me. My husband and I were prepared to stay in the hospital the thirty-ninety days required for my blood cells to return. This annoyed the hospital crew, so they called my personal doctor in. He was a young black man who had the causal coolness of President Barack Obama. He explained to us that my blood cells were continuing to burst even though I was stitched back together. This was due to my sickle cell anima trait. He also went on to explain that I could pass out while holding Novella if I did not accept the transfusion. I was worried about Novella, so I gave in. I needed to convince my husband, but once I really explained to him what it all meant, he hesitantly agreed.

 

I was given two bags of blood. The transfusion took a couple of hours. I did feel much better in the end. My appetite came back, however I did not realize I had lost it. I guess it was all the adrenaline. The doctors kept their promise and released me that same night. Five days after entering.

 

Finally Home:

The preeclampsia was not a surprise to me. During my thirty six week appointment I expressed concerns to my doctor about my feet swelling. He laughed casually and told me my feet were supposed to swell. I pushed the issue a little harder then he began to laugh harder. I decided to let it go. This is when my preeclampsia could have been caught and we could have begun treatment for it. The early diagnoses could have potentially kept me from having a C-section instead of being a contributing factor. This is the biggest lesson I have taken from this experience. No one knows my body like I do, so when something is off, push aggressively.

I still wish I did not get the blood transfusion, but my hands were tied. If I had it my way, I would have re-established my blood flow holistically. The medical profession makes too many mistakes that cost people their lives. I have since had a new flow of my own blood enter my body and the blood from the transfusion has cycled out. I also took the step to get tested for any and every blood related disease. Call me paranoid, but I just wanted to be confident in my health.

 

Once home it was really nice to sleep in my own bed. My mother and mother-in-law maintained the house while we were away. This included cleaning, laundry and walking the dogs. For that I am forever grateful. You really miss home when you are forced to stay away.

Final Thoughts:

I have friends who are largely in the medical profession and they have admitted to me that in medical school they were taught that black people have thicker skin. This is reasoning to jam needles into their arms, along with other nuances. This is still the thought process in the millennium. If we think black people are physically stronger than all other humans, then medical practitioners will neglect to be gentle and handle black people with care. Why should they listen to our concerns? I believe medical professionals believe blacks will ultimately be fine regardless of the quality of care provided. If we begin to take responsibility for our actions as a nation and not use the lack of financial resources as a scapegoat for institutional racism then we can make lead way in improving the maternal mortality rates.

I hope this story taught, helped and inspired. Please share your stories with me. Email them to Alisha@APFeminintity.com

 

 

Happy Birthday Novella!

31 December 2017