Labor and Delivery

This was written several years ago for a panel hoping to improve birth experiences in Danville. However, it's still written from my heart and experience, so I am sharing it publicly without naming the name of the doctor. 

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I am not a woman who is obsessed with all things labor and delivery. I didn’t pursue a “birth plan”, I didn’t have any major desires or expectations as far as “birth experiences” go. I did not consider myself to be a high maintenance pregnant woman. I wanted a healthy baby, and I wanted to look back on the experience as hard but the best day of my life.  

Instead, with the birth of my first child, I jokingly have referred to it as both the best and worst day of my life. I entered the hospital in Danville, late August 13^th, 2011. I was a little over 41 weeks pregnant, my water had broken at home, and my contractions were never more than 3 minutes apart. Labor was fast and furious for my first baby, only lasting nine hours. 

 

During that time, I requested an epidural. I was under the impression I would receive an epidural, not a spinal block, since that is what I had requested, and staff had referred to it as such. Instead of a continuous drip epidural, I received a spinal block. Within minutes, I was still able to move around and feel much of my contractions, so the anesthesiologist attempted it again, only to provide relief for a short while. 

 

While the pain was harder than I expected with no way to decrease it, I was still able to focus on working through the pain and having my baby. My nurse at the time, Tony, was the best part of our experience at Danville. He was incredibly patient, encouraging, and welcoming to both me and my husband. I was in pain, yet I was secure in his care. 

 

Until I was 6-7 centimeters, and I started into the “transition” phase. The doctor on call, Dr. X, began to be more involved and present in my labor and delivery. My first interaction with him was telling him the spinal block had worn off, and gritting my teeth unable to talk through contractions. He made an offhand comment to my husband about me not being able to handle pain. When I was in full transition, at 9 centimeters, I was worn down, discouraged, and crying in pain during every contraction. I did not think I could continue, and my emotions were completely evident. At one point, I was grunting and screaming through a contraction, and he yelled that there would be “No crying! Absolute silence.” As my body struggled to progress from 9-10 centimeters, he attempted to quicken the process. I am unsure of what he was attempting to do as I am not a medical professional, whether stretch the last centimeter or finish the effacement manually, but he put his arm inside of me during a contraction, causing unbearable pain. I cried out for him to stop and let my body progress naturally, in broken speech, and he told me that he would not stop until I could tell him to stop three times in complete sentences. In that moment, I felt that if I did not do what he asked me to do, I and my baby were in danger. After all, he was the professional. He was the doctor, and he knew what he was doing. I did not. 

 

I did not want Dr. X in the room at that point, and when I expressed that, he said something about not being able to deal with me either, and he left the room. I was not offered another doctor or told that I had the option of not having him return. If I could have physically walked out, I would have. The nurse Tony encouraged me to look at him, and not Dr. X, that every woman reaches a point where she thinks she cannot do it, and to focus on this baby. 

 

When it came time to push, my son’s head was in the 100^th percentile. Without discussing it with me first, Dr. X did an episiotomy and attempted to use forceps to pull him out. At one point, he had his foot up on the bed, a bead of sweat dripping down his forehead, as he pulled with all of his might trying to get my son out. The forceps slipped off my son’s head, splattering a ribbon of blood across the ceiling. I remember focusing on that blood for the duration of my labor. He did another episiotomy in an attempt to get my son out. Finally, my son was born. My pushing lasted less than fifteen minutes. Looking back after having more babies, I would have preferred a longer time of pushing and less force. 

 

After my son was born, my husband cut the cord, and my baby was whisked away to the other side of the room, where the nurses began to care for him. I remember him screaming so loudly the entire time, and I was begging to hold my baby. Especially after they gave me pain medicine in my IV, and I felt myself slipping off to sleep, I wanted to hold my baby and see his face before I surrendered to sleep. I had to wait forty-three minutes before seeing and touching my completely healthy son for the first time. 

 

Overall, I trust my doctors. I understand that sometimes interventions are medically necessary, and I would never ask for an "experience" to take priority over mine and my child’s wellbeing. However, I do believe Dr. X made my experience traumatic when it did not have to be. His disdain for me was palpable, and he treated my labor and delivery like that of an animal’s-maybe with even less compassion. I remember wanting to prove to him that I was worth treating with dignity- “I’m young, but I am smart! I have degrees. I have a full-time job. I have insurance. I have worth!” While I am eternally grateful for a healthy baby, and I appreciate his efforts to bring my son into the world safely, he made the entire experience painful, scary, and traumatic, and I have yet to be able to understand the reason for this. 

 

After coming home, I did contact the hospital to file a complaint. I also was contacted a few weeks later for a survey of my experiences, which I answered honestly. Four years later, with my second pregnancy, I called the hospital to see if Dr. X would still be a possible on-call doctor for delivery. When I was told he would, I immediately called the hospital in Champaign to begin my pre-natal appointments there. I was unwilling to put myself in the position of possibly being in a vulnerable state with Dr. X again. 

 

I did not realize how traumatic my experience was until I had my second baby in Champaign. My doctor was encouraging, kind, expressive, and helpful. She told me everything she was planning to do, and she let me and my body have control of the entire process. She stayed forty-five minutes after her shift to deliver my baby, rather than letting me end my birth with a brand new doctor. She personally called me days after my delivery to make sure I was doing ok. I did have a 3^rd degree tear, but I did not even realize it until much later after birth. I had an epidural, and while I was still able to move my legs easily, my pain level was manageable. The staff celebrated us, encouraged my strength and emotional well-being, and truly showed us love throughout my entire labor, delivery, and time spent in the hospital post-partum.  

 

I was not able to breastfeed my first child, as he never latched. I was given a pamphlet of information before I left the hospital in Danville. I pumped exclusively for ten months. However, the lactation consultant in Champaign did not let me leave until my daughter was feeding well and took the time to teach me how to position her. 

 

When I became pregnant a third time, I did not even consider Danville as an option. I called the doctor I had in Champaign, and I repeated a very similar pregnancy and labor and delivery at Champaign in 2018. I am forever grateful to that doctor for those memories, and I have referred dozens of my friends and acquaintances to Champaign and away from Danville. 

 

Dr. X may have the knowledge and the skills to be a worthwhile physician; however, he did not live up to the Hippocratic oath to do no harm. He did harm me physically, mentally, and emotionally.