Birth Story

I was ten days overdue, so I went to the hospital to have my labor induced. After a short argument with the doctor in which I non-judgementally explained a few cultural differences in my medical training and how those differences explained my preferences, I was over-ruled. The doctor explained her position by repeating her opinion over and over again until, in a desire to keep the staff on my good side for when I needed them later, I relented. Even though I had completely failed this method of induction with my previous labor, we were going to induce labor with something called a "contraction cocktail": apricot juice and castor oil. This potent concoction is supposed to cause diarrhea and stimulate the uterus to contract and bring on labor. The cocktail, I had read, is generally made with the additional ingredients of schnapps and creme...so I asked where my schnapps was. They laughed at me ( as if this were the funny part!). I was in the hospital, don't you know! You get the low-fat, non-alcolholic version.

This very dangerous drink ( which again had no results and no side effects) requires nearly continuous fetal heart rate monitoring - starting the very moment you hold the cup in your hand!!
After the drink, it was lunch time! Germany is a wonderful country and I have come to love the place deeply. I will miss this place sincerely. I would not recommend the hospital food. If you later experience gastric distress who's to say if it was the main course or the beverage?!
Well, after a few hours of heart tracings, we were told to go on a walk. We continued this pattern until 10 pm. If you have to stay in the area of the hospital, there aren't too many places to go. We were bored and restless. And extremely annoyed. We tried to make it feel like it was a date or a vacation from the children...but come on, going shopping at "Mister Lady" and then going back to the hospital for two more hours of fetal heart rate tracings just isn't that exciting.
We spiced it up a bit by purchasing some Easter egg dye in advance at "McPaper". But that didn't take up too much time. At 10pm, we were told we had to wait until the next morning for the next step because they wouldn't want to "overstimulate" my uterus. I guess Eric just wasn't quite ready to come out, because my extreme rage and frustration also did not cause the onset of contractions.

The next morning, they gave me a few drops of pitocin. We played rummy. A caring midwife explained that she felt it was her job to protect me from overmedication. She described her philosophy as "careful and held-back". I responded that I would describe my philosophy as " impatient and aggressive". So they broke my water. Then a whole bunch of stuff happened, during which we neglected to take pictures.

Three hours later, Eric was born! They placed him directly on my chest and I nursed him.
They weighed him, but did not bathe him because it causes too much distress. The pediatrician checked him out. We were both declared "okay" and were asked if we wanted to go home. "Hell, yes!", I responded, only politely and in German.
Now he is such a sweetheart and nurses so well that we have almost forgiven him the extra 11 days. Apricot juice may always annoy me.