Here is third Episode of the series of birth story of an amazing Nigerian Mum Mrs. Priscilla Canice-obi.
The other 7 women had delivered their babies, some others had come into the labour ward but Priscilla was still in labour.
By this time, I had concluded, “God must have forgotten about me, he brought me to this point, he shut up my womb, took the keys and drove off. God must have deceived me in Isaiah 66:9, where He said “Do I bring to the moment of birth and not give delivery? Do I close up the womb when I bring to delivery?”
The doctor’s voice interrupted my thoughts again, “Priscilla, is your mom anywhere close by? I need her to come in here to encourage you”.
Hmm..You needed to have seen the pain and distress in my mother’s eyes the moment she saw me. Her own pain seemed to be greater than mine.
By this time, I had become a shadow of myself. She held my hands and encouraged me. She prayed with me and asked that God’s perfect will be done.
I mustered some weak courage and told her that I would soon have my baby.
And then she left me to continue my battle, I know she really hated the fact that she couldn’t fight this one battle for me.
Then the 4th pack of oxytocin (hot drip) was hung on the pole. This time, the speed at which the drip was set to transfuse into my body was the same speed Usain Bolt uses on the track.
The doctor started to use his hands to squeeze the pack of the drip just the same way a thirsty man will do with water in a sachet. This was about 8:00 pm in the night.
The contractions became extremely intense this time around and were coming in rapid successions. It felt like there was a war going on in my stomach.
The baby was pushing very hard to come out but my cervix was not dilating beyond 6cm (It needs to get to 10cm for a baby to be born).
After about one more hour, I lost it. All I knew was that I found myself running out of the labour ward stark naked with the rod on which the drip was hung in my hand.
The pain had obviously gotten into my head. And obviously, it had gone way past my pain threshold. Thankfully, I was stopped right before I opened the door to escape.
The nurses encouraged me and strengthened me. I saw deep concern in their hearts but there was nothing else they could do to help me. This was my personal battle. I had to fight it by myself. And then the labour continued.
Before anyone knew it, I started vomiting profusely. All the while, water was still gushing out of my vagina. Now, the more I vomited, the more water gushed out down there.
I lost so much body fluid that there was no drop of saliva left in my mouth and my tongue cleaved to the roof of my mouth.
My body became very pale. I began to shiver like a leaf in cold harmattan breeze. Shivering, vomiting and losing body fluid.
All I could remember saying at this point was, “…take me out of here, I need to leave this place.” I repeated this statement with dwindling strength and sound.
When next the doctor came in and saw me, it was already 11:00 pm. He shouted. He shouted because I was practically finished.
And so he commanded his team immediately, “Prepare this woman as fast as you can. She needs an emergency Caesarian Section performed on her immediately. Move quickly!”
When I heard those words, I said to myself with utmost disappointment, ‘So, this is how I failed at childbirth.’
PREPARATIONS FOR MY EMERGENCY C-SECTION
The preparations for my C-Section were done really fast. It was now a matter of life and death.
And at about midnight, I was being wheeled out of the labour ward into the theatre for an emergency surgery.
In the hallway, I saw my husband; he looked all white like a ghost. He was practically terrified. He was sore afraid.
He came to me while I was being wheeled, held me and said, ‘’Obiye (he calls me by my middle name which means companion), you have tried your best, I am so sorry.
You know I never supported you labouring for long, I don’t know why they didn’t listen to my plea all along. I love you so much. Please Obiye, promise me you will be fine.”
His words pierced my heart deeply as he kept on kissing and kissing me (That scene was like a scene in a romantic movie, we both still laugh over it today.)
My mum; she was so shocked when she saw me being wheeled out of the labour room that she couldn’t even talk. Her eyes were as red as the red in a traffic light. Then she mustered these words faintly…”It is well”
My husband was called to sign the papers permitting them to carry out the emergency surgery irrespective of any possible eventuality. His fingers were dancing out of tune as his signed the papers.
With that, all was set and I was wheeled into the theatre wondering what the outcome would be or if we (my baby and I) would even make it out alive.
In spite of all these, the ultimate question on my mind was, “Where is God?”
INSIDE THE OPERATING ROOM
The operating table seemed to be the loneliest place in the world. The theatre was extremely cold and full of terrifying medical gadgets.
There were all sorts of knives, scissors and several other instruments on one particular table. It was as if there was going to be a buffet, and obviously, I was the main dish.
Here I was, after all the long hours of writhing in excruciating pain…
And then it was time for the Anesthesiologists to do their job. They pierced a very painful injection right into my spine.
That was to deaden the lower part of my body so I wouldn’t feel any pain as the surgeon operates on me.
While they were doing this, my eyes fell on my doctor who was to operate on me. The young doctor had dozed off on the chair right inside the theatre while waiting for the anesthesiologists to finish their job!
I felt more pity for him than I actually worried for my safety to be sincere. The young doctor had been stressed from attending to so many patients that day. He had obviously overworked himself.
So, they woke him up from sleep to cut me open. Before he started work, he said to me, “Madam, Pray for Us”. I managed to pray some lines, all the while; I was shivering uncontrollably because of the cold environment plus the fact that I was naked.
He took his equipment to cut, and just then he said to me, “Raise up your leg”. I did. He asked me to raise the other, I did too. Everyone in the room shouted.
The anesthesia had failed! I wasn’t supposed to be able to do that if it had worked.
I still wonder today what would have happened if he had cut me open before discovering that.
Outside the theatre, my poor husband and mom were waiting, praying and wondering if all was going on well inside. I was later told that my husband was running after every nurse that passed by like those men do in Nollywood (Nigerian Film Industry) movies.
He kept promising himself that he would never allow me to give birth in this country again. As if it was the Nigerian flag that tied my cervix and delayed my labour. Lol.
Back inside the theatre, they had to repeat the spinal block. Very painful piercing, but this time, I was already used to pain. I was just hoping that we both survived; my baby and me.
The surgeon began his work, the supporting medical workers in the theatre were talking with me through the entire procedure, this really helped me relax and eased the loneliness.
Finally, the surgeon brought out my baby who had been struggling to be born for over 22 hours. I let out these words with a heavy sigh of relief “Thank you, Jesus”
Kendrick was the blackest newborn I had ever seen in my entire life. He didn’t look fine to me at all. They brought him to me to confirm his gender, and I did.
Everyone in the theatre was happy, I was happy too..but somewhere inside of me, a strange seed of bitterness which later led to depression had been planted!
I was angry at God.
To be continued…
Fasten your seat belt, the story is about to begin
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