It’s not so much that he was gone but he left without even arranging or discussing with us what the options would be, I had nothing, no info regarding who would be my Doctor during the birthing process when to book a bed nothing. It doesn’t help that I am radically patriotic and here’s this man leaving on the eve of one of the most historic moments in our country, in-light of these issues I did what I do best, “ke ngadile”. Nothing explains better my decision than the S.Sotho description, I guess I’m used to Hubby asking after every fight “O ngadile?”. To put it simply I decided to hell with them I’ll take my business elsewhere, I say business cause unlike other couples Zenzile is an entereprenuer and I’m un-employed which means medical aid insurance is a luxury and debt is not a friend so we pay everything cash, even the R15K they wanted as a deposit for me to give birth at their hospital.
That Friday we set out to our local clinic to get the process started for us to give birth at a public hospital. When we got to the clinic at about 14h30 it was empty, how great we avoided the long queues of people. Unfortunately the told us they cant help us they only do ante-natal appointments Mondays to Wednesday’s beacause of the large amounts of people that visit the clinic each day ( did I mention it was empty) oh well, as twitter people say “shrug” we turned back.
On Monday June 07, I made sure to get there before the clinic opened, once I was able to see the nurse and I gave her all my paper work from my gynaecologist with all the blood tests etc that I had taken, I realised I was supposed to have had a tetnus vaccine and H1N1 flu vaccine that my Doctor negelected to administer, (twitter talk “smh”).
Once all was done I called Zenzile to pick me up, he was on line for worldcup tickets... I decided to walk home especially because I had been researching ways to naturally induce labour according to “Dr.Google” this was one of the ways. It took about 30 minutes to get home and all I remember of that day is passing out on the sofa as soon as I got there.
That night, June 08 2h30am at 38 weeks pregnant my water broke. I just remeber waking up to this liquid rushing out and I could not stop it. It was not red or brown as the magazines say but clear. So after debating on whether or not I had just wet the bed we decided to go to the hospital. So with my hair in perfect curls thanks to a feature in the womans health I had bought earlier, I put on some makeup got dressed and off we went. Five minutes into the trip and I started getting back pains (not painful enough to deter me from letting my friends on twitter know that labour had begun). When we got to the hospital after checking how far along I was I was given a bed and told to go to bed Zenzile was told to come back in the morning since I had a long way to go. By this time contractions had started and to tell you the truth I was happy to see Zenzile go as I needed to sleep. In the morning breakfast was served; Wors with tomato gravy and two slices plain brown bread (I gave it a pass). Not much later a number of student nurses came in and one came towards me and said I’ll take her ( I guess it meant I was her patient for the day), the Dr came a few minutes afterwards at about 8h30 to check how far along I was. It felt more like he was trying to pull the baby out and I screamed out in pain which led to one of the nurses commenting (in S.Sotho so Dr. couldn’t hear) that I must be the type who at the moment of orgasm screams so loud I wake the kids up. As soon as the Dr. Was done violating me and my poor child the security guard told me Zenzile was waiting for me, he couldnt come in so I had to go out to the waiting room, hardly able to walk, I went with my student nurse trailing behind me, she let him know i was 5cm dialated and would probably give birth around 16H00 so he can go home shower and come back at 11H00 when its visiting hours. Needless to say within an hour contractions where coming one on top the other, the whole martenity ward was listening to my screaming, calling for the lord to help me. At this point a nurse decided my screams that the baby is coming where not enough she had to check for herself so again I was violated this time I screamed so loud i think I had the entire hospitals attention.
In excruitiating pain, I was told to walk to the next room ( it was at this point where I felt like I had bit off my nose to spite my face, I could’ve had an epidural and none of this would be happening was I not so quick to prove a point). How can I explain the next ten minutes when Khaya was born; its like when they show the cow giving birth on tv, with the farmers pulling and you’re on the couch thinking “Oh my that calf is so big” well I was that cow. Today 3 weeks on, what feels like 50 stitches, 48 hours of sleep lost, and a set of numb nipples later as i type this with my khaya on my lap the question lingers; would i do this again? No!
The decision to have Khaya at a public hospital was easy for me because it’s where i had Khwezi, but i’ve realised birth at the age of 23 and birth at 29 are extremely different! I dont know what an epidural feels like but if you have a choice, get it. I on the other hand will never get that chance, if there’s anything this experience has taught me it’s; no more children for me.
