Reflecting Back to OB/Peds: My First Baby

Well, I can’t say that the baby is actually my own. But the kid did take my virginity of witnessing a live birth. So, when I actually do have a child of my own, it won’t be so surprising…sorry future child.

It wasn’t what I expected it to be. I guess you can say that social media and the movies really implant your pre-existing ideas. I wasn’t in there for long. I certainly wasn’t in the room for 12-13 hours, as Dr. Huxtable would come back saying after a long day. Once the mother starting to actually crown, the rest of the stages of the birthing process literally only took 30 minutes. There was hardly any screaming either. The mother had the stone cold face of a lifetime. The kind of face a man gives when taking the largest dump of his life. Obviously, the pain is incomparable. And this was the mother’s first born. Then again, everyone is different, I suppose.

It wasn’t as graphic, as I thought it would be either. The OB nurses working on the case worked swiftly and confidently. I was standing, opposite of the husband, holding one of the mother’s legs into the deep McRobert’s position. I wondered what the guy was thinking, though, I didn’t really look at the husband much. Let’s be real, the man’s part in the process is hardly relevant at this point. Nursing textbooks would say otherwise, obviously. Lol. I wonder if he was pissed that my eyes were literally balls deep in his girlfriend’s vagina. You mad bro? Hell, it’s not like the mother wasn’t attractive. Hell, I’d tap it, if we weren’t so inclined in the current situation. Lol. Milf’s need love too. ANYWAY…let’s keep the professionalism going. Lol.

Once the doctor came in, he placed a biohazard trash bag underneath the mother’s bottom and guided the delivery. Then I thought, here it comes…the blood bath of the century. However, it wasn’t like that at all. Once the baby’s body finally came out, that’s when like a half a liter of blood squirted out, all at once. The mother didn’t even need an episiotomy. I suppose her shit was all kinds of loose, before this. #damn. #ratchet. #somean. Lol. It’s all in good fun. To sum it all up, you can say that I expected a much more dramatic and exciting entrance.

Fortunately, as a student, I was in charge of the immediate assessment and intervention of the newborn…under supervision of course. At least I wasn’t face planting on the side lines. I took the baby and placed him immediately under the heater, wiped him off, etc. I assessed him, using the APGAR scoring system: appearance, pulse, grimace, activity, respirations. I got to record his body measurements, and of course his weight. Very basic stuff. Finally, I got to drop the erythromycin prophylactic ointment into the kids eyes and shoot him up with the Vitamin K in his vastus lateralis. I gave the kid a score of 9.

Finally, I got to see the placenta. I messed around with that for a couple minutes. That was pretty cool. It looked like a big heavy loose sponge, to say the least. I poked at it a few times, as if I was a curious kid poking at jello for the first time. Ran that clinical experience #likeaboss. Lol.




Author: nursesarereal

My nursing professor once said that keeping a journal, over time, will allow me to see growth. In myself? I’m not sure yet. I’m hoping. I like to believe that nursing school saved my life. Maybe I’ll have some fun doing this. Cheers.

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