With Regards To Labor and Delivery

I just wanted to add something or, rather, emphasize something with regards to my labor and delivery story from a few days ago. Laboring at home for as long as possible was the best thing I ever did.
Right up until the moment I got in the car to go to the hospital, I was folding laundry, packing a hospital bag for my DH, playing with my son, checking my e-mail, blogging, and watching videos online that my sister was trying to entertain me with. It was not a panicked, clinical experience with people standing over me and monitoring me. It was almost enjoyable-- except for the pain. I was able to get into whatever positions I wanted to get through contractions. I could move around at will from room to room. I could eat and drink, and I did, knowing that I wouldn't be able to until after I had the baby and then only at the next hospital mealtime.
Maybe I was only able to do this because my contractions did not get really bad until the very end, but I have no point of comparison since I didn't go into labor naturally last time so I don't know what it's like otherwise.
Maybe I said all this already. But it makes me so happy to think about it.

Baby Bumpless: The After-Birth Belly

I should have done a day-by-day photograph of my belly. I'll have to do it next pregnancy. I'm talking now about my post-pregnancy belly. On the day after birth, it sagged like an enormous misplaced boob over where my waistband would have been had I not been clad in a hospital robe. By day 2 it hadn't changed much. On day three, by the time I came home from the hospital, it had regressed significantly. I still had a soft mushy belly, but it looked like the soft mushy belly of a soft mushy person.

Looking at pictures of myself from a day or two after that, I can see that I still looked a bit pregnant. However, within the fist week, I was already able to feel that I had a waist again. It was a very good feeling. I keep putting my hands there because I can't believe it. What a feeling! A waist.

Now, about two and a half weeks after delivery, my stomach is soft and mushy still but it's not so protruding anymore. I probably look like I could stand to lose a few pounds-- and I probably can. I only weighed myself once, and that was within a week of delivery. My stomach was down but my weight was still about twenty pounds more than my pre-pregnancy starting point.

Another thing is that I normally have very prominent hipbones. I wouldn't say that they are prominent now but I can feel them again. I also feel like my thighs and legs are on their way back to being what they were before I gave birth. I still think my butt looks big, but I've learned that a big butt is not necessarily a bad thing. Fashion models may have nearly nonexistent bottoms, but I think a little bit of roundness on a girl is a nice feature. I am normally quite angular.

My face has thinned out. DH observed that women who are about to give birth tend to bulk up around the face. I noticed this in a friend of mine as well who's about 37 weeks right now. She's a thin girl with a tiny bloop of a belly but her face looks swollen. Mine was like that towards the end, but it's thinned out now.

All this is without exercise or any special dieting. In fact, I just finished consuming an ice cream pop. I was all ready to start going shopping and wandering about town after the baby was born but then she got sick with fever at one week and landed in the hospital for three days. Of course, I went with her. We were all but quarrantined in our room. You don't want to wander around a germy children's ward with a newborn. I was totally paranoid about germs that whole time and also totally sedintery. I had DH bring me my yarn and I sat and crocheted the whole time. Ever since then, DH doesn't want me to take her out until she's at least a month and even when he's home, which isn't so often lately, it's hard for me to leave her b/c I'm breastfeeding. Pumping is an option but it's hard to find the opportunity.

Anyway, the point is that my body does seem to want to get back to its normal self. Now if only I could help out by getting some exercise.

I'm Back With A Baby - My Labor and Delivery Story

For those of you who have been waiting with baited breath since my last blog posting, I apologize for nearly two week's delay. I could blame it on new motherhood, but that would be stretching the truth by about three days and I have about twelve days to account for. I have a very good excuse for the last four days which I'll share in another post.

When you last saw me, I was having contractions at home. They started in the morning after I noticed bloody show overnight. They were light and not really painful. DH had an exam in the afternoon and I took at walk and picked up DS from nursery, after which I went out for a falaffel and then stopped by the flower shop on the way home to pick up a thank-you gift for our friends who helped us out when I had that fever the week before. I even ran into them at the top of the street and they didn't notice anything. I didn't say anything.

Contractions started coming harder later in the afternoon. I would have to pause between blogging or cleaning or whatever I was doing, let it pass, and then go on. DS woke up and was climbing all over me. My sister arrived eventually and still I didn't want to go to the hospital, even though I knew (though I wasn't reporting to the waiting parties) that according to the five-minute rule, I should have gone already.

Laboring at home was the best thing I could have done. I wasn't being monitored or checked constantly. Nobody was holding me down or watching me or sticking needles in my arm. Nothing was strapped to me. I found a position or two that was ideal for waiting out contractions (on my hands and knees on the couch with my head on the armrest.) It was all very calm and, though I wouldn't quite call it pleasant, I can say that it was ideal conditions.

The contractions started getting bad and sweetly and without pressure, DH inquired when we would be leaving for the hospital. He was nervous that he'd have to do the job himself. I finally allowed him to convince me to leave the house when my water broke.

And then came the hardest part-- emotionally-- of the whole experience. I had to say goodbye to DS who I was seeing for the last time as an only child. Even thinking about it now is difficult. Fortunately, he had fallen fast asleep and didn't know that I spent more than a few moments lying beside him, stroking his hair, and apologizing. I know, I know, giving him a sibling is the best gift of all etc etc but it was still really tough on me. I knew that things were about to change forever. I'm not so good with change.

We ended up going to a different hospital than I had planned on since it was easier to walk to from our house and we wanted access. It's the same hospital where I gave birth to my son (after torturous procedures and interventions) nearly two years ago. It's not that the staff was bad. It's just that I had a bit of an emergency situation that time and it resulted in a very difficult birth.

I had awful contractions after that, and being in the car was pure torture. It's hard to relax into a contraction when you're strapped in to a bucket seat. Still, I was cautioning DH all the while to drive more carefully. The hospital is only 5 minutes away and though I could feel that the time to start pushing was near, I kept the news from him because he was already really nervous. He parked the car while an attendant helped me into a wheelchair and took a few details from me. I was going to refuse the chair but then I realized I had to get upstairs fast because the baby was on its way. DH arrived and we took off at a madcap down the hallway and up the elevator.

I was greeted at the labor ward by a midwife who made me get on a bed and strapped a monitor across my belly despite my protests. "We have to know how the baby is doing" she said. I hate that. The baby was on its way out one way or the other. In the meantime I was expected to lie obediently in whatever positions they commanded of me? There was no way. Honestly, there are times in life it's okay to not be cooperative. Oh, and then they did that awful thing where they check how dilated you are. I HATE IT. There were only two times I screamed during the entire process, and checking my cervix was one of them. It hurts and also just plain bothers me more than any other thing they do. Apparently I have a very very long canal and they need to dig right in there to get at it. I refused it all through the other checks in my pregnancy. It also bothers me even now-- just thinking about it makes me cringe.

I was four centimetres. FOUR? FOUR? No way I was only four.

When they finally got me into the delivery room, I did what I never intended to do: I climbed up on the bed and lay on my back. And by the way, I was fully dialated. Ten beautiful centimetres. I don't remember them checking me at that point. Maybe they just had a glance and could see... I don't know. Anyway, by that point there was no holding back.

Oh yes, that was after they insisted on replacing my clothes with a hospital gown, which I suppose I should be grateful for in terms of laundry, but I had no interest in at the time. The reason I was on my back is that it's just the position I ended up in and I was in too much pain to change it at that moment. Also, I was comfortable. Also, I knew the baby was on it's way out. I could feel it. It was all very intense.

At some point, and I didn't realize this until later on, the pain turned to tension. Every muscle in my body was coiled up. Whenever the midwife wanted me to change position even a little bit-- shift up, shift down, move my legs, hold my knees, whatever, it's not that I couldn't do it, but it took enormous effort to realign any muscle in my body at all. It's like they were melted in position. Even when DH or the midwife tried shifting me just a little, I protested. The biggest movement I made was some shifting and once I flipped over on my side, which is apparently a preferred position over the supine one. Talking was also really hard. I mostly used hand motions or whispered to DH who then translated to the midwife. The only motion I was happy to consent to was pushing.

This tension had been building with every contraction to the point that I couldn't relax in between contractions. I needed more time than I had. But that was somehow okay. Because like I said, what I was feeling wasn't exactly pain. I wasn't feeling comfortable, but it was way better to be like this than having regular contractions. The only problem was that it was very difficult for me to tell when it was time to push. So I just guessed.

The mood in the room, if I remember correctly, was pretty relaxed. I had chosen what they call the 'natural birthing room,' which is basically called that because it contains a radio, a shower stall, and a hippie-style floor lamp. This is in contrast with the 'natural birthing room' in the hospital I originally inteded to go to, which contained a jacuzzi, a neat-looking purple bed, wood panelling, and who knows what else.
I guess I guessed well, because the midwife kept telling me that things were progressing. I can see the top of the head. I can see the top of the head. It's coming, just a few more pushes... I believed her and also my husband when they said these things, but I was getting really tired. I just wanted to wrap it up for the evening and come back the next day to try some more. I pushed for twice as long in my last birth. I guess that God gives you strength for what you need when you need it.

I had my husband on one side and the midwife on the other (and yest, a monitor on my belly but that stopped bothering me after a little while) And when they kept telling me it was just one or two more pushes away and then I heaved one or two more pushes and it didn't come out, I started to get really tired. But then I decided that I really could be working a little harder-- not that it was any picnic up until that point, but I hadn't given it my abesolute all until then. Not the of medal-winning, baby delivering all that maybe was required.

So I geared up, got ready to give it everything I had, and screamed. The stupid midwife had her fingers in there and was massaging oil around. Now, I know that the midwife is supposed to do that, and it's supposed to help ease the baby out and prevent tearing, but I'll say something here that might shock and appal you: I would prefer the pain of tearing over having her fingers in there. Really and truly. Okay, really and truly as long as it's not a third degree tear. But she could have warned me. Or at least asked me. You don't just stick your fingers up someone's hoo-hoo without warning. I don't care what the circumstances are. I HATE HATE HATE that feeling. It makes me crazy. I screamed for her to stop but she said something about her having to do it so I had DH (DEAR, DEAR Husband) explain to her that I really meant it. Also, all the rubbing and the horrible disturbance it caused me (again, I shudder to think of it) distracted me from the business of birthing. I couldn't push while she was doing that. I couldn't at all. It was very counter productive. I was ready to kick her in the face. But I couldn't move my legs on my own and I don't think she would have happily helped me to do it. If any readers feel the same way about this, I would be happy to know that I'm not alone here.

To give her credit, this is a perfectly normal procedure for midwife to be doing and I'm probably the first person ever ever to tell her to stop. In fact, I was probably the first person in the hospital ever to be uncooperative during labor, so it stands to reason that she was doing what she was doing without any guilty feelings at all. She was actually pretty nice and respectful and definitely knew what she was doing. But at that moment, I hated her.

With that crisis over, I geared up once again for the Big Push. I pushed once, I pushed twice, I though to myself, 'push harder, let's get this over with!' and I gave it another huge push-- then I heard 'stop pushing!' I cant! I couldn't stop pushing remember, my body wasn't entirely in my controll. But it was all okay. A couple of seconds later I heard a cry and saw the midwife pulling the baby out and placing her on my chest.

I didn't have this pleasure with the birth of DS. His cominng-out was a lot more hectic and they took him straight to get weighed and measured and wrapped. I did get to hold him and feed him before they took him off to the nursery, but it wasn't immediate contact.

The first thing I noticed was how huge and heavy she felt, all curled up on my chest. To tell the truth, at that moment I was so weak that I don't think I would have been able to support a cup of coffee with my bare hands but I had a bed underneath me and holding me up so I was able to handle this little baby girl. I put my arm on her. She felt nice. I liked her. I got to hold her that way for a little bit and then they took her to clean and wrap her up. The midwife asked if I wanted to hold her again, but I told her that I didn't think I could.

It was time to deliver the placenta. I said no way. I can not push one more single thing out of me today. Let's do it tomorrow. But the midwife gave a big heave on my stomach (again, I wanted to slap her. Doesn't she know what I've just been through?) and with a few gentle pushes, I was able to get the thing out of me. They spread it out on the cart to get a look at it. It didn't look to me like you could tell anything from it, but what do I know?

At that point, I was shaking so hard I felt like I was riding a lawnmower. I was assured by various personel wandering through my room at that point that it was completely normal and not to worry. So I didn't worry but I did continue to shake. I also asked to be covered with a sheet. Just because I finished giving birth doesn't mean I want to sit around with my legs open for all the world to see. I don't care if they're doctors.

I can't remember if cutting the cord came before or after delivering the placenta. DH wanted to do it but I think he was also a bit weak and couldn't get a good grip on it with the scissors so he declined.

And then came the stitching up. I had a second degree tear. Whatever. It was superficial she said. Whatever. It was over. I consulted my watch. The whole thing, from the time of my arrival at the hospital, had taken under two hours. Under and hour forty-five. The baby had done her part, I had done mine, DH and midwife had done theirs. We had done well. We have a new daughter.

Kicking Is Contracting

Had a very-late-pregnancy checkup today. In fact, it's my due date. They put a heart monitor on me for half an hour which revealed that what I've been thinking are kicks are actually contractions. Just painless ones. The ultrasound showed the baby active and in place, which is good. I am really counting on a natural childbirth this time. The doctor wanted to do an internal examination but I wouldn't let her. I didn't see any point. If I'm not painfully contracting and we saw on the ultrasound that things are hunky-dory then I'm going to wait them out. The Dr. (who was very nice and didn't try to pressure me but did spend a few minutes trying to convince me) said that if I am already five centimeters dilated then they'll just keep me there (my checkup was at the hospital) and I'd have the baby. This makes no sense to me. While it's possible that I could be dialated already and without any pain whatsoever, it's really really unlikely. There is no way I'm going to give myself over to the hospital and submit to all kinds of exams and poking and prodding until I absolutely have to. Besides, my plan is to give birth in another hospital altogether.

A friend of mine was due the same time as me. She went into labor late last week in the same hospital. She ended up with a C-section. She progressed nicely to 6cm and then stopped. The baby never descended. I stopped by to see her today while I was there. She's looking good-- it's a few days later-- and she says the baby's fine. I didn't see him. C-section is one of my nightmares, but I guess in many cases it's necessary.

Sick Sick Sick - Pregnant With a Fever.

I guess I must have been pushing my pregnant body too hard on that day. I didn't really realize how tired I was until the late afternoon. We went a family trip in the morning and spent a good chunk of time wandering around and in the sun. The car ride itself was very crampy and tiring for me, not to mention hot. When we got home I prepared coffee and snacks for our guests and that was when I started to realize just how much I wanted to lie down. When I finally did fall into my bed a little while later, I all of a sudden started shuddering and shaking, groping for the sheet on our bed in 40 degree heat (that's about 90 or so for all you farenheit fans). I called my husband to bring me another blanket and then another. I was definitley feverish.

It's really scary to be this sick when you're this pregnant. I had no idea what was wrong with me. The shakes eventually went away but I still needed the protection of my blankets. After a while I shed the blankets as well and used just the sheet. A shower made me feel much better, but that was all the getting out of bed I did that evening-- oh, and I got up a couple of hours later to eat a bit of dinner.

I was nervous to go to the hospital, though that was definitley an inclination because of how worried we were. The thing is, I know that at this very late stage in the pregnancy, they wouldn't hesitate to just take the baby out either by c-sectoin or inducing-- probably the former-- if there was even the smallest sign of danger. It's easier for them. But it's definitely not something I wanted. So we decided to wait it out, at lest for a few hours. I'm glad we did. By the morning I felt much better. I was pretty much back to normal though I made sure to take it easy for the rest of the day. And since then I've been trying to avoid anything that is too physically stressful. I've learned my lesson well. The fever, we deduced later, was due to heat exhaustion.

Off With My Rings

With apologies to my husband, I took off my wedding rings today. I usually don't like to take them off at all and leave them at home. I feel that they are safest when they are on my fingers. But lately I haven't been able to get them off and they're starting to irritate my fingers and leave indentations where the swelling has gotten to be too much. So this morning I realized I had just enough squeeze space to slip them off, and that's what I did with a touch of hand cream for lubrication. It's been a few hours but the indentation is still there.

I was worried that in a worst case scenario my fingers would really really swell or else I'd have to go to the hospital for some procedure and then it would really be a problem. I think I wore them through my last birth. I remember having difficulty removing them only towards the end of the pregnancy but even then it wasn't so bad.

DH made fun of me for apologizing to him over taking them off. He is not sentimental about things like this (though I'm sure he's glad I wear them on a regular basis.)

Biding My Time 'till Baby

Despite certain discomforts (big belly, big feet, painful cheek), I am not in any rush for this baby to come out. I want it to come at the right time, in a natural way. Because of the nightmare with my last baby-- he was induced and it was horrible-- I don't care if I go all the way to 42 weeks. I just want it to happen naturally. Also, I want to know what the experience of having a baby feels like without all the added drugs and tubes and monitors. I want to know how I handle it. Will I break down and ask for an epidural like I did last time after several hours of non-retreating pain due to the artificially introduced hormones? Will the baby come quick and easy? I want to know. But I don't want to know until the baby is ready to come out. I always harbor some sense of guilt that we pulled DS out before he was ready to go. I am reconciled to the fact that he may have been in distress and that it was the best way to go at the time, but there are always the vestiges of heart over mind to deal with.

Hospital Bag

I packed my hospital bag last night. I'm not going to carry it around with me everywhere. But at least if I don't leave for the hospital from home I won't have to count on anyone finding me the right stuff and bringing it to me. I made sure to take an excess of underwear. That's what I was missing last time. I must have gone through five pairs-- just in labor!! I had a long labor, though. Counting on a shorter one this time with my 2nd.
I also packed wet wipes because they were really stingy with them in the last hospital I went to. Even today I can't use just one or two wet wipes to clean my son's bum. I mean, it depends on the situation, but one or two just doesn't cut it. I had to buy them from the hospital gift shop last time just to maintain some sanity.
I packed snacks because they don't let you eat past a certain point in labor. But if I'm there for a while I totally plan on sneaking in food while nobody's looking. How people go through long labors without eating is a mystery to me. The nurse even tried to give me an enema last time but I flat-out refused. I know some women told me they wished they'd had one because they couldn't poop afterwords but that wasn't a problem for me and once I heard the words 'turn over', I was pretty darn suspicious about what they were planning on doing. Ech. The thought of it makes my stomach squirm. Ech.
I packed a book. I actually did a lot of reading last time while waiting for my contractions to pick up speed. Also I read a lot afterwords in between feedings and things.
I don't think I packed anything else terribly unusual-- a bottle of water, gum, stuff... I did't pack any stuff for baby because I figure someone will just bring it over for me when I need it. Besides, it's hot. The baby can go home in a diaper in this weather (spoken like a true non-newbie mom...)

Pregnancy, Sinusitis and Me

Prior to going to the hospital yesterday, I actually had a doctor's appointment for my terrible sinus pain. (With all the hubub of having DS in the room with me, I totally forgot to ask her about the edema. If you think of it, the higher likelyhood of edema and sinus pain in pregnancy stem from the same problem-- water retention. This has definitely been a problem in this 2nd pregnancy of mine. I'm hoping that a lot of the weight I gained is just water.

My sinus pain has been excrutiating. At times it has me moaning and walking around holding my face. Tylenol provided some relief but at really bad times it just takes the edge off, it doesn't make the sinus pain go away. It's not always terrible, but when I have a flare-up, it is just horrible horrible horrible. I can't do anything. I can't sit, stand, or lie down. The pain keeps me from talking comfrotably. I can't concentrate on anything else. It wakes me up if I'm asleep. I find that it usually creeps up on me when I'm doing something that doesn't require moving my head around too much. Driving is a big culprit. So is reading. Using the computer, for some reason, isn't that bad.

Last night for the first time I tried putting ice on it. I hadn't tried it before because anything touching that side of my face when it hurts makes me feel worse. But after the initial shock of the cold, the ice actually managed to soothe the pain in the nerve running along my jaw, which is where all the sinus pain radiates from. The first thing you would try if you are not pregnant is decongestants. But they are strictly forbidden during pregnancy. I'm going to have to try some natural remedies for sinusitis such as vapor inhalation and nostril flushing. Also cutting out dairy and wheat products which contribute to the development of mucous.

Anyway, back to the doctor. I finally went to see her and she gave me antibiotics for it-- amoxicylin-- which is supposed to be safe for pregnant women, but which didn't make me any less nervous to take it. I even called my OB and confirmed with him that it was OK. It was. It is. Which made me feel slightly better about it. The truth is that I have to do SOMETHING about this sinus pain, pregnant or not, because at times it renders me completely non functional, not to mention the complete agony I feel.

Here's the irony between my leg swelling (which doesn't hurt, btw) and the sinus trouble. The radiologist who scanned me for blood clots yesterday at the hospital reminded me that if I sleep on my left side, it should help the swelling in my leg. Well, because of the sinusitis I can only lie on one side for so long before the pain starts and then I have to flip to the other side, whcih causes the pain to subside temporarily but makes my leg swell up. This doctor said that it's better even to lie on my back than to lie on my right side. That was a fist for me. EVERYONE says not to lie on your back in pregnancy. But apparently lying on your right actually blocks blood flow while lying on your left allows it. Lying on your back is only bad if it causes you discomfort. I don't have discomfort from lying on my back so I tried it out last night. It wasn't as good at relieving the pain as flipping from side to side, but I had my ice pack, and between the two, I managed to get a few good hours of sleep.

My Brush With DVT

Deep Vein Thrombosis basically means that there is a blood clot in your vein. I don't have it. I know this because I just returned from the hospital where my leg (in addition to my abdomen-- just for fun) was ultrasounded. Pregnant women are at high risk for DVT. It's one of the reasons they tell you to get up and walk around all the time. One of the indications of DVT is swelling in one foot and not the other, which is what I had. Well, actually I have swelling in both feet but one of them is a lot more significant, depending on the time of day. I called my doctor and he said I might as well go to the hospital and check it out.

At the hospital they did a bunch of tests before they ever got around to looking at my balloon foot. Urine stick, blood pressure and temperature, and then heart monitor. The doctors on call-- well, one of them-- remembered me from having given birth there not too long ago. I didn't mention that I'm planning on another hospital this time. Not because they were bad in particular. I just had a tough birth and want a fresh experience that is not in a place I associate with all this trauma from last time.

But I digress. I was wheeled down to Radiology in a chair. I should have felt embarrassed-- I have no problem walking-- but I decided to enjoy my chariot ride. When the radiologist came to fetch me, he found me reading with my feet up against the railing. He scanned only my thigh and not below. He said that if there are any significant clots, that's where they are. Clots lower than the knee aren't considered dangerous. When he didn't find anything he sent me back up for discharge sans wheelchair. Now that I was clear of DVT I'd have to fend the elevators by myself.

Preview

Today I happened to be in the hospital where I intend to give birth, which is different than the hospital where I gave birth in my first pregnancy. The reason I'm switching for my second pregnancy is that I don't think I can face those doctors again... not that they're likely to recognize my face. Just kidding. I've seen them since and they did remember me-- shows you what a model patient I was. Or what a squeaky wheel. I can't believe I just called myself a patient. I wasn't sick, I was giving birth... that's the problem with hospital births in general, I guess.

Anyway, this hospital was, I think, a step above the last one I went to for a couple of reasons. First of all, they have what they call a 'natural birthing room' which, as far as I can tell, basically has a nicer, upgraded bed and a bathroom with a jacuzzi. The decor is also wood paneled instead of hospital-grade sterile, which makes it a little nicer, warmer, a little less... clinical. It's in the same hallway as all the other birthing rooms. I guess they revamped this one as a little experiment in birthing. The only thing is that if you decide that you want to get an epidural, you have to move across the hall to one of the regular birthing rooms. Fair enough.

One of my major problems with the hospital I was at last time is that there was nowhere to be but in my room. There was no sitting or lounge area for moms to entertain their families and friends who came to visit. I had to host people in my little room along with my roommate whose giving birth drew out the entire village to come and bring her cakes, it seems. I ended up sitting with my guests in the hallway waiting area where we could actually sit and talk without the craziness of visiting hour pandemonium. Also, the room I was originally put in was very small. Really, it was only big enough for one bed and a bassinet. We couldn't have had both babies in there at once. I eventually got transferred to a bigger room (remember, I was there for 5 days waiting for my DS to get over vacuum-induced jaundice, which at the end of the day made all the difference and brought me close to the brink of madness.) This bigger room also featured a slightly better window-- it had one, but it looked out over the inner sanctum of the hospital, which is built in a ring. I didn't even have the window-side bed.

This other hospital has a communal dining area so you don't have to eat on your bed and you don't have to hustle to make sure there are no bloody sheets or clothes hanging around for when your husband's friends show up. Also, it makes you feel less like a patient and more like a woman who has just given birth. The rooms are less good-- they're for either two or three people, which is a bit crowded. However, if you're lucky then you'll score a window-side bed with a view AND privacy. The window beds are separated by a wall from the other roommates. It's a good thing I did this tour. Now I know what to ask for if I end up going there. Also, the staff seemed really nice and sweet. They were pretty ok in the last hospital too, and also more professional-looking (which does mean something) but there was one monster, b*&^h nurse on the birthing floor and one like that (who eventually softened up but started out mega super b^%$y) in the recovery area who really got to my pre and postpartum hormonal self a couple of times.