Wednesday, August 18, 2010

BIRTH PART I (aka This is SO fun!)

I realize that for the rest of my life time will be measured by “before the baby” and “after the baby.’ I still call him “the baby.” That’s bound to get awkward at some point.

It was 4 in the morning and I was up walking around the room trying not to think about my stomach being ripped apart by contractions. Ken woke up and turned the light on. “The baby is coming today,” he said while putting on his glasses.
“I doubt it. This happens every night.”
2 hours later we were walking around the basement fighting contractions (by playing the alphabet game) that were coming every 6 minutes. I love that Ken thought to play a game. What a fun train of thought. You see, during my pregnancy I was thinking I was really brave and incredibly strong. I wanted to go “all natural.” I wanted to do most of the laboring at home and then go to the hospital to push the baby out. I thought that would be “fun.” I lasted until about 10:15 in the morning. At that point, after 6 hours and 15 minutes of contractions, I realized that Yeah. Ken is right. The baby is coming today. Contractions were 4 or 5 minutes a part lasting at least a minute and making impossible to think logically, stand up straight, and not throw up. When I started shaking uncontrollably and puking Ken said it was time to go to the hospital. I agreed. I kept saying to Ken, “Don’t speed. Don’t speed. I don’t want to get pulled over. Don’t speed.” In my head I was thinking, “Remember everything. This is your birth story. How cool is this?!” Ken apparently didn’t pay attention on our tour and I was too distracted by contractions to read any signs so- it took us a while to find labor and delivery. We got there and my sweet sweet nurse whom I will always love- and whose name I will never remember- asked me if I wanted any pain medications. I looked at Ken he was calling my mom and dad and his mom and dad to tell them we were at the hospital. “I don’t think so. We’re going to try this naturally.” She thought that was “nice.” She checked me and I was at a 7. 10 minutes later I got an epidural. She knew. Now, I know. Get the stinking epidural. Don’t be brave. I was brave for 7 hours. It’s overrated. Once the epidural sunk in and I was loving life I told Ken, “This is kind of fun!” A nurse came in and broke my water. She wheeled in a table with all the delivery tools on it and assured me the baby was on his way. Uh, duh. That’s why we are here. Ken and I were so excited. We figured- baby by 1 at the latest- all our family would come that afternoon- what a great and fun day.
1 o’clock came and went.
2 o’clock came and went.
3,4,5, and 6 o’clock came and went.
I was hurting. Even though I received an epidural there was a spot on the lower left side of my back that didn’t go numb. It was about the size of a ping pong ball. I felt a minute part of every contraction. Plus. Even if you can’t feel it your body is still working.
At 6:15 the nurse asked if I was ready to push. I felt really tired already. But, being asked that question brought a new energy.

1 comment:

Karlenn said...

I can't believe you dealt with contractions for six hours before getting the epidural. KILLER. You're brave. The shaking thing - that happened with Gage. I was just shaking through each contraction, certain I would die this time.