Monday, May 16, 2011

and he arrived


It had been planned for me to walk in those hospital doors on a Monday morning and pop out a baby. Being the fourth child I was having, it was weird that it didn't feel like it was real. The first two, I was in labor, no going back, baby was coming whether I liked it or not. The third, was a c-section, planned. But this.... this was my first induction, while attempting a VBAC- since I clearly love a challenge, why not do it this way.

I am all set, walking into the hospy in my shorts and tank top, get to my fabulous pop-a-baby-out suite, when the nurse informs me they have no wifi. HUH! Who doesn't have wifi! I of course have to tell her that my viewers will be disappointed in the fact that I will no longer be streaming the live feed of my son's birth, complete with chewing through the cord and placenta shooters at the end. I believe she gave me the mother of all WTF looks. Success!

Because of the fact that I have a previous scar from my c-section, they decided to start pitocin, a low dose. I guess you can go up to 26 on the pitocin elevator, but in my case, we were going to.....4. I like them playing it safe. Previously at my doc appt I had been 2 cm dilated, she checked me and I was a 1....almost 1 and a 1/2. Seriously, what the backpeddling up my cervix? How, why... what! SO now I had 9 cms to go. It's like starting a 26 mile race, 27 miles away.

Around 11, they started the IV for fluid and pitocin. But she blew the vein on the first try. ANd then the second try, there was too much scar tissue. Thats right, I have scar tissue on the sides of my wrists. I think she might have thought I was a crack addict. Who has scar tissue like that... but me. She was kind enough to be a quitter and call a different nurse in. Of course they all told me I had beautiful veins. Well unless this was a damn blood taking contest, beautiful veins were getting me nowhere and I would have appreciated a trohpy and a crown. Or a big fat margarita because this was hurting. Nurse #2 blew the next vein. I tried to walk out the door on that note but the assless gown stopped me from traveling far. Nurse #3 got one in on the first try. I think I proposed to her after that. Being a voo doo doll was not a good way or sign to start my final birthing experience.

Within an hour or so, my water broke. I was laying in bed, actually sleeping, when the slimy sensation hit. Never having my water break on its own before, I was a little surprised, and disgusted. Because now, in order to use the bathroom, I had to unplug the monitors, drape them over my neck, unplug the pressure cuff, let it fall down to my wrist like a stylin bracelet, grab my iv pole and tubes, hold up my chucky pad like a diaper and waddle my big ol belly to the bathroom. I was constantly sporting a sweat 'stache every time I got out. Jillian Michaels be jealous.

My contractions were all in my back, and never in the front. I was way more comfortable standing up until.... lightning bolts started shooting down my legs. Really? My whole body needed to get some points on the pain scale? My thighs would burn as the contraction released, and all I could think of was that my wiring was wrong, and I would find out at 33 that my hip bone was connected to my uterus bone. (and I would also be the first person to have a uterus bone)

I then commited the crunchy mother cardinal sin- I asked... more liked pleaded... for an epidural. I was dead set against it. Not because a bunch of moms on some internet board said not to, but because I had one before and HATED it. I told them when I walked in the doors that the whole needle in the back was not my style, I was more like shoot-em-up-between-the-toes-so-no-one-knows kind of gal. (disregard that last comment, it's not true, just funny..don't go callin CPS on me)

Dr. Epidural came in and we became friends once he started cracking one liners. Until he had my curl over like a cat, and kept telling me to curl more. I think he forgot that I had a basketball in the way and that was about curled as this pissed off cat was going to get. Meanwhile these radioactive contractions were rollin down the pike about every minute and a half and I swear when he inserted the needle, that's when the mother of all contractions would hit. Didn't happen that way, just my over active imagination at it's finest. I realize no one would give me a cookie or star or tiara for going without meds, or for having a c-section. I did what worked for me, with this kid. I learned long ago that medical intervention can be necessary, and can be voluntary. I chose this and hands down would do it again. Read on for why my va jay jay- er I mean-I am so glad I had an epidural.

That glorious stuff started working right away. They showed me a little pain pump I was going to get to push and everything. I was excited until the nurse checked me and I was at four. 4! That.is.all? It is now past 6 o clock, but really only 4? I could cry.

The burning started. Intense, strange burning in my kookaracha. Like someone cut me with a million knives and then threw a habanero pepper doused in salsa up there. I looked at the nurse and asked her exactly what was burning... and why I could feel it? Seeing how I had that special wonder drug dripping in my back, uh...wtf monday? She said it was normal, but then I said it was worse.... then she said she'd check me again and she did.

And within 15 minutes my bidness had burned rubber from 4cm to 8cm....and so she double checked and I was at 9. She flew out the door ( just like the freight train that was barreling down out of my junk) to go find the doctor. Meanwhile that burning? It was only a slight hint of what was to come.

She came back in and I was complete, pretty much 4 to 10 in about 20-25 minutes with a small anterior lip. That they wanted to see if I could push out of the way. SO I muscled up the ol body and started pushing.... and pushing... and pushing. It felt like nothing was happening except for that I might be trying to give birth out of my sASS -minus the s of course.

At this point the pain is intense and the pressure is beyond unreal. All this, with that epidural? I tried resting, I tried pushing, nothing was helping and I was losing it. I am not proud of the words the may or may not have come out of my mouth. The nurse then tells me that she can see about a 50cent piece of his head. THAT'S ALL? Talk about my hopes being dashed. Thats defeat. I threw in the towel, surrendered and pretty much tried to sell my first born and then all 3 of my kids for a c-section.

Unrelenting pain. No more contractions, it was constant pain. I saw the doctor walk in and said something along the lines of "get this baby out of me now i am dying please just get him out". I was so over this and yet I had to just get mad and find a way to push past this volcano I was giving birth to.

I pushed 3 times through the depths of hell, and out he came, not bloody, not covered in white, just perfectly watery. They placed him on my chest... and I saw this big cone on the front of his head. He had been sunny side up,or posterior, but was in the process of turning so he pretty much came out half sideways and all. Annnnnnd that's why it hurt so bad. I was tempted to name him Mack, after the MACK truck that came from within my body. This is the part where I should feel relief and enjoy my baby. Yet I tried and it was still unbelievably painful pressure. My nerves were still reacting to being stretched at the speed of light. I cannot even imagine how bad it would have felt without drugs. I had my second kiddo au naturel and it was heaven compared to this. I have such a high pain tolerance but I swear I was being PUNKD by the epidural company or something. My most favorite part was when the doctor told me that I didnt even tear. Something good to focus on as my bottom half slowly started to calm down and stop being so angry at the world.

My boy.

He had very little hair, and little floppy ears and a button nose. He looked at me and my heart just grew. It grew until it almost burst, as he laid there just looking at my face. For so many months it was him and I, and I wondered what he looked like. Wondered how this would change me, the mommy of 3 beautiful girls, now a mommy to a little boy. All my heart knew at that very moment was that I was complete. I had my little family of amazing kids and this one, this one that always hid his face on ultrasounds, who was breech, who came via VBAC, and this one who when I thought I just couldn't do it, made me want to give a little more just so I could have this little boy in my arms. He is my littlest blessing.

Sunday, May 01, 2011

Groundhog day

Every day for the past few weeks have been groundhog day. Where I wake up and pee, take care of kids, wonder if this baby will be here today, pretend, plead, bribe, whine, beg, and ask if this baby would please, please, please come out and play. Convince myself that today is not the day, but throw on my walking shoes just to make sure that the only reason he is not here is simply not because I chose not to walk him out. All I've got to show for weeks of walking is gnarly shoe stank, sore feet and an aching nether region. The same nether region that he is thumbing his nose at and laughing at. I swear he is in there, feet and arms braced on the sides of my uterus, hanging along the wall like spiderman, laughing hysterically.

Then at night, I get in bed and lather that belly with lotion because if I have to suffer through acid reflux, aches and pains and graying hair, I will do everything in my power to have my stomach not turn into a hard boiled egg that has been dropped a million of times. Cuz we all know what happened to Humpty Dumpty. Someone had to put his roly poly butt back together again. I'm not feelin that.

I then wake up and lather, rinse, repeat.

Groundhog day, you suck.