Mother's Day Mania...Birth Stories!

Day dos of Mother's Day Mania!

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Those whoopsie stories were fun to read! ('Cuz, it made me feel like I wasn't alone!)

Now...onto Birth Stories!

Being a Labor and Delivery nurse...I love birth stories. Long ones, short one, exciting ones, boring ones, silly ones, dull ones...they're all great!

I've already written about my Baby Girl...and the Day She Stole My Birthday...so, today, I'm gonna write about the birth of the boy who made me a mama for the very first time!

The Pal (formerly known as Big A.) has a kind of funny birth story...

As most of you know...I was a young mom. I was 19 when I had the Pal and I thought I was sooooo mature. Ahem...yeah. Whatev.

Say it together with me..."Hello, sweet young mother!"

So...I was mucho preggo with him...home, 'til the fall semester, from college and sooooo incredibly anxious for this little one to make his appearance.

Or her appearance.

I didn't know. Did it the "old fashioned way" with all my kiddos...but, anywho.

One night, I was watching TV...wondering when on earth this little creature in my tummy was going to make his (or her) grand debut? When...it happened.

Some tightening.

If I had been in a 1950's movie...I would've placed a hand atop my swollen belly, adopted a peaceful look on my face, and tap-tap-tapped my husband (no husband at the time...just an equally young boyfriend) and said, "Honey, I think it's time."

But instead...I went to the bathroom.

And, I don't know why that was important. But, I know I went to the bathroom about a bazillion times in 5 minutes.

I'm not sure what, exactly, I thought I would find (my mucous plug, perhaps? *snicker*), but I felt the need to pee excessively.

And then...*gasp* another tightening. I picked up the phone, called my boyfriend and told him "I think it's time". Soooo 1990's.

He came to get me, my teary mom saw me off and we checked in to the hospital...all bright eyed and bushy tailed...(note to older self...bright eyes and bushy tails do not make for a mama in labor).

They checked me in, told me to change into a gown (I did...I put it on over my bra and my t-shirt, left my unders and socks on...modest much? Yeah...until after the delivery...when the nurses were wiping my bottom, spraying me with Solarcaine and "diapering" me...goodbye modesty), and hooked me up.

And...low and behold. I was having like one contraction a screen. So, probably like every 10 minutes.

Now...this was a small hospital...with few patients...and I think they were excited to have business. 'Cuz they kept me hooked up there all night.

Sometime late the next morning...with nary a contraction in site...the doctor came in. She offered me some of that "pitocin" stuff to get labor going or I could go home if I wished.

Um...hello? You're giving me an option?

I vote stay and meet this adorable little boy (or girl) inside me...afterall, you've just kept me here all night...I can't go home NOW!

So, in goes the IV, the pitocin, and nothin'.

And nothin'.

And nothn'.

Seemed like all stinkin' day...nothin'.

Then...something.

Then...holy mother of God, this FREAKING hurts!!!! Please, somebody help me! Why did I say I'd do this?! Oh, MY GOD...I'M GOING TO DIE!!!!!!!!

Only, I didn't say that.

I don't think I said anything other than..."Get the nurse".

And...it happened to be change of shift, just at the moment I needed a nurse. Which meant it must've been about 7:30 pm...I can't be sure, tho...I completely lost track of time...so, because it is change of shift, it takes a bit for the nurse to come.

She comes...I politely ask for some pain meds...and by pain meds...I mean, I would like an intrathecal, please. NOW!

They check me...I was four...after being less than four all day (I can't remember those details either...), and four was the golden number! I could have my intrathecal.

Only...they needed to call in the anesthesiologist first.

And, he lived in Timbuktu.

So, the "drill sergeant" nurse, who was actually JUST what I needed at that time...got right in my freaking out, crying, sobbing, dying in pain face and said "Relax. I want you to picture the word 'RELAX' written on a blackboard. Now...slowly start to erase that word, one letter at a time, then start over."

And...it worked! I relaxed!

For a second.

About thirty seconds later (or minutes? I'm not certain...have I mentioned my recollection of time is quite poor about all of this?), I feel a pop, a gush and something warm streaming out of my bottom side.

I groaned, "I think my water broke", and the nurse pulled back the covers. There must've been gobs of bloody show, 'cuz I heard her reassuring the young boy by my side..."Oh, that's okay. That's just bloody show, and yes, it looks like a lot...but it's okay."

Then she checked me. And darn it anyway! Where was that anesthesiologist?!

But...LOW AND BEHOLD...I was *wah wah wah wah* centimeters (memory...bad...). All I know is that I was way to far along to get anything for pain. I want to say 9.5 centimeters...but I could be wrong.

So, I was told, "sorry dear. You can't have anything for pain. You're too far along now."

Well...just kill me now.

Just stick a fork in me, I'm done.

I quit.

This isn't fun anymore.

I wanna go home.

I want my mommy!!!

And a freakin' intrathecal!!!

Only...I didn't say that.

I smiled. And cried. And puked. And puked and puked and puked.

And then...his (or her) head came down...and this is when the real fun began...

"I've gotta poop." I told my nurse.

"Oh, hon...that's just the baby's head." said the nurse, as they were calling the doctor to come deliver my baby.

"I've gotta poop." I cried.

"Yes, dear...that's just the baby's head." said the nurse.

"Um...I've gotta poop." I sobbed.

"Okay dear...we'll get the commode." said the nurse. (And, note to you...have you ever tried to poop on a commode with a room full of people and a 14 inch head sitting on your colon?)

*Grunting* "I'VE GOTTA POOP!!!!! I GOTTA POOP, I GOTTA POOP, I GOTTA POOP!!" I yelled.

And, so ensued the pushing. I remember looking at the clock, and seeing it was 10:00 pm (remember, this all happened in 2 1/2 hours, at this point). Two people I knew had recently given birth...one was my aunt (who pushed for 30 minutes) and the other is someone else I can't recall because my subconscious has decided to block much of that day from my memory.

Just protecting my Id. Or my Ego.

Or something.

But, the "other someone else" pushed for two hours. So...like I said...I looked at the clock, saw it was 10 pm and decided...right then and there...that by gum! I was NOT going to push for two hours!

And, I went to town.

'Cuz I had to poop, darn it!

Well...thirty minutes later...out comes my sweet baby boy!

Told ya I wan't gonna push for no two stinkin' hours!

Sigh.

I'm exhausted just thinking about it again! What a day that was!

And the doctor? She told me afterward..."I really didn't think you would deliver tonight! I thought we'd stop everything and restart in the morning!"

Ha! Showed them...din't I?!