Did I mention I was a stay at home mom?? I have two little boys. Okay, not little, that is such a relative term. I have two young boys. The oldest, lets say his name is Harry, is 5 years old. He'll be 6 this summer.
Harry was born on a Friday. He was about 2 weeks early. I had been feeling horribly tired for weeks preceding his birth. It had been the hottest spring in the record books, well, my record books at least. I had never felt so miserable in my entire life.
Thursday came, I had the day off and I was nesting. I had taken every single set of blinds out of the widows. I took them outside where I tried cleaning them with water sprayed from our garden hose. It didn't work very well, and I was getting frustrated. My MIL called and suggested that we go shopping for material for a quilt for the baby. I decided that was a good idea. We went to wal-mart and picked out some material, we walked the isles. We chatted. It was fun.
My wonderful husband got home a little early and suggested we go to the baseball game that evening. Okay. so off we went to the ball game. Me as big as a house. I remember waddling into the stadium, sitting right behind home plate. That is when the contractions started. They weren't too bad, I had felt them before. Just a little annoying, especially when I wanted to watch the game. I can't remember if we won or lost, but when we left, I had a funny feeling like this was it.
We drove home, it was about 40 minutes from the ballpark. I remember watching the clock on the radio, timing my contractions. Yup, about 3 minutes apart. They weren't too bad, even though dad-to-be wondered if we should go straight to the hospital or stay home. I suggested we get some sleep. I was a first time birther, and I knew that we were going to need all the energy we could get.
We went home, went to bed and waited. About 5:00 am, I woke up and I couldn't get comfortable again. I ended up pacing around my 800 sq ft house. I probably could have run a marathon had I the room. Well, we packed our bag and went off to the hospital, fully aware that we were going to miss my next Dr.'s appointment. We were hopeful that they were not going to send us home.
I got to the hospital about 7:30. They checked me in, hooked this funky belt around my distended belly and listened. Then the nurse violated me to check how "far along" I was. She mentioned that I was going to have a baby today. I remember thinking YIKES!! I'm only a kid, and I'm going to actually give birth. If it hadn't been for the monitor, and my husband, I think I would have ran out the door screaming. I was a little nervous.
Well, slowly it went. I remember sitting in a rocking chair, laying on the bed. The Dr. Came in and checked my "progress". WE laughed at the idea that I was at my right appointment time, just not in his office. I remember walking around the halls a bit. I wasn't making any progress, and the nurses made sure that we knew that. They also made sure that I knew I could get an epidural at any time, no matter what. I let them know I wasn't interested. I remember throwing up and having diarrhea. .
It was about 2:30 when the dr's came in. They wanted to break my water. I was not progressing ,and they thought that bursting my cushion might help. So the intern rammed an orange peeler up my crotch, twisted it, and suddenly I'm peeing in my bed. And with every contraction, more fluid escaped. The new nurse decided to get me going and forced me to take a shower. I relented and dribbled a little across the floor and into the shower. It was rough. I had never had such horrible pain ever in my life.
Those contractions that came after my water was broken were torture. I was in the shower sitting on the chair, and I didn't think I was going to make it. I needed something. A tylenol perhaps. Something to take this intense pain away. Well I had been in the shower all but 20 minutes or so when my sweet husband decided to come in and check on me. I remember I was hands and knees on the ground. I told him I was ready to push. He go the nurse, got me to bed. I told her I was ready to push. She checked me and holy cow, I was ready to push. I had gone from a 4 to a 10 (which in birthing terms means, push) in 20 minutes. And that isn't all. I really wanted to push. It felt good to push. They told me to hold it. HOLD WHAT?!!! I remember grunting through that feeling. My contractions didn't hurt anymore, but I was really needing to get this dang kid out. FINALLY the Dr. And the intern, and some nurses showed up, TV reporters, circus clown, and a few hobos off the street. They transformed my bed and told me to go ahead. BREATH AND PUSH. They talked about their golf game. PUSH. I think I burst a couple of veins in my forehead. But it was heaven. OH it felt so good to actually be working this kid out. PUSH.. I was getting hot. PUSH, I was getting really hot PUSH, okay between the next contraction I've got to get this gown off. PUSH. GET THIS DAMN THING OFF ME NOW... PUSH. That is better. I'm sitting naked on a bed with a huge belly. PUSH Okay it is still damn hot someone get me a cold washcloth PUSH, What the hell are you all here for get me a *&&%$^&*%^*) WASHCLOTH. PUSH, that is better thank you.
Suddenly the Dr.'s get a little excited. They tell me that they can see something. SOMETHING, it better the hell be a baby. PUSH, with every push they can see hair. OH the baby has dark hair. PUSHPUSHPUSH. Oh the head is out. stop pushing. Okay now PUSH, and out he popped. My little boy. My little man. My first born. The Dr. handed him to me. I looked at his little penis and said "it's a boy" and then that tiny little penis peed all over me. Oh how sweet. Dear husband cut the cord. The nurses bundled him up and took him over to check him out.
Ahh relief. He was a he, and he was here. Oh good. What?, the Dr. wants me to push out the placenta. Yeah right doc. I think I pushed my freaking lungs out with that kid. Then I understood why. The nurse tells me the weight of the kid . He comes in at a whopping 9lbs 2 oz! HOLY CRAP!!!
The Dr. Proceeds to sew me up. You got it Dr., sew me up so this can never happen again. The Dr. finishes, my husband brings in my ILs. They look at my sweet boy. They see how he is trying to attatch himself to my nipples. "OH how cute" they say "he wants to nurse already" But still they stay, and still they watch. FINALLY they leave. The nurses take the dear little boy and my husband away. They take him to "clean him up" but in reality they stick crap in his eyes and shoot him full of vaccinations. Then the hero of the story comes into the room. Yes a hero in my book. The sweet nurse who couldn't have been a day older than me, comes in to "clean" me up. And she does. What heavenly thing is she sticking on my crotch. Oh, it is ice, and it feels wonderful! She gets me into a wheelchair (yeah Dr. Bradley, I don't think I will be walking to the recovery room you smart ass, I just pushed out a freaking 9lb baby) and wheels me to my new, less comfortable room. The room where every damn nurse in the whole hospital goes on break or something.
I find myself in a bed, with nice white blankets and sheets. And my parents. Is it odd that I found their presence there disturbing. Maybe because I had just been completely naked not but an hour ago screaming for someone to get me a cold washcloth, and then here are my parents, who were there at my birth. Just smiling. They were waiting to see my boy. Not to see me. I promise, I had looked better several hours ago.
Soon Jr. is wheeled in, and we all get to see him. It really looked like someone had given him a haircut. His fingernail were perfect too. My parents left after a while and I attatched my boy to my boob. That is where he stayed for the next 26 months.