So, this is going to be awkward, and really weird.
I was running errands ten years ago, yesterday. Doing small bits of running around, and we stopped for lunch.
I remember looking at the menu, and saying out loud "What will put me into labor?" So I picked a pepperoni calzone.
While we were out, we picked up a cake. Because it was my brother's birthday. He also only said he wanted sandwiches for his birthday dinner, so we picked up a mix of subs, and let that be it.
Home we went, and I felt normal. We got through the afternoon, and I got some things done.
While sitting down at dinner, I noticed myself feeling uncomfortable, but nothing beyond tolerable, and I was told that if I were really in labor I wouldn't be able to function.
Oh, my pain tolerance.
We had dinner, and were having cake, and I went to the bathroom. And while in there, I noticed that while I had finished using the bathroom, I could hear that liquid was still happening. There I sat, confused for a moment, and decided I wanted to be sure before I got everyone all caught up in what was going on. I went upstairs, thinking I would grab a pad, and see if it continued, but didn't say anything.
By the time I went down the stairs, everyone had coats on and they had bags and were ready to go. Apparently I was having this decision made for me.
To the hospital I went, to which they hooked me up to a monitor and confirmed that I was in fact in labor. I was told that I would be there overnight, but very likely baby wasn't happening anytime soon. Upon first inspection, apparently Squishy's head was blocking the hole in the fluid sac, which is why I only had a trickle. Well, that got moved, and there was niagra falls. Or at least it felt that way.
I was hooked up to a ton of monitors. I had to call the nurses just so I could roll over every so often with everything I was hooked up to. They told me I wouldn't be able to eat or drink anything just in case I wound up needing a c-section.
The next morning I was told I had very little progress. They gave me some pain meds which helped me sleep until my parents and sister showed back up. Every so often they would look at the monitor and point out if I was having a contraction, one of which my sister made me laugh my way into. They eventually left, being told that things were still moving slowly, and if baby happened, they would be able to see it in the morning.
This is where things get weird.
I eventually hit the point where I could get an epidural. My anesthesiologist came in, and was trying to put the port in for my pain killers, and I can hear a woman screaming like a banshee in the next room. He makes comments about how women think pain killers cause harm to the baby, and how he would never do anything that would risk the health of newborn. Then, I feel what can only be described as "warm and fuzzy" creep down my legs. What I wasn't told though, was that I wouldn't be able to use the bathroom, and I had a baby jumping on my bladder all day. They wound up having to catheterize me because I had to go, but luckily I had enough pain killers in that I didn't even notice.
My epidural eventually wears off, right in the middle of transition. I feel what I can only explain as ripples of death through my torso. They top off the epidural a bit, and I hear the doctor yelling at nurses. I had been in labor so long with broken water that they had to hook me up to antibiotics to prevent infection. By the way, they would only let me be in labor for 24 hours before forcing a c-section due to my water being broken.
I feel my body trying to split in two. Every muscle in my stomach is clenching, and my back is spasming so much I'm halfway lifting off the bed. A nurse walks in and does a quick check, and can feel Squishy's head in nearly crowning. I ask why anyone would voluntarily do this more than once. The nurses laugh, but I am serious. I ask if I can get a tubal before going home, but they pull the being too young bullshit. A giant table of tools gets wheeled in, and I ask where the doctor is. She is apparently doing paperwork. They explain to me counting pushes, and positioning and such.
The doctor comes in, and after a couple pushes, crowning is just about done, which the doctor says is something some women take hours to get to. A nurse ruins my feeling of strength by doing what feels like double fisting without warning. When I lose my breath, she yells at me not to breath like that, and I ask her to give me a little notice next time, because I had no idea what she was doing. The next push, I feel what was probably the strangest thing to ever happen to my vagina, and a baby is flung onto my chest. She poops on the nurses a moment later.
Finally, after a ton of cleanup, and a full twenty-four hours of labor and delivery (despite only twenty minutes of pushing) I am able to eat again, and go to the bathroom on my own.
Ten years later, and my kid still takes her time doing everything.
I was running errands ten years ago, yesterday. Doing small bits of running around, and we stopped for lunch.
I remember looking at the menu, and saying out loud "What will put me into labor?" So I picked a pepperoni calzone.
While we were out, we picked up a cake. Because it was my brother's birthday. He also only said he wanted sandwiches for his birthday dinner, so we picked up a mix of subs, and let that be it.
Home we went, and I felt normal. We got through the afternoon, and I got some things done.
While sitting down at dinner, I noticed myself feeling uncomfortable, but nothing beyond tolerable, and I was told that if I were really in labor I wouldn't be able to function.
Oh, my pain tolerance.
We had dinner, and were having cake, and I went to the bathroom. And while in there, I noticed that while I had finished using the bathroom, I could hear that liquid was still happening. There I sat, confused for a moment, and decided I wanted to be sure before I got everyone all caught up in what was going on. I went upstairs, thinking I would grab a pad, and see if it continued, but didn't say anything.
By the time I went down the stairs, everyone had coats on and they had bags and were ready to go. Apparently I was having this decision made for me.
To the hospital I went, to which they hooked me up to a monitor and confirmed that I was in fact in labor. I was told that I would be there overnight, but very likely baby wasn't happening anytime soon. Upon first inspection, apparently Squishy's head was blocking the hole in the fluid sac, which is why I only had a trickle. Well, that got moved, and there was niagra falls. Or at least it felt that way.
I was hooked up to a ton of monitors. I had to call the nurses just so I could roll over every so often with everything I was hooked up to. They told me I wouldn't be able to eat or drink anything just in case I wound up needing a c-section.
The next morning I was told I had very little progress. They gave me some pain meds which helped me sleep until my parents and sister showed back up. Every so often they would look at the monitor and point out if I was having a contraction, one of which my sister made me laugh my way into. They eventually left, being told that things were still moving slowly, and if baby happened, they would be able to see it in the morning.
This is where things get weird.
I eventually hit the point where I could get an epidural. My anesthesiologist came in, and was trying to put the port in for my pain killers, and I can hear a woman screaming like a banshee in the next room. He makes comments about how women think pain killers cause harm to the baby, and how he would never do anything that would risk the health of newborn. Then, I feel what can only be described as "warm and fuzzy" creep down my legs. What I wasn't told though, was that I wouldn't be able to use the bathroom, and I had a baby jumping on my bladder all day. They wound up having to catheterize me because I had to go, but luckily I had enough pain killers in that I didn't even notice.
My epidural eventually wears off, right in the middle of transition. I feel what I can only explain as ripples of death through my torso. They top off the epidural a bit, and I hear the doctor yelling at nurses. I had been in labor so long with broken water that they had to hook me up to antibiotics to prevent infection. By the way, they would only let me be in labor for 24 hours before forcing a c-section due to my water being broken.
I feel my body trying to split in two. Every muscle in my stomach is clenching, and my back is spasming so much I'm halfway lifting off the bed. A nurse walks in and does a quick check, and can feel Squishy's head in nearly crowning. I ask why anyone would voluntarily do this more than once. The nurses laugh, but I am serious. I ask if I can get a tubal before going home, but they pull the being too young bullshit. A giant table of tools gets wheeled in, and I ask where the doctor is. She is apparently doing paperwork. They explain to me counting pushes, and positioning and such.
The doctor comes in, and after a couple pushes, crowning is just about done, which the doctor says is something some women take hours to get to. A nurse ruins my feeling of strength by doing what feels like double fisting without warning. When I lose my breath, she yells at me not to breath like that, and I ask her to give me a little notice next time, because I had no idea what she was doing. The next push, I feel what was probably the strangest thing to ever happen to my vagina, and a baby is flung onto my chest. She poops on the nurses a moment later.
Finally, after a ton of cleanup, and a full twenty-four hours of labor and delivery (despite only twenty minutes of pushing) I am able to eat again, and go to the bathroom on my own.
Ten years later, and my kid still takes her time doing everything.
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