My Labor Story

My previous post concerned the film, The Business of Being Born, and it inspired me to tell my own story.  Months before I gave birth, there were all of these silly worries that I had about having a baby, like “what if I poop on the table?”, “What if it hurts so bad that I can’t keep pushing?” What if my water breaks at a store? do I tell someone in the store so that they can clean it up?” “Once I go into labor, what if I don’t make it to the hospital in time?” Well after going through it, I realized that those were the least of my problems and were actually quite ridiculous worries.

It was labor day, literally, September 7th, 2009. My husband and I went to my mother’s house for lunch because she made her beloved spicy enchiladas. I have always loved spicy foods and ate them often during my pregnancy but knew that is wasn’t really suggested unless you are trying to induce labor, I wasn’t trying to do that but I wasn’t trying to avoid it either. My boy wasn’t due for another week, so I wasn’t desperate or anything. After eating lunch, I felt very gassy and a little sick so when my husband decided to go see the movie, Gamer, I opted to stay home and relax. At about 3:00pm I was feeling really crappy, in fact I was trying to take a crap because I thought that what was wrong with me. I laid on my bed watching the second season of the OC and tried to just get comfortable, it was not working. I called my mother, she said “maybe this is it, are you having contractions?” How I am supposed to know if I am experiencing something that I have never experienced was beyond her comprehension.


At this point, things feel worse, my mother came over and I realized that his might be it. I texted my husband and let him know that maybe he should come home once the movie is over, not horse around with his friends all evening. He called seconds later, as he was walking out of the movie to check on me. I informed him that I was in pain, he rushed home.


The pain kept coming, but I was not ready to go anywhere. I was still convinced that I might just have really bad gas. I asked my mother, “Does labor just feel like you really have to poop?” she responded, “I don’t remember, I haven’t done it in 25 years!” Fair enough.


Show up to the military hospital, they tell me that I am nowhere near ready and that I need to go back home for a while. It is a 40 minute drive one way.


I am back at home, laying on the bathroom floor. I keep coming into the living room to relax on the couch, I even try to eat something light. My husband and mother try to make jokes, I waver back and forth between making my own jokes and crying.


We return to the hospital, hoping that someone will please let me stay. They turn me away again. After my mother yells at a nurse, the nurse gives me an Ambien and tells me to try to get some sleep at home. We decide that we are not driving all the way home again and I will try to sleep in the car.


The damn Ambien is for the birds and I want to murder someone. We go back in the hospital and tell them that I am getting a bed and not leaving, they allow it. The first room, I am in, I only stay in for a short time but promptly get my own room when it is ready.


The nurse takes my vitals and tells me to relax, they give me a small amount of morphine and suggest I really do try to sleep.

I do not sleep at all through the night, the pain is excruciating, and the morphine is a total joke.


The doctors return that I am quite dilated, but they are going to give me a small amount of the “pit” to cause more contractions, as if I need them.

A few moments later, the doctor gives me an epidural and has the nerve to tell me that the giant needle is going to hurt. I barely felt it, nothing compared to the pain of the contractions.


The nurses come in, they tell me that we are going to start pushing, I push twice and the nurses are freaking out because my boy is almost out but the doctor isn’t even there yet. They tell me to wait. They grab the doctor, he comes in with a surprised look on his face, and tells me to push one more time. After that third push, my son was out.


My son was here, they laid him on my chest, I was completely out of it but still crying for joy. I had lost a lot of blood and so they immediately took action. Moments later, I was able to hold him again.

It was the most amazing experience of my life, I highly suggest it to every woman who has the opportunity. Even typing my story right now, gets me both nostalgic and excited about the birth of my little girl. Stay tuned for my post about the dreaded recovery. Tell me your birth story.

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