How many times have you heard, "Don't worry, you'll forget the pain of childbirth." Ummm, hello. Not so much. I remember exactly the kind of pain I had while giving life to a new creature with my first child.
I was not naive to the pain of childbirth while pregnant with my 2nd offspring. I knew that when the time came, and it would, that I would much prefer a fork in the eye to pushing out an 8lb baby. I was scared.
Labor started the night before. I was being induced just like I had with my first child. I'm a rip the band-aid off kinda girl. Let's just get this done. So we arrived at the hospital. This time my bag was packed with realistic items. With my first child I actually packed size small pajama's to wear after I gave birth. Was I really that naive. You know, I couldn't even fit my leg into those pj's after giving birth. Did I really think I was immediately going to return to my normal size once the baby was born? Apparently I did. This time I went all in and packed XL maternity pj's.
The nurses did their thing as did my husband, going right to sleep on the fold out bed. About 2 hrs in I was already feeling some pretty heavy contractions. I tried to brave through it. I'm a suffer in silence type. I would have been able to do it too if my husband hadn't been snoring sooooo LOUDLY beside me. I remember laying there in bed not being able to move with all the gadgets hooked up to me. Not being able to put an elbow in my husband's back as I usually did when he snored. It was like Chinese Torture sitting there listening to the snores. I kid you not, I compared it to being trapped in a cage with a dripping faucet. Mind Torture. I did what any woman would do. Threw whatever I could reach and aimed it at his head. Unfortunately, I was unsuccessful as he just grabbed the pillow I had launched and used it to cushion his head. And then I just missed my pillow.
By the time morning arrived I was looking like a soldier in battle. Tears hadn't come yet. I was still determined to keep my wits about me. Stay the course. After dilating to a 6 I finally spoke out and said, "It's time for the epidural please." Ever polite. I am a little crazy when it comes to "public" behavior. Always reminding myself that people will respond better if I'm nice to them. Maybe I'll try and tell a couple of jokes to get these people on my side. Yeah, that's it. I'll win them over with my charm and become their favorite patient. Yeah, that's it, that's what I'll do. That lasted for all of 5 minutes.
The epidural didn't work yet again. It happened with my first child. Why didn't I prepare for this? Did I really think it was a fluke the first time? I have scoliosis where my spine makes a wicked S. Thus making it very difficult to get the needle in straight. What does that give you, only half of your body half numb. 4 more hours passed. 2 more epidural attempts were made. I had to lay in a certain position on my side for hours. I can't remember why exactly,..something about the baby. I'm sure it was important. That in itself is torture. When everything in your body is telling you to get up and move but you can't. You can't because you have electronic gadgets coming out of your yoowho. I clicked and clicked the epidural button hoping for any kind of relief. All it did was numb my left leg. Numb it so much that now the leg was miserably stiff and I had to be moved like people trying to lift an elephant.
I had the most fantastic nurse. The one and only reason I made it through the battle. I remember laying there saying crazy things. Things like, "Jesus take me. For the love of God please someone help me. For everything holy in this world, end it. End it now." My husband heard my gibberish and went to grab the nurse. They came to find that I had used all the medicine in the epidural and needed to change the pump.
That damn pump. The pump that I worked for via 3 epidural attempts. The pump was stuck and the nurse couldn't get it open. I heard her grunting as she tried to pry it open. Next thing I knew she handed my husband a wrench. Yes, I said WRENCH. I couldn't believe my eyes. This was what I was suppose to rely on? My husband and his tool belt? At this point I knew it was all me. I was doing this alone. I started yelling, "Forget the bleeping pump. This baby is coming. The baby is coming now. I'm going to push whether or not you guys are ready so someone better catch the baby,...and I did. Started pushing.
Finally the doctor came in. Of course what did I say to her,..."Hi Dr, how are you?" Her reply, "Well, not as good as you." WTH,..did I just hear you say that? Surely you didn't. Not as good as me? I'm strapped like a prisoner to a bed with a baby crashing down my vagina and a husband next to me with a wrench and you think I'm the one having a better day? Now of course I said all of this only in my head. My response to her was a smile. Yes, I'm crazy.
Baby boy came out shoulder to shoulder. He didn't come out the conventional way of one shoulder at a time. Apparently he was ready to get the hell out of there too. I didn't care about the pain. I just wanted to do what I had to do to end this 15 hour torture trip.
The good news is baby boy was of course well worth it. But forget the pain, never.