Having a baby gets you into the club.
The “… the I went through labor… and now I’m going to tell you all about the worst and best day of my life club.”
If you’ve had a baby, I’m sure you know what I’m talking about.
And if you’re expecting one, and don’t quite know about the club yet – believe me, you will.
Moms love to share their terrifying, graphic, downright horrifying labor stories.
It’s like they’ve earned this badge of honor, and now they have the right share it with the world.
When I was 8 1/2 months pregnant I had a woman tell me she wanted to cut her baby out of her belly with a knife because the pain was so unbearable.
Another woman chose to detail the size and number of hemorrhoids she had, and went on to describe the nature of her post-partum stitches.
No thanks. I won’t be doing that here.
My story isn’t anything like that. And I hope you find comfort in that.
I had a relatively short and great labor – well, I’m not sure great is quite the right word, but … when put into context with the “cut baby out of her own belly lady.” 😉
I know, I know, you’re probably rolling your eyes right now.
But anyways, stay with me … here’s my labor story …
September 13th 2014
After about 18 hours of discomfort (which I now realize was early labor) it was GO TIME!
And after being 6 long days “overdue”, trust me, I was ready!!
9/13/2014 – approximately 8:00 pm
My hubs and I arrive at the hospital … still not sure if I was officially in labor or not (all the books say to wait until your contractions are about 2-3 minutes apart, and I wasn’t even sure if what I was feeling was a contraction – I would describe it more like menstrual cramps).
9/13/2014 – approximately 8:10 p.m
Fill out hospital paperwork – puke all over hospital waiting room.
9/13/2014 – approximately 8:15 p.m.
I was taken back to the little room where they evaluate you, and decide whether or not to admit you.
Joan – my “pre-labor” nurse was great. Very patient with me 🙂
She hooked me up to the fetal monitor and ran a series of tests on me. I think she was checking my contractions, checking to see if I was dilated at all, and communicating with my the doctor that was on-call at my OB’s office (delivering another baby in a hospital across town!)
She determined to admit me, thank the Lord!
The time between when I arrived at the hospital and when my son was born simply flew by – it didn’t seem like 4.5 hours at all.
9/13/2014 – between 8:30 – 11:30 p.m.
Anytime Joan came over to check on me, I tried to tell her all about my birth plan (my exact birth plan, is here).
I didn’t want an IV, I didn’t want Pitocin, and I didn’t want a freaking epidural. She must have hated me!
Ladies, I won’t be the one to tell you not to do your own research, or not to write a birth plan of your own. I think birth plans are super ideas and very helpful to expecting mamas.
And really, you can try your damndest to stick to the plan … but just realize God has his own plans, and sometimes you’ll need to make adjustments along the way.
9/14/2014 – approximately 12:00 am
Cue in my anesthesiologist (the one to administer the epidural I said I didn’t want) and my doctor.
Yup, they arrived at the exact same time.
What to do!
My doctor checked me and said I was ready to push and asked if I still wanted the epidural.
Big girl decision time.
I declined.
Shit, now what?!
Time to start pushing.
The whole pushing part was completely not what I had imagined – at all.
And the whole experience was way more “intimate and personal” and not sterile and “hospital-like” how I imagined.
The doctor who delivered my dear Jack, was a man I had never met before, and one I’ll never forget. He put me at ease and made me feel so comfortable and confident in the whole birthing process.
Oh yes, and I guess I should mention my hubs again here. 🙂
He was fantastic! And he helped me every step of the way, he was my very best cheerleader – and my rock of strength and support.
September 14th – 12:43 a.m.
After about 45 minutes of pushing – and maybe 5-10 sets of contractions/pushing sets – my sweet Jack arrived into the world.
What happened next, nothing could have ever prepared me for.
Read on for part 2.
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