In six weeks I am "supposed to" have a baby.
I say "supposed to" because who knows if he'll come earlier than that but they will not be letting him come later than that.
Six weeks, say it with me. 1 2 3 4 5 6...weeks.
I just put together a list for my hospital bags and it dawned on me "HOLY CRAP" it's all becoming so very, very real.
I think I am having an anxiety attack, or it could just be that there is no breathing room for my lungs with this baby crammed into my short little body.
Where was I? Oh yes, list for hospital bag. I have had an emergency bag packed with nothing much really just incase something went awry like a gush of fluids coming from my nether regions.
Phrases like "birth plan" make me laugh these days.
Oh did I have one the first time, along with all this stuff I brought.
More phrases that make me laugh this time around, like "Relaxation CD’s
time passers (magazines, a book, cards, baby book?)
hard candies, lollipops, oh and essential oils"
Did I use it all? hell no.
My water broke, it had been a hellish night filled with pain and I was sick. I hadn't slept. But no contractions, just pain.
So any ways, I remember, my water broke, I had just laid down in hopes of sleeping. I got up. walked to my closet, and thinking, "this isn't bad *I smiled* I can do this, this is fine" a minute passed and holy shit I thought I was going to die. The urge to push was there and I still had flights of stairs to go down to get to the car.
We get to the hospital, these frickin people are taking there sweet ass time. Finally I am in a room.
"your no where near being ready, you are only dilated to 4, you have plenty of time" blah blah blah . I had to push, my body as pushing and I had no control over stopping it. "Quit pushing" I'm not, my body is. I had no control.
after tons of "f bombs" and unjustly using Gods name in vain, the nurse looked at my husband because I quit answering her stupid effing questions.
(I honestly couldn't talk) and he said,
look, she has back problems.
Nurse: ooh from the pregnancy
Husband: NO! before the pregnancy. She has back problems. physical therapy and chiropractic care here and there throughout the years.
Nurse: OH! call the anesthesiologist for the epideral.
*stupid stupid *
all of this happened within, oh, 15 minutes. The nurse is now rushing to get a bag of fluids into my body, squeezing as hard as she can because without that bag of fluids in me, or anyone, no epidural.
finally, it's in, epidural is in. I finally breathe. The little woman is a goddess in my eyes. My soul beams with love whenever I think of her to this day. She was barely 4ft 10 inches at most. But she was my hero. There was something grand motherly about here even though I could barely understand her accent. She stayed to watch Cyler be born. She was out of the way. She didn't say anything. She was like this angel. (can you tell I love the lady???) and then she was gone, and never saw her again. I don't even know her name.
(I was dead set against an epidural or any drugs in general, and I now know what my physical therapist meant when she told me when she said if you ever get pregnant your going to have a hard time and have a hard labor, those words had completely slipped away from my mind, totally forgotten).
Back to the story: they do another exam because they didn't dare attempt do another before the epidural was in place.
Nurse: wow, she's ready to go.
dilation not only went from 4-10 in a flash but time to rock & roll.
They let me rest for an hour before that happened though.
Doing massages in hopes to prevent an episiotomy. I still needed one but I am glad I had one instead of tore from my little mans giant almost 9lb body.
So there you have it folks. My water broke February 24th 2005 at 5:24 am, I was at the hospital by 6 am and Cyler was born at 8:28.
*where was I again? ooh yeah, packing a hospital bag*
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