I haven’t written in forever. Mostly, it’s been because of laziness…..or exhaustion, constant pain and pregnancy hormones.
I did not have an easy pregnancy this time and I THINK it’s because God wanted me to feel every single pregnancy symptom this go around so that I make damn sure my birth control pills work in the future.
Oh yes….I had it ALL….severe morning sickness, aches, pains, headaches, sciatica pain, SPD, hip pain…..and the worst of all: hemorrhoids. And we’re not just talking about annoying little itchy things…..we’re talking about SEVERELY painful, thrombosed hemorrhoids the size of walnuts that have to be surgically lanced and removed. Pretty picture. Yes, I was humiliated. Yes, I had surgery at 24 weeks of pregnancy. Yes, it was MORE painful than actual childbirth. And yes, It was horribly traumatic. But….I lived through it and I have another battle wound to mark on my chart.
Another interesting event during my pregnancy (other than the fact that I was constantly reminded that I was listed as “advanced maternal age” at 35 and treated like I needed a cane most of the time) was that we had to fire my original OBGYN and change doctors at 30 weeks of pregnancy. I won’t go into ALL the details….but I didn’t feel safe. I questioned his abilities as a doctor…..and I began calling him “Dr. Slice-em-up” due to the fact that I could not find ONE single patient of his that had not had a csection. The csection rate at the local hospital in my current town has a csection rate of 57.4% – even all the nurses that worked in L&D at the hospital had had csections. Vaginal birth was not something that was encouraged.
I ran like hell to find another doctor and hospital.
We ended up with a fantastic female doctor and a much better hospital where I was able to deliver the way I wanted to (mostly)
After having a very rough pregnancy full of pain and stress, we all decided to induce and let the baby go ahead and come out. I’m 35 and tired. I also have three other kids, one of them with autism….and I live 45 minutes away from the hospital. If I were to have gone into precipitous labor and delivered the baby at home in front of my autistic son….it would have been a nightmare beyond all nightmares.
Anyway, they juiced me up with Pitocin….inserted a Foley bulb to help me dialate (which only took 30 minutes) and the contractions picked up pretty strong. I made it no secret that I WANTED an epidural this time around. Screw natural childbirth. I did it last time. It was a most miserable experience that I did not want to go through again. I asked for an epidural every time someone came into the room….and they made sure I got my epidural this time. Last time, I missed out on the epidural because I waited to long to ask for one…..and my blood pressure was way too low. Yeah. I found out what happens when you have an epidural with low blood pressure……you almost die.
Within 10 minutes of getting my epidural, which was given by an extremely crabby british man who looked like Gerald O’Hara……I was completely paralyzed from the CHEST down. Within 15 minutes, my blood pressure bottomed out and it was “lights out, Jenny”
I remember my husband screaming my name, and my mom saying “Stay with us, baby” and the next thing I remember is my heart nearly beating out of my chest. They had to give me a shot of ephedrine to raise my blood pressure…..it was not fun.
I’ve heard it’s a pretty common side effect (20%) of an epidural, but that is NOT the way I want to die….so yeah. It scared the crap out of all of us. Luckily, the baby was fine and I didn’t get rushed down to surgery for an emergency csection. God was looking out for us.
Since my first labor was only 8 hours, and my second was only 5 hours….we figured this one would be even shorter…..nope. It was 12 hours. With all of the interventions that slowed down labor, I laid in that bed paralyzed…paralyzed from the CHEST DOWN for 12 long hours. BUT when it was time to push, I gripped those bars like a Jedi Master and pushed the baby out in 3 pushes. Done. And afterwards, I bled like a stuck pig. It looked like a scene from Texas Chainsaw. Childbirth rocks!
My sweet angel boy was born at 6:01 p.m. and although we thought he was going to be a big baby, he was only 7lbs and 3oz. He just had a really big head (which I’m very aware of…..with all of these stitches I have…..I think the doc tried to sew me completely shut, as I can no longer sit “indian style” – sorry if that’s TMI….but it’s a fact.) And we couldn’t be happier. Our family is absolutely, positively complete with two girls and two boys.
It was definitely a long, hard journey…but I’d do it all over again for my littlest one. He is a sweet little baby boy who is alert when awake and cries hard for his bottle at dinnertime. Yes, my third and final attempt at breastfeeding was an epic failure due to double mastitis and total engorgement….bad latch. Probably the epidural’s fault too. He did get my pumped milk and he mangled my boobies trying to get the colostrum….I’m STILL wearing cabbage leaves.
But, we have a sweet, healthy bundle of joy. And my husband finally has a son of his own. And my son FINALLY has a baby brother among all of his sisters:-)
That’s the birth story in all it’s glory. I’m glad it is the last….and I’m ready to begin this new journey:-)))
Don’t you just love gory birth stories?:-)))