Cathy's Birth of a Son

Cathy's Birth of a Son

My Birth Story

A little back story for you… I have had many doctors tell me that I would not be able to get pregnant without having surgeries for many different reasons… which I didn’t have.  During this time I found out that I had Fragile X Syndrome and it was explained to me by my doctor (the geneticist) that I would have a 50/50 chance of having a child/children with FXS… so because I really hadn’t gone through the surgeries that were recommended and because of these odds (and the fact I needed a husband first LOL), this wasn’t going to happen for me anytime soon. 

I finally met my now husband in 2006 and he was fully aware of my situation and we were fine being the fun aunt and uncle that would spoil our nieces and nephews. 

Fast forward several years….

Literally one day before our 1^st wedding anniversary, we found out that we were expecting.  I had not been feeling very well for a couple of months really… just extremely tired and wanted to nap all the time – this was so not me at all.  I had gained a little weight and thought oh man… this is not normal! 

My husband kept telling me to call my doctor.  Yeah yeah okay… so I thought I know she is going to ask me if there is any possibility that I could be pregnant.  Knowing my history, why I even decided to go get a test is still beyond me.  We drove to the store to get some lettuce and avocado for a salad to go with dinner that night and oh yes, a double pack of a pregnancy test.

I came home and started dinner – already forgot about the test.  I was done eating and was like ohhhhh I need to go to the bathroom and oh yes, should take that test now.

Seriously… I barely peed on the stick – put it up on the paper towel on the sink and it said PREGNANT.  I just sat there with my mouth open…waiting…. Waiting for the word NOT to show up. 

I couldn’t get the words out of my mouth.  I couldn’t call my husband’s name to come in the bathroom because I went into shock.  I started balling…. Swearing….saying WTF!!!!!!!!!  I was screaming!!!  I was extremely sad, happy, and livid all at the same time.

My husband was like OMG what is wrong with you?!  He came rushing in – he forgot I was even taking this test.  I couldn’t speak, I couldn’t breathe, I needed my inhaler and a ton of Kleenex.

Well, my hubby was in complete and utter shock then as well. 

We were both crying now at this point.  I was so upset, sad, mad, angry, pissed, and happy all at the same time.  Here I was in my mid 30s and husband in his early 40s about to have a baby.

I immediately called my doctor once I could control my tears.  Although, I don’t know why because once I told her I began crying somewhat hysterically again.  She was like, well, that is shocking, but CONGRATULATIONS!!! 

Gee thanks, I guess.

Really?  That’s what I say?!  WTF is wrong with me?!  I should be thrilled!  Happy!!!!  Dancing around jumping for joy, right?!  Nope.

So, I call one of my best friends first before anyone else – this was hours later.  She was so excited and the first thing she said after congratulating us was… ‘we can do this’!!!  (I asked months later… where is the we now?  Meaning… where are you in the middle of the night for his feedings?  LOL  I was totally kidding of course, but it was good for a laugh.)

So then, I call my mother and tell her.  She is so thrilled and I can practically feel her grinning from ear to ear.  Here I am balling my eyes out…. YET AGAIN.  She asked why I was crying and I just told her that believe me, I am so happy and thrilled, but I am so angry that all of these doctors told me I couldn’t get pregnant – no way no how unless I had surgery.  It seems so stupid that I would even listen to that now – as if there is never a slight chance.  Well, apparently, there was.

I hope you don’t think I am an ungrateful B-I-T-C-H, because I’m not.  I was just so frustrated and still in shock.

So then my husband called his sister and told her – she was equally thrilled for us.

So, this is really happening – my eyes were so swollen and red, my head was pounding, and I was tired.

There went dinner and our weekend plans of celebrating our anniversary.

Anyhow, my husband and I were both in total and complete shock.  We had many emotions running through us, namely, happiness, anger, and sadness… not knowing what was ahead.  My medical issues and the fact that our son or daughter could have Fragile X Syndrome.

The next day, our anniversary, I went to my doctor.  She is a personal friend of mine and she of course said to come in the next day to get blood work to confirm that I really was pregnant and see how far along I was and also to get on prenatal vitamins.

Well, she had a guess of how far along I was, but to confirm I would need an ultrasound, which I had the next week. 

I was 9 weeks pregnant. 

WHAT THE HELL?!  NINE WEEKS???????????????  No wonder I was sick for so long!!!  Mind you I had six weddings this summer and I had a drink at each one.  Thankfully I didn’t get wasted!  OMG

We drove from the doctor’s office and went to my aunt’s house, whom I am very close to, and was just wanting to share with her the news as I did with anything significant in my life.

I took the baggie with the pregnancy stick out of my purse and hid it on the island in the kitchen.  I said so…. Are you up for planning a baby shower – start shopping for favors?  She’s like why? Who’s having a baby?  I said well… we are.

There I go again!!  Crying my eyes out!!!!!  Uncontrollably!  Seriously, WTF@ME, enough already!

She was so thrilled, of course… but she cried with me.  She hugged me and just said that she was so happy for us and that her daughter (who had CP that passed away 2 months earlier) sent this baby to us.  OMG she was right!  I really think that people we love that pass on really do watch over us – and between her daughter and my grandparents, I know they were watching over us and sent us a miracle.

My whole attitude changed from that day on and we were so happy.

So now the OBGYN visits started.  Oh what fun!

After I gave my OB my history, I was asked if I was wanting to find out (when it was safe to) to see if our baby would have FXS, Down’s Syndrome, or anything else… and my husband and I talked about this before hand and agreed that it would not matter, we would love him or her no matter what.

Turns out… I did have gestational diabetes during my pregnancy and controlled it with diet and exercise.  (May have had something to do with that zinger I had before the test – DUH).  No other problems at all during my pregnancy.  I was seeing a doctor in Maternal Fetal Medicine to monitor the gestational diabetes.  I was also considered high risk because of my age.  Geez! When did 35 become OLD!

I was due April 22^nd and the last week of March went to the Maternal Fetal Medicine doctor and they noticed I was having some contractions even though I didn’t feel anything significant.  They also did an ultrasound and said that if I carried the baby to term, then I would have a very large baby – close to 9 ½ to 10 pounds.  Their recommendation was to have an amnio to make sure his lungs were fully developed – then if they were they were going to induce labor with the possibility of having a C-Section.  This was a Monday, I schedule the amnio for that Friday.  So, I thought, okay, he will be here on Friday, the 4^th!  I have time!  Yay me!

On April 1^st, I had just gotten out of the shower – getting ready for my doctor appointment with our potential pediatrician and then my grandfather’s wake… (yes, my grandfather passed away right before I had my baby).. when all of a sudden, 8:30 am, my water broke.  GUSHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH GUSHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH MORE GUSHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH WTF MORE GUSHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH SHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHGUSHHHHHHHHH.  OMG I am so happy I was sitting on the toilet!  Then I thought OMG I am gonna have this baby in the bathroom!

Panic set in.

What do I do? 

Those classes I went to didn’t say what happens when you panic!  Do I shower?  I’m afraid to… (don’t worry I did) LOL I showered, shaved, thank goodness I had a new mani/pedi!!!  I know this is going to sound gross, but I made sure I was shaved “down there” I mean really…. I didn’t want all those people that were going to see “it” talking about the prego chick needing to be bush wacked!  Come on people!  LOL

So,  I called my doctors office to let them know… they called the hospital to let them know I was on my way.  I then called my husband to come home from work.  Oh right… Mr. I don’t answer my phone when there is an urgent situation or a real emergency!!!  WTH seriously?  Who does this?!!!

Thankfully, I have a couple of his friends numbers that he works with – they had to radio him to call his wife. 

In the mean time, I called the doggy hotel to get our dog in a few days early LOL, then called my aunt who was going to be in the birthing room with us - she thought it was an April fools joke.  Um no!  It wasn’t!  LOL

My husband came home and I had already packed my bag, a bag of snacks for him and my aunt along with some outfits for the baby.

We are on the way to the hospital – I’m having contractions now every 8-10 minutes or so… omg they were extreme!

We get to the hospital, let them know I am there, they put me in a wheelchair – felt like the village idiot riding a cart at the grocery store that has the bum wheel?!  You know the one I’m talking about!  Yeah the most out of control one!

I get to my birthing room… a nurse finally comes in and tells me to change into this hideous 12 sizes too big gown.  She asks me a bunch of questions – sticks this strip in me to see if my water really broke.  REALLY?  You crazy broad?  Me telling you about all the gushes didn’t convince you? 

Now, I have worked in the medical field before and I know that there are questions you have to ask and also that there are “ways” to ask them.  This woman had no bedside manner to save her life – it was only about 10:30 in the morning and she’s already having a crappy day.  Great, and I get stuck with her.

She goes on to send my husband out of the room to ask me if I wanted to be here or if he made me come.  WTFFFFFFFFFFFF?!  Seriously?  Yeah lady… he made me come – dumbass!

Then she asks if he abuses me or anything like that… um NO!!! 

Now I’m getting irritated.  I’m having contractions and this is what she wants to talk about?!  STFU and get me an epidural!!!

Thankfully, she was not my “nurse”.  I had several because I was in labor so long.  The OBGYN group I belonged to had six doctors that you had to rotate through.  I got three different ones that night – and they were the men.  LOL Never thought that would happen!  I went there wanting a woman to do it, but seriously at this point, I didn’t care.  Get this boy out!

The day went on… I couldn’t eat anything.  I was starving.  I didn’t eat anything before I left – HUGE mistake.  HUGE!!!  Ice chips just don’t cut it.

Let me tell you when my aunt is in the picture, she comes prepared.  She had her own huge bag of treats, magazines, games, books, you name it, it was in there!  Not to mention the 4 different outfits all washed and ironed – look like they came from the cleaners – oh did I mention she bought 2 sizes of each?  Since we all thought I was having a hippo size child?   OMG and LOL

So, she also has some of my favorites… Swedish fish.  Yes, those little red gummy fish.  I LOVE THOSE things!!!  LOVE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Okay, so knowing I am starving, these two (my aunt and my husband) are drinking their pops and munching on their treats all day…. IN FRONT OF ME!  I’m starving!!!!

They give me ONE Swedish fish.  ONE.   ONE FUCKING LONELY FISH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

A couple hours later, I ask for more… they give me a ½ of one.  Seriously, WTF you have got to be freaking kidding me!  Their response was… you have gestational diabetes.  You can’t have this.  Also, you’re not supposed to eat anything.  JERKS!

Okay, whatever… one doctor comes in and says you’re only dilated 1 centimeter maybe 1 ½.  Okay, WTF I could be this way forever!  Next doc comes in later on…he’s real funny, cracking jokes and everything, so that was cool. 

Finally, it’s epideral time!  Yay! 

Oh wait… that fucking hurts! 

Oh wait… didn’t get it the first time, or the second, okay on the third time.  WOW that hurt.

Hours go by…   I am in and out of sleep.

I’m starting to have more pain – contractions… they were having a hard time getting the babies heartbeat on the external monitor, so they had to put in an internal monitor on his head.

The next doctor who comes in who eventually delivers my baby, comes in and sticks his whole arm inside of me – I didn’t feel a thing.  My husband was like WTF?!  He’s like I didn’t see his elbow it was in so far.  LOL  He’s like OUCH!!!!  Yep, thank goodness for epiderals!

So while we are patiently waiting… my aunt brings out this book she has… Are You Smarter Than A Fifth Grader.  Well, apparently, I’m not. 

My Aunt asks:  What is the largest continent?

My answer:  South Africa?

(Shut it!  I was on drugs!!!!!!!!!!!)

I was like… what?  They burst out laughing at me… my aunt and the husband. 

I was like, well?  Geniuses?  What is it then? 

Asia.

Me:  Oh yeah!  Like Mongolian Beef!

OMG – what did I just say?!!!  Now at this point, my aunt and my husband are in tears.  I’m laugh/crying myself… then I’m getting pissed because they are still laughing and calling everyone in their cell phones and telling them what I said.  I mean how many times do I have to hear this f’ing story now?!  Give me a freaking break… I’m in labor, have drugs in me, I’m tired, and delirious.

I was tired, cranky, hungry as hell, thirsty, these ice chips were nowhere to be seen…. They wouldn’t give me any more. 

About one something in the morning I start dilating more and more… thank goodness! They gave me more drugs in my epidural.  I thought okay, here we go!

Not enough… here comes the pain again.  Oh boy… I am one to take pain and try to hide that I’m in it.  My nurse, Debbie was so extremely great – she helped me breathe through some of my contractions – it’s like she just knew exactly what I needed.

Debbie, my nurse came back in about 3:30 in the morning to check on me and the baby.  We were fine… nothing going on, she said I was dilated to like 8 so we might have a little while, but we’re getting there she said… also she said to just rest and try to sleep.  She said when you feel like you need to push, call me.  I said, how will I know, just another big contraction?  She said oh no… you’ll know honey. 

Now mind you, there were 6 of us having babies on this floor this day.  Five ended up being c-sections!  5!!!  I was almost one of them!!!  Holy crap!!! 

Okay, so literally Debbie walks out the door and I feel this omg I am going to die feeling.  OMG this is it!  I said this is what Debbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbie was talking aboutttttttttttttt!!  Get her in here NOW!!!!

OMG HEEE HEE HEE WHOO WHOOO WHO WHO… I’M BREATHING!!!! 

Debbie comes running in and checks me and is like oh yeah you’re at 10 already.  WOW!  She said that was fast!  She said, okay, we’re having a baby!

She went to get my doctor – they had a bunch of people coming in and out of my room setting up tables of instruments and getting the warmer ready for the baby, etc.  They also needed to get the neonatologist in there as well.

All of a sudden they are letting me push as much as I need to, then I have to hold it.  I am not kidding my nurse was the best.  She said the best way to tell you how to push is to act like you have to take a big shit!  Just push it out!  LOL I laughed but it worked!

My doctor was like, Catherine, really, you can say shit, fuck, piss… whatever you want, it’s allowed.  Then he laughed.  I didn’t know this guy could even smile… this was the mean one that never smiled ever!  Not that he was ever mean, just looked like a grinch.  You know what I mean?

The one thing I didn’t want to happen, was to actually shit on the table…. But I didn’t even know I did.  I asked my husband later and he said yes.  Oh man… that’s not good.  How embarrassing!!!

So, during this… they had to do a few episiotomies.  Yes, a few.   The one nurse had to go to the closet to get more thread to stitch me up several times.

So, here comes our baby boy!  That last crazy push….  His head is coming out… he’s blue.  My aunt is sitting in the back – she can see, but she wanted my husband to be by my side obviously.  Well, the doctor thought he was going to pass out so he told a nurse to help him sit down.

Snip snip… more cutting of my you know what… great.

I still don’t know he’s blue by the way…

Push again… one last real hard push. 

My last push, I said ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh shooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooot!!!!!

Born at 4:23 am!!!  After that last push, I had no more real pain… it was relief, and a sense of accomplishment.  I was smiling ear to ear, but no one else was saying anything.

The cord was wrapped around my babies shoulders twice.  He was all blue.

I just thought… okay he’s okay… we have all these doctors here, he’s okay. 

Omg maybe he’s not… I start crying… he’s not crying!  OMG! OMG! OMG!

My aunt runs to my side and they all stand in front of me with their backs to me and my aunt has tears in her eyes.  She had a daughter with CP who had some pretty terrible experiences, so she knows all about the scary times.  She squeezed my hand as we waited.

Meanwhile, my legs are cramping… cramping bad… my legs were in those damn stirrups – it’s like everyone left me to be by my baby, which I can appreciate, but there were so many of them that one of them couldn’t help me?

I still had to give birth to my placenta.  Oh shit… I think that was worse than giving birth to my baby!  It hurt so much!  I thought I was going to start freaking out and take my own legs out of the stirrups until they were ready to deal with me.  I didn’t care how long I had to wait… but they said no.  That was bad.

Then I think OMG he’s still not crying. 

After 11 extremely long minutes – he let out a cry.  It was the most amazing sound I’ve ever heard in my life.  I didn’t get to hold him though.  They took him out of the room as soon as he let out his cry and he was cleaned up.

I was in labor for 21 hours.

I finally got to see him several hours later – it was about 12:30 in the afternoon – he was cleaned up and fed… put on monitors and some oxygen just to make sure things were okay.  His pediatrician, my OB, and the neonatologist were all by to see him and he was doing well.  He was 8 pounds 2 ounces at birth. 

We were able to take him home the next day.

Let me tell you – I am so grateful to my husband who took the next week off because I don’t know what I would have done without him.  I couldn’t move for two days really.  He went out and bought two donuts for me to sit on – yeah those are a joke.  My privates hurt me so bad, I had so many stitches – I was in more pain with that than I was in labor! 

I had the most adorable baby ever. We love him more and more every day – we never thought that was possible, but it is.  When he smiles, laughs, or does anything… we smile, laugh, and tear up. 

He is truly our miracle baby in every sense and yes, in case you were wondering, he does in fact have Fragile X Syndrome.

Please visit Catherine’s blog at:

http://virtualmommies.com/

Tags: birth, birth stories, birth stories on demand, bladder fail funny, intervention, epidural, fragile x syndrome, unexpected blessings, funny birth stories,  episiotomy,  hospital birth stories, birth stories with pictures

The Return of Christmas Dinner

The Return of Christmas Dinner Birth Story:

Please note, an important upfront point is that my biggest fear of delivery was always pooping on the table.  I asked about it in birthing class, I asked my doc how to prevent it, I was very nervous about it happening to me through out. 

Apparently, I must have willed it to happen, b/c get a load of this: I was due with my daughter mid Dec 2004.  I finally went into labor Christmas night, Dec 25, 2004, after a very large, four course, Christmas dinner. 

When I finally got to pushing, apparently, I pushed the entire FOUR COURSE Christmas dinner onto the delivery table first. 

So much so that I cleared the room of all but my poor husband who stayed by my side.  Three different nurses left the room, pretty rapidly, the last actually saying out loud that she was off to get peppermint room freshener spray!  

 

By that point, and in the heat of delivering a baby, I thought it was all hysterical, and continue to think so after, telling my horror story to whomever, in the hopes it’ll make any little thing that happens to them in delivery a heck of a lot better than the return of a full, multi course Christmas dinner! :)

A very good friend is actually an L&D nurse and tells the tale to everyone in her childbirth classes, again, sharing a “low-bar” other mothers can’t help but beat!  That Christmas baby is now 6.5 years old, and I'm proud to say, the delivery of her little sister 3.5 years later, Aug 2008, was poop free. 

Here we are sporting our stripes.  Check out Laura's website and blog:

http://www.stripedshirt.com/

http://stripedshirtblog.com/

Shannon's Birth Story

Birth Story used by permission from Shannon.  Follow her blog here: 

Heels In The Rain

City Meets Country - step by muddy step

Shut Up and Keep Your Legs Closed - How My Son Was Born

Honestly, is there anything more boring than someone telling you about the dream they had? 

If in reality you were raising your 70 year old mother's red-haired twin midgets - one boy, one girl - that she just gave birth too then I would be interested, but otherwise - not so much (this has absolutely nothing to do with my post, but the dream freaked me out so much that I had to share it, which of course goes against my no dream sharing rule).

#2 on the list would have to be birth stories. 

I don't really want to hear about your 36 hour labor broken down minute by minute or how many stitches it took to repair your episotomy incision and that your husband asked the doctor to put in "an extra stitch" snicker, snicker. 

However, MY birth story is actually quite funny.  Really.  It is!  And since my T.K. arrived 4 years ago yesterday and I have a blog and you don't, I'm gonna tell it -

Broken down.

Minute by minute. 

Control your excitement, please.

Living in Fort Collins, CO.  Two weeks before due date.  I had spent the day in the hospital with my oldest helping her get her insulin pump installed to her stomach and learning how to use it.  Fun stuff.

Midnight I get up to check her blood sugar.

Water breaks.  Uh, oh.

12:05 - I call Tiger who is in Portland, OR and tell him he needs to catch the first flight home in the morning but not too worry because I don't have any contractions yet.

12:07 - I call Tiger back.  Okay, a contraction, but no big deal.

12:15 - Are you kidding me?  Contractions coming at record speed. 

12:16 -  I call my friend Judy in Denver.  No answer.  Shit.  I call again.  No answer.  Shit, shit!  I call again.  She picks up and yells at me because I didn't call her landline and she just happened to hear her cell in the kitchen when she was peeing.  Why were you peeing in the kitchen, I ask.  She tells me to shut up.  I apologize for um, nothing and ask her to get her ass up to Fort Collins because I think the baby's head is poking out of my cervix.

12:20:  Run outside, knock on my neighbors door.  No answer.  Really?  I do not have time for this crap, how do people sleep so soundly?  Then I bang, bang, bang, bang and start yelling.  That worked.

12:50:  Arriving at hospital.  John (my neighbor) drops me off and then goes to park.  I am at the wrong door.  I have to walk around to the other side of the hospital leaving a trail of amniotic fluid in my wake.  John is waiting for me.  Where did you go - he asks?  Shut up - I say. 

1:30:  I am in my hospital room, alone, and Judy walks in.  WTF - you live over an hour away and I just called you?  She tells me to shut up and that I should have had her landline number.  We are still on that?  I tell her to let it go and ask her how she got here so fast.  She doesn't answer.  I still am confused by that one.

2:00 - Settling in, no baby yet but close.  Now we have a dilemma.  I want Tiger there for the delivery but the first flight home is 6 am which would get him to the hospital at 11am earliest.  Doctor says no problem.  We just wont check on you.  Basically, I need to keep my legs closed and not move for forever! I don't remember reading about this "we will leave you alone and keep your legs closed" method of birthing in What to Expect When You're Expecting.

3:00 - Its just me and Judy and she is monitoring the contraction reader machine and doing a play by play.  I explain that this is unnecessary as I am very aware how the contractions are going.  She tells me to shut up. 

4:00 - Big pain.  I yell.  Judy tells me to shut up.  I tell her it hurts.  She looks at the machine and explains to me that it is not a big one and I am over reacting.  She says I am being a big baby.  I tell her I love her. 

4:30 - I had my first 2 children with no drugs.  It blew.  I am too old for this pain shit and call in the doctor and ask him to light me up with his best dope.  He gives me an epidural.  I am in heaven.  I ask for a chardonnay.  No dice.

5:30 - Judy's bored.  I am bored, but my makeup and hair look good.  My legs stay closed.

6:00 - 9:00 - Tiger is flying to Denver.  My legs stay closed.

9:00 - New doctor enters and wants to check me to see how dilated I am.  I tell him no.  My legs stay closed. 

10:00 - Tiger is now driving.

10:30 - By this time, countless of doctors and nurses have entered my room asking on Tiger's status.  Judy updates them on his progress.  He is on the highway.  He is in town.  He is 2 miles away.  Any minute.

10:45 - Phone rings.  Judy answers.  Judy talks and hangs up.  I ask if Tiger is here yet.  She says no it was my sister and she wants in.  Judy told her no. 

10:50 - Tiger enters the building.

10:55 - I hear a loud cheer outside my room and know Tiger is here.

11:00 - Tiger and the doctor walk in.  Judy grabs the camera.

11:02 - I open my legs.

11:04 - T.K. is born.

11:05 -  I am crying.

11:06 -  Tiger is crying.

11:07 -  Judy is crying. 

11:07:23 -  I tell her to shut up. 

Follow the funny and amazing Shannon on her blog here: 

http://heelsintherain.blogspot.com/ 

Handflapper's Birth of a Son

Okay, maybe some back story is needed here, in order for you to fully understand the above illustrations, no matter how brilliant they may be. The year is 1988, the month is January, I am at my mother’s home in a backwoods podunk racist town on the western Arkansas border. (The fact that the town is racist doesn’t really have anything to do with this story, but details, people, details.) I am 21 years old and hugely pregnant, but not, in fact, due for delivery for three more weeks.

My husband at the time, who shall from henceforth be referred to as the Ex, because that is what he is now, is also present. He is on Christmas break from school, because we are young and idiotic and managed to get ourselves knocked up in the spring of our junior years of college, which probably has a lot to do with why he’s been the Ex for lo these many years past.

Anyway, we are visiting my mother for a few days, at her home which happens to be a two-and-a-half hour drive from our home, and from my obstetrician, and from the hospital where I am expected to give birth. We are not worried about being that far away from home, even though during our visit there’s been a spectacular ice storm and due to unsafe road conditions, we’ll probably be stuck at Mom’s longer than either of us would ever care to be, because, as I’ve said, my due date is still three weeks away and he doesn’t have to be back at school any time soon, either.

The baby, or my body, or something, had other ideas, apparently.

After recovering from the disorientation of waking in a warm wet lake and the confusion and embarrassment of dreaming of going to a swim meet with my boyfriend of the previous year to actually COMPETE in said swim meet, when truly, I can’t swim at all, I knew exactly what was going on, because of the most excellent birthing class taught by my ob/gyn’s wife that I had attended a month earlier. I wasn’t even all that freaked out. I wasn’t having any labor pains,  which I found curious, but I knew that wasn’t a completely extraordinary thing and not necessarily something to get into a twist about. I had been feeling great, had experienced a truly easy, morning-sickness-free pregnancy and had felt my baby move in the night, so I wasn’t even worried. I was a little concerned about the mess I had made of Mom’s bed. Oops. 

We? What’s this “we” business?

Oh. After I calmed her down enough to explain that yes, I had called my doctor, I wasn’t a complete moron despite my unplanned pregnancy, thank you very much, and he was no more shaken up than I about current events and had advised me to yes, come on into his office to be checked as soon as possible, but take my time, this was a first baby, after all, and not likely to be making an appearance any time soon, I learned that she intended to follow me and the Ex back to our city of residence so she could be present at the birth of the her first grandchild. Okay. Understandable desire, but really, lady, you’re going to have to calm the eff down if you’re going to be anywhere near me when I am in labor, I can tell you that already.

Luckily, I never had to actually say that to her, because after I returned to the living room after taking a shower and getting dressed in the Ex’s XXL sweatpants with bath towels stuffed down both legs and the in the crotch in a futile attempt to keep from trailing amniotic fluid everywhere I went, I discovered this:

Remember I said there had been an ice storm? While the Ex and I were getting dressed, my mother had gone outside to start her ancient wood paneled station wagon to warm up the engine and run the heater in preparation for the journey. While I didn’t see her tumble from the ice-covered concrete porch steps, I like to imagine it looked something like this:

I KNOW this defies all laws of physics and logic. It’s MY imagination, okay?

Yes, it was pretty obvious my mother had broken her arm. She lived by herself, and here I was with labor and delivery imminently approaching if everything I’d read and learned in birthing class was true. Way to screw up another milestone event in my life, Mom.

I called my uncle, who lived nearby, and told him to get his hungover ass up and dressed and come take my mother to the ER. I sat with her until he arrived and listened to her moan and groan and got her a trash can to puke in and a wet wash cloth for her face and eventually came to see the humor of the whole thing. I think I was brushing my hair when I burst out laughing.

“What the hell are you laughing about???” Dang, breaking her arm made her even crankier than her usual bitchy self.

“I was just thinking what a great birthday story this is going to make someday for the baby!” I chortled.

“UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU.”

Finally my uncle got there, and he completely agreed with me on the hilarity of the situation, which didn’t improve Mom’s mood one bit, but what did I care? I was out of there, on my way to have a BABY. Let him deal with her crabby ass.

The trip to the doctor’s office was uneventful, if uncomfortable, with all my soggy padding. The Ex is a careful and cautious driver and we navigated the icy roads without mishap.

Four hours later I arrived at my doctor’s office and still had experienced no labor pains. No cramping, no contractions, nothing. Just more water oozing from between my legs. Eccccchhh.

My doctor can be a real pain in the ass, sometimes. 

“Well, your water has broken,” he announced after shining that damn light up into my nether regions and poking around a bit. NO SHIT, SHERLOCK. I think I actually did say that. I don’t remember him being amused.

Then next thing he said I did not expect at all. “Go on over to the hospital [next door] and get checked in. I’ll be over in a half-hour or so. If you’re not doing anything by then, we’ll start your induction.”

What? Wait. Induction? Hospital? Now??? No! No, no, no, no. I’m supposed to go home, lie around on the couch maybe, wait for this labor to get cranking, time my contractions, have the Ex count my breathing LIKE WE PRACTICED. Then when my contractions are five—no, three, or even two, considering we live less than a block from the hospital—minutes apart, THEN I’ll go to the hospital. I haven’t even packed a bag! This baby wasn’t supposed to be coming for THREE MORE WEEKS.

Doc wouldn’t go for it. Something about protective barrier being gone, infection, longer the baby stayed in the more risk, blah, blah blah. . . Oh, yeah. . . I did remember something about that from birthing class. Well, damn. Ok. To the hospital I go.

I never did have any contractions. I got gowned and put in the birthing bed and strapped and hooked up to a bunch of tedious monitors and crap, IV started after the usual seven or so stabs and three different people’s efforts. Doc came in as promised and started the Pitocin drip, and OH MY GOD THE CONTRACTIONS, THE CONTRACTIONS, WTF IS HAPPENING TO ME???

This was not what I signed up for. I didn’t expect labor to be a day at the spa, but no one told me that Pitocin makes your body want to—no, DEMAND, with the insistent fury of thousand rabid bears being stung by African killer bees, to push push PUSH OHMYJESUSIHAVETOPUSHTHISBABYOUTOFMERIGHTNOW, but all these damn people in scrubs are hovering over you and saying asinine things like, “No, no, you’re not dilated,” “It’s not time, won’t be for a long time yet,” “NO! STOP PUSHING! BLOW! BLOW! BLOW!” and forcibly holding you down to keep you from curling over yourself as though you’re about to take the most epic dump in all of history.

Oh—and did I mention that after taking the birthing class, I for some reason decided I was going to be the Lamaze poster woman and have my baby without pain medication because I was BAD ASS, and I WOULD DO ANYTHING that was best for my unborn child? Yeah, and also I was terrified of the idea of someone sticking a needle in my back. Poke me anywhere else, I’ll even watch, but my spine? Ut uh, no way.

The Ex did his best. He tried to talk me through my breathing, deep cleansing breath in through the nose, slow out through the mouth, 1, 2, 3, 4 . . . The problem was, I had forgotten how crazily irritable being in excruciating discomfort tended to make me. I may have said something like, “Honey, I love you, but if you don’t shut the hell up and get away from me, I AM going to kill you. For reals.”

His feelings were hurt, but we had learned in the great birthing class THAT NEGLECTED TO INFORM ME WHAT A BITCH PITOCIN IS how labor can been unpredictable and women can act all hateful and shit and you just have to go with it if you know what’s good for you. The teacher had also cautioned us women not to make any absolute decisions about what we did or did not want during our labor and delivery, especially those of us who had never given birth before, because we really couldn’t know what we would or would not want once we were in the thick of things, so to speak, so it was always good to have a backup plan. Well, I knew I didn’t want an epidural, but I figured she knew what she was talking about, so the Ex and I had worked out this agreement that if I did cave under pressure and ask for an epidural, he was supposed to try to talk me out of it, but if I asked again, after three tries at talking me out of it, he was to tell them to bring on the anesthetist.

After TWELVE HOURS of shrieking, “I have to push!” and being told, “NO, DON’T PUSH, IT’S NOT TIME,” and fighting every fiber of my being to try not to push, and blow blow BLOWING, stick a fork in me, I was DONE. I turned to the Ex and said as rapidly as my panting would allow, “I want an epidural, I want an epidural, I WANT AN EPIDURAL RIGHT NOW.” For the first, and maybe the only, time in our marriage, he did exactly the right thing. He looked up and said, “Uh, she wants an epidural.”

AND CAN YOU GUESS WHAT THAT DAMN DELIVERY NURSE SAID? “Oh, no, it’s too late for that. It’s time for her to push.”

FINALLY. Oh, the sweet, sweet relief. I pushed. And I pushed. And I pushed. I pushed for an hour and a half. I was a pushing MACHINE. I knew nothing but to obey my body’s call and I pushed that kid OUT. And then there he was, and everyone was startled by how finished he was, for being three weeks early. He weighed eight pounds! My doctor said it was actually a good thing how things worked out, because that baby would have been way too big if I had gone all the way to my due date.

By that time I was exhausted, and ravenous, because of course I had had nothing but ice chips since a day and half earlier. I held my beautiful baby boy when someone placed him in my arms, took a brief look at him, said, “He’s pretty. Here, somebody take him.”

Yes, I really did that. Of course, just a little while later when I was in a regular room, I oohed and cooed over him and nursed him and did all those things a proper new mama should, but damn, I was tired. And hungry. Did I mention I was hungry? And it was 2:30 in the morning; the hospital kitchen was closed of course (small hospital in a small town) and so was everywhere else in town. This was the 80s, remember? No all-night Taco Bell or 24-hour Walmart then. One of the nurses scrounged around and found me a little cup of vanilla ice cream and some saltine crackers, and nothing had ever tasted so good.

The saltines were so good, in fact, that when the new nurse came on at six and checked my vitals and asked me what I had had, meaning of course a boy or a girl, according to her I smiled sweetly and said, “A cracker.”

Well, we WERE in Arkansas.

Oh—and my mom? She showed up later that day in a spectacular cast that reached from her hand to above her elbow. She had had to have SURGERY the day before and get pins and stuff. She actually had to have two more surgeries, if I remember correctly. She still insisted on holding her first grandchild. The Ex laid him across her cast and she quickly realized that was not such a good idea after all.

UPDATE>>> My son is now 23, and just as I am finishing this post, he and his beautiful girlfriend have come by to show me her ENGAGEMENT RING he just gave her today. I’m a happy, happy mom. 

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Tags:  funny birth story, bladder fail funny, pitocin birth stories, birth, birth stories, illustrated birth stories, birth story illustrated with funny drawings, hilarious birth stories, medical intervention, spontaneous rupture of membranes, birth stories with pictures, funny childbirth stories

Thank God for Stretch Pants...

Kristyn tells this tale: 

This one happened to a midwife colleague in my old practice, about 8 years ago. She was on call one night and I took over from her the next morning. She told me this story as she was reporting off and preparing to go home to bed.

That practice had a very large number of women from Mexico, Panama, and other points south of us here in Texas. As such, many of them came from and had large families, and many of these women themselves were born at home with a partera attending their moms, instead of having a more sterile hospital experience. Therefore, our patients were generally not afraid of labor and birth the way many of our American sisters are. They labored at home, listened to their bodies, and only came to the hospital when they absolutely had to. In many cases, they waited until their husbands got in from work, often ignoring the signs of labor until they had more support.

That evening, a woman did just that --- she was having baby #5 or 6, I think, and she knew her body very well. Her contractions started early in the afternoon, and her husband was out on a construction job. She knew he would be home by about 6. She called a friend to come watch her other children while she labored, got her bag ready, and waited for her husband to get home. She knew she and her baby would have to wait until he got home -- he had the car, he was her support, and she needed him. She talked to her baby through the afternoon, willing him to stay put until daddy was home.

As expected, her husband arrived around dinnertime, and was expecting to eat....but no, there were other things happening! She was so relieved to find him home, as her contractions had started to intensify as the afternoon wore on. They got into the car and quickly came to the hospital. Like most of us when we are laboring, she had put on the most comfortable outfit she could find -- stretch pants and a long t-shirt. Thank God for stretch pants!

They arrived at the hospital, parked, and rushed to the elevators. As they rode up to the L&D unit on the 3rd floor, her water broke and she immediately felt pressure. While walking the short distance from the elevator to the Triage Room, there was an overwhelming urge to push and suddenly, there was a baby!

Her husband ran down to Triage, shouting, "Mi bebe esta en sus pantalones! Bebe in pantalones!!" The midwife and the nurses were totally shocked by this -- "My baby is in her pants!" ?? What on earth could this poor man mean? Surely he was confused, right?

They ran into the hall only to find the strong but overwhelmed woman on her hands & knees, trying to figure out what to do. Sure enough, the large, squirming, crying bulge just inside the thigh of her stretch pants revealed that, yes, there WAS a baby in her pants!!