It ain't called LABOUR cuz it's easy - PART 3

Well the princess seems to be appeased at the moment, so it's time for the final countdown of Ottilia Leokadia's labour story...

Where we left off, it's about 4:30am.  I am in the hospital, screaming / begging for an epidural.  The nurse comes in and has me strip the whole way down to the leave-nothing-to-the-imagination open backed hospital gown. Frankly Scarlet, I just don't give a damn.  If my butt is showing, so is my back and to me, that's where the epidural goes, so this must mean that needle is coming soon!  Realize the irony of this - NEVER in my life, have I begged for a needle.  My history as a human pincushion seems to evaporate in favour of pain relief.  I wonder if pain medication came in the form of a pork chop if I would suddenly beg for my least favourite food too? OWWWWWWWWW... LESS PONDERING, MORE BEGGING! PLEASE GET ME THE DUDE WHO GIVES ME THE THINGIE TO MAKE ME HAPPY! (at this point, anesthesiologist is just too long a word for my primal brain to say)

Tyler appears in the room... Hi honey - OWWWW - Tyler makes the mistake of giving me his hand.  I seem to have developed the crushing power of a Kung Fu master.  Tyler's face turns some fascinating colour.  Hmmm... No more human hands - must find a rail or some inanimate object to grab.  Hello bed rails.  OWWWWWWWWW - Is it weird I swear I heard my bed cry?  I now understand the story of years ago, the iron rails in delivery rooms that got bent by women in labour - it doesn't seem like it would be difficult at all at this point in time.  WHERE IS MY F*ING EPIDURAL?!?

About 5:15, the anesthesiologist finally makes his way in - at this point, I am torn between hugging the man and strangling him for taking so long.  He's got this strong accent that funny enough, reminds me of Borat or some sort of other comedian-inspired character - that is, until he kicks my Mommy out of the room.  WTF?  Apparently, his experience is that mommies have a hard time watching the big bad needle go in their little girl's back, so he doesn't even want her in there - again, good thing there is no bed pan in close proximity.

So Momma leaves and Mr. Borat tells me I have to sit on the edge of the bed, with my back curved, leaning on the nurse while he puts in the needles.  NEEDLES?  Apparently, there's a first one that burns that makes room for the big boy that brings the pain medication.  And one more thing - DON'T even think of moving!  No matter how bad the contraction, how much it hurts, I have to remain perfectly still like a Shanny statue.  DEAL - JUST GET ON WITH IT!

The nurse puts a chair under my feet so I can put them somewhere, I try to open my knees wide enough for my belly to go between them, and curve my back as much as I can.  CRAP HERE COMES A CONTRACTION AGAIN.... try to go to Zen happy place - must not move.  Must not move.  Contractions keep coming and I feel the burning from needle one.  Then the dude complains that my epidural doesn't wanna go in.  Must stay in the position.  Another burning needle, more complaining that maybe I need to curve my back more - I LOOK LIKE THE F*ING HUNCHBACK OF NOTRE DAME!  More contractions, still can't move.  This feels like medieval torture.  Third try with another burning needle.  Third time that he seems to miss.  THIS GUY IS MORE BORAT THAN I WANTED IN AN ANESTHESIOLOGIST!  Finally, it seems that fourth try's a charm.  He leaves the room muttering.  I decide that this is a great place to forgive the man because at least it's in... OWWWWWW!  WHY IS IT STILL HURTING?!?  Nurse says it takes a little bit for the epidural to kick in.  IT BETTER KICK IN FAST - I WAS IN THAT STATUE POSITION FOR OVER HALF AN HOUR!

It's now about 5:55am.  Mommy's back.  Contractions are coming fast to the point that the nurse doesn't even ask Tyler to use his fancy new iPhone app to time them.  Need water.  Shit, I'm at the no-water point of delivery - only ice chips.  Ty becomes my ice chip bitch.  6am: OWWWW - epidural not working.  Nurse says to wiggle my toes. Done no problem.  WHY ISN'T IT WORKING YET? Nurse says that it should kick in in about 5 or 10 minutes.  So at 5 minute intervals, I am screaming, begging, and near tears because my toes are still wiggling and the pain is still pain-ing.  Nurse keeps telling me that just another 5 or 10 minutes until we hit 6:35 and I scream, IT'S BEEN 45 MINUTES!  WHAT THE HELL?!  The nurse looks at the clock and then checks me "down there", only to find I'm already dilated to 9cm.  You see her take a deep breath because of the extremely hard thing she has to tell me next - she has the look on her face of a TV doctor giving me bad news... Well, you see Shannon, sometimes, when labour progresses too fast, the epidural doesn't work.

WHAT THE FUCK?!?!? WHAT DO YOU MEAN IT DOESN'T WORK?  GET ME OTHER PAIN MEDICATION RIGHT NOW!  WHERE'S THAT LAUGHING GAS?  WHAT DO YOU MEAN IT'S TOO LATE FOR ANY MEDICATION?!?  I HAVE TO HAVE A (gasping to get the words and the idea through my head) NATURAL CHILDBIRTH?!?

You have to understand.  Some women have extremely detailed birth plans. Mine consisted of two words.  Pain medication.

Now here I am, almost completely dilated and the urge to push comes upon me like nothing I've ever felt before - almost like Montezuma's revenge on steroids (I worked in Mexico - me and Monty are old acquaintances) combined with passing a kidney stone.  Tell/scream to the nurse that I have to push - she tells me how I can't because my water hasn't broken yet.  Oh I forgot about that in all this insanity.  Shit.  Legs up in stirrups and someone (to this day, I don't remember who it was) suddenly stuck their hand up me down THERE, and then there was what felt like a tidal wave of warm liquid come pouring out of me onto these strategically place Bounty-strength pads placed under me. Picture the equivalent of drinking 3 or 4 Super Big Gulps and then laughing so hard you pee yourself.  Not that it's ever happened to me, but it's what I imagine it would be like...

So now to recap, the water has broken, I'm fully dilated, and I have a completely useless epidural needle in my back with the painful urge to push coming fast and furious.  I'm on my back in the always attractive stir-up position. Nurse mentions that the baby never dropped so I'm gonna have to push her all the way - WHAT THE F*K?!  THIS WAS ALSO NEVER MENTIONED AS A POSSIBILITY BEFORE!  It's 6:45 and the urge to push comes and now I am pushing for my life with everything I have.  At baby school, Sally told us to make sure we relax between pushes - you mean there's women that can't?!  In between, I basically collapse on the bed and bark "ICE" to Tyler so he keeps shoveling the ice chips in to my dry-as-the-desert mouth.   My back is killing me!  Turns out, the baby isn't in the exact right facing position so my labour acrobatics must begin.

First, the nurse has me turn on my side with my top leg up in the air and the nurse and my mom alternating having to hold it up so I push "into my bum" instead of "into my leg" - WHAT THE F*K EVER!   ICE!  After a half an hour or so of this position, now the nurse wants me in an even more flattering position. She raises the back of my bed to be completely vertical, and I sit up facing it, leaning over top of the back while raised up on my knees to push, with my ass in full view for the entire room to see. ICE! As a side note, it really is amazing how much you just don't give even a tiny itty bitty f*k about who sees your bits and pieces.  To be honest, I don't even know why I was in my paper ass-less wonder of a gown because it was only really covering my shoulders and occasionally a boob.

So I'm in the ass out position for a while and now it's time to go to the other side - TYLER. ICE. NOW. These ice chips would be some much better if they were in lime margarita form.  Then I probably wouldn't care that the epidural didn't work and maybe I'd at least earn some beads for the amount of people I'm flashing in this delivery room. 

My nurse tells me she's going off shift and introduces me to new nurse.  What do you mean there's a shift change?  Make a big mistake.  Look at the clock.  I'VE BEEN PUSHING FOR OVER AN HOUR - it's 8am!  As an aside, I start to wonder, where the f*k is the doctor?  I had a vision of a doctor delivering my baby, but this nurse has done everything, not even stopping for a pee break or anything.  OWWWWWWWWW HAVE TO PUSH AGAIN - FORGOT NEW NURSE'S NAME... JUST YELL "NEW NURSE!  NEED YOU!!" - better than get the f*k over here now, don't you think?

Well I guess little Tilly has gotten herself turned around because a little while later, I'm back on my back and the doctor has come in - it's about 8:30.  ICE!  Still pushing.  Getting sooooooooo tired.  I can FEEL her at the end of the birth canal - it's like the biggest poop of my LIFE is stuck down there.  My mom and Tyler and watching DOWN THERE with their eyes as big as saucers.  Apparently, it starts to open up a little and then close - like Sally said in baby school, two steps forward, one step back. I know they are starting to see her head.  I start begging the doctor to just take her out now.  YOU CAN SEE HER HEAD, CAN'T YOU JUST GRAB HER?!? Doctor smiles and just tells me to keep pushing.  I think I may have started crying - or that can be just what I remember.  New nurse asks me if I want to reach down and feel her coming out - NO!! I NEED TO CONCENTRATE!  MUST NOT GET DISTRACTED!!

Finally, I have the biggest push I've ever done - I can feel my face going purple and about 3 veins popping out of my forehead and SWOOSH - suddenly it's not tight down there any more, I feel another gush of liquid, and the doctor, in one swoop, has Tilly out of me and lying on my tummy.  Here she is - my baby girl and she's... PERFECT.  She's pink and there's barely any blood on her - she's just the most beautiful tiny human I have ever seen. 

I know other stuff happened, like her umbilical cord got cut by Tyler and I had to push out the placenta (which felt like a jellybean after the watermelon of Tilly-kins), but I didn't care.  New nurse then came to take Tilly to be cleaned up and her vitals taken while I got stitches DOWN THERE.  Doctor keeps telling me to keep my bum on the table as she proceeds to give me what looks like more stitches than if they were reattaching a digit.  I keep looking at tiny perfect human. 

She comes back to me and the doctor finishes the sew job - I think it's easier because the baby has distracted me.  I can't believe it - I did it.  And here she it, my tiny human...

So there it is - the story of my darling daughter's birth.  I will still keep blogging because already, there has been more things happen in the few weeks she's been out in the world than I ever would've imagined... And for people who've never had them, yes, the stitches SUCK!

It ain't called LABOUR 'cuz it's easy - PART 2

Where we left off, our heroine had been sent home, turned out from the hospital aka home of the pain medication.  Hi morphine - you're fun... wanna hang out and become my BFF?!

Get home about 2:30am and now I need to navigate the stairs.  I feel like a co-ed who just went to her first kegger - the stairs are looking mighty comfy...  Arms behind me propelling me to bed.  Hello bed - I love you. Fall face first onto mattress.  Pass out in the attractive one leg practically on the floor, mouth open with drool coming out and my arms starfished out to my sides.  I guess this is what I've been missing for 9 months since I couldn't drink? Everyone's off to bed - slight feeling of defeat once again.  Thought for sure this was it.  Oh well, at least I have December 5th's induction date to look forward to.

About 3:15, wake up with a start.  Holy crap!!  I feel like I need to take a really big... well, crap. Into the bathroom I go, being careful not to wake anyone up.  DAMMIT!  Nothing is coming out.  Let's try a bath - nope, not helping.  Hmm... did I take my Metamucil today?  Yes...  Well WTF?  Out of the tub, back on the "water closet" - interesting.  The pre-morphine pains are making a comeback like NKOTB.

Pooping urges are coming fast and furious - uh-oh.  The steak for dinner seems to be fighting me and... OH SHIT!  I'M ON THE TOILET AND I NEED TO THROW UP!  Hello bathtub...  Wow, even with my very worst hangover, I've never seen vomit like that...  Morphine giveth and morphine taketh away - with this puke-apalooza, the morphine is wearing off fast - OH THIS REALLY HURTS MORE THAN A POOP!!  MOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMMMMMMM...

It's now just about 4am - Momma calls the Labour and Delivery evil geniuses.  Apparently, with their magnificent 20/20 hindsight, they admit they probably shouldn't have sent me home.  Tell Momma to bring me back to the hospital.  Wake up Tyler and Dad, who can both sleep through anything, including a pregnant woman yelling, tell them we're going to the hospital to see if I am in actual labour this time and if I am, then Ty can come to the hospital.

Get into the car.  FRONT SEAT IS TOO STRAIGHT!!  I NEED TO GO IN THE BACK WHERE I CAN CONVULSE AND LAY DOWN!! Get to the hospital. I WANT A FRIGGIN' WHEELCHAIR! My poor mother is practically running down the hallway to the elevators - WHY ARE THE ELEVATORS SO F*ING FAR?! Get to Labour and Delivery - they throw me right back into the exact same room I vacated a mere 2 hours ago. 

Shannon, put your feet together and let your knees relax - NOT THIS A F*ING AGAIN!  Hmmm... Appears you're dilated to 3cm.  Congratulations, you're in labour.  I COULD'VE TOLD YOU THAT! (look around for a bedpan to throw - no luck).  Realization strikes - 3cm means I can get an epidural.  Start telling / yelling at anyone in a pair of scrubs that looks like they may be able to help me, I WANT AN EPIDURAL RIGHT NOW!  Yes Shannon, we will just get you admitted and sent to a delivery room and we'll get you your epidural - LESS PLACATING ME, MORE PAIN MEDICATION!

Mom needs to call Tyler so he can be here!  Nurse looks at Mom - there's no rush for him to get here... She's over 35 and it's her first baby - this baby's not coming for HOURS.  Oh yeah, because you guys have been so accurate to this point. Let's just be safe and get him here NOW. 

What is taking so long for this admitting and epidural-ing to happen? 

Time for Mommy to take another writing break - the benevolent dictator Ottilia has decided that the bassinet is no longer acceptable and that the Mommy needs to cuddle her now.  Only 18 years of indentured servitude left to go.

It ain't called LABOUR 'cuz it's easy - PART 1

Good news - woke up and still have a baby as opposed to still being pregnant, so now back to our regularly scheduled programming...

Where we left off, I was sore.  Being sore really doesn't seem that weird, but it felt... different.  I know, I know.  Way to be vague Shan.  The closest thing I can think of is that it reminded me of eating a bad taco and how your stomach is just sore while it tries to decide whether to throw it up or push it on through to the intestines.  But not exactly, just kind of...

Then, about 11:30 - quarter to 12, the pains took on a life of their own.  It was sore and then it got more sore and more sore until OH MY GOD THIS FRIGGIN' HURTS to a little less sore and a little less, and then A LOT MORE HURT!!!!!!!!!!! This went on for a while and I did the only thing I could think of - I went to the toilet.  I'm being blunt here and not pulling any punches, because, really, how else could I make it sound nice while still being accurate?  "I visited the water closet whilst spritzing lavender water and singing the soundtrack to 'Oklahoma'?"

Anyhoo, after a few very uncomfortable minutes on the abode, I wipe to find blood - quite a bit of blood - and looking into the toilet-y abyss, I see what I've described before as a ginormous booger-like substance.  Hmmm...  Me thinks this is the elusive "mucus plug" or in flowery niceties, "the gelatinous precursor to birth."  Wake up Mom.  Show her gelatinous precursor and bloody TP.  Not much help - crap, where's Sally, my pre-natal baby class teacher when I need her?!?

Uh-oh - standing not so good.  Now the soreness waves are coming faster and hurting more, but still no breaks in between.  I remember paying very close attention to the description of contractions in baby school and Sally said there was a peak and then relaxation.  WHERE THE F*K IS THE RELAXATION PART?  Wake up Tyler, grab packed yoga bag - maybe we better go to the hospital just in case.

Into the car with the 3 of us and the pain is getting worse - this has got to be labour! Although me and Sally are definitely gonna have a talk about the promise of relaxation breaks.  Get to the hospital, into emergency, whisked up to the "Labour and Birth" ward and hand them the pregnancy papers I've been walking around with for a month or so.

The resident looks at the papers and says I need to go to an exam room so they can decide if they're going to admit me.  YOU MEAN THERE'S A QUESTION?!?!? The resident tells me to undress, I get helped onto the bed, and get told to put the soles of my feet together as close to my bum as possible, then relax my knees so they can check if I'm dilated... and then the resident shoves her F*ING FIST UP "THERE" MAKING THE PREVIOUS DAY'S RIM JOB SEEM LIKE A F*ING TIP TOE THROUGH THE TULIPS!!!! (Exasperated) Shannon, keep your knees relaxed. HOW ABOUT YOU COME UP HERE AND RELAX YOUR KNEES WHILE I SHOVE A FIST UP YOUR TWAT?!?

Resident: Shannon, you're not in labour. You're only 1 cm dilated.
Me: Excuse me?
Resident:  This is a side effect of having your membranes stripped
Me: Uh, this friggin' hurts and that was done at 9:30 this morning (while thinking - you are on crack lady.  Someone bring me Meredith Grey from Grey's Anatomy and she'll tell me I'm in labour)
Resident: That can happen.  Gonna give you some morphine and send you home.
Me: GRRRRRRRRRRRRRR (but don't say anything because I really want the morphine.  It's the closest thing I have to a birth plan - pain medication and lots of it.)

So the needle comes (whoopee) and I get shot up with some of the good stuff.  About 15 minutes later, the pain waves have changed to complete, blissful oblivion, like when you've drank your weight in margaritas and tequila poppers.  The pain waves may very well still exist, but now I just don't give a damn.  Told to lay in the bed for a while 'til they know I'm okay.  I hear the nurse, but for some reason I have a big smile on my face and think she's actually a character from a Pixar film.  I don't know which one, maybe a to-be-released film "Toy Story 5" where Buzz and Woody are replaced Pokey the needle and Splashy the bed pan.

An hour later, the nurse comes in to the room to tell me they've gotten busy and need the bed and staff so they're gonna send me home now.  JUST IN CASE, they give the phone number of Labour and Delivery to my mom and I get kicked to the curb.  Tyler comes in the room because along with my cartoon fantasies, my legs seem to have a bit of a mind of their own and walking is not on the top of their priority list.

So at about 2:15am, I'm wheeled out of the hospital and sent home to "sleep it off"...

Gotta stop for a bit there... time to get up and pump for the muffin cup aka. put on the milking machine.  Wow I wish someone had told me about the glamorous stuff I got to do when I became a Mommy.