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.
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