Birth Story: Part I
Ah, nine days ago, my husband and I were blessed with a small version of ourselves. She came into the world on her own terms-- who doubted that would be her process? Certainly not me! Baby K has rocked our very stable world for the past nine days. Who knew that such a small person could control two big people, one cat and three dogs? For those interested, below is part one of her (crazy) birth story. Part two is coming soon... along with the adventures of being a mom. Holy crap, I am someone's MOM. Jeez.
I knew early on that I wanted to deliver by c-section. Often, when other preggos would discuss their birth plans, I would just remain quiet because I did not want to hear the bullshit status quo answers like "your body was made for this (vaginal delivery)" or "don't let your doctor talk you into a (horrible) c-section" or (my [non] favorite) "don't you want to KNOW that you can deliver your baby like women have been for thousands of years?" Uh, hell no. Listen ladies, I don't have time for the craziness and I am not a superhero. I knew I wanted to safely deliver a child. That is it. I didn't need the lectures-- and truthfully, I didn't respond well to them. The smartass in me could only take so much. I talked to my doctor about the surgery- he was hesitant and recommended that I see a high risk specialist (because this pregnancy was high risk from the beginning). My mom and I went to see the specialist together so we could discuss family history and all and after that meeting, we all (except mom) came to the conclusion that c-section was the way to go. It was put on the books around week 33. All was set... or so I thought.
The night before my scheduled surgery I could not sleep. I mean insomnia hit me bad the last 6 weeks of pregnancy anyway, so the fact that I was awake was absolutely no surprise to me, but it would have been nice to catch some zees before surgery. Add to that the fact that I could not eat OR drink anything for 8 hours before surgery-- as a full term pregnant lady-- and you should feel my pain. I wasn't nervous, I just could not close my eyes and go to sleep. Surgery was scheduled for 8 am and we had to be at the hospital two and a half hours early. I had planned to wake up at 4:00am to shower (again) with this surgical soap, so around 2:00 am I had given up on getting sleep. Good thing, I guess because right around 3:15-3:30 I started to have contractions. Ok, not those punk ass Braxton Hicks contractions either. I mean, I hated those too, but I only experienced them once or twice in a 24 hour period. These lovely contractions were hard hitting and coming every 20 to 25 minutes. Y'all, I was NOT ready. Totally no shame in my game, when those contractions hit I was thanking my lucky stars I was not going to give birth vaginally. Nope, NOT.FOR.ME.
Since the contractions were not super close together AND we were headed to the hospital anyway I decided not to wake hubs, get my ass in the shower and get ready to go. Can I tell you how hard it is to shower while having a contraction? Near impossible. Ouch. Warm water comforts contractions, but still... ouch. When I get out of the shower hubs is awake and ready to go. Car is packed- we head out. It is 5:05 am. Ohio State Medical Center is 6 miles away from our house. Those were the bumpiest, longest 6 miles of my life. Of.My.LIFE. There was one stoplight in particular that seemed to be red for HOURS. Seriously, I wanted to get out and walk to the hospital. We finally get to the Labor and Delivery check in desk-- I had pre-registered (highly recommend). Man, I didn't want to talk to that super chipper lady. I mean, I was totally being a hater but she looked fully hydrated and I hadn't had a drink of freaking water in 6 hours. I wanted to fight her for her bottled water, but that is neither here nor there. She was very nice and after checking my insurance (for the millionth time) she walked me back to the prep/recovery area in between contractions.
Hubs gets to have a seat in a comfy chair, I get to show everyone my hoo-ha, lying on puppy training pads while wearing a backless muumuu. They did give me warm, skidless socks so fair, right? During contractions nurses are in and out asking me the same questions over and over again. I looked at the clock and oh my sweet Jesus it was only 6:30. Is time standing still in this prep room?! They hook me up to a baby monitor where they could track Baby K's heart beat and my contractions, which seemed to be coming more frequently. Questions, questions, questions... all the while I felt like a little alien was trying to burrow her way out of my uterus, using razor sharp infant fingernails and a rusty spoon from God knows where. Hurt.So.Bad. I took a bathroom break, came back and got shaved by a very nice nurse (and isn't your ONE wish during c-section prep; that the middle aged woman shaving your vagina has fabulous manners? Mine too.) Just when you thought the prep fun was over, here comes a doctor - easily a decade my junior - with a portable ultrasound machine. Doogie Howser whips out some cold gel and finds our little human in utero. Her head is not down. Nope. She is breech. Transverse (in a sideways position). At 39 weeks. Transverse babies cannot be born vaginally, so I was going to have a c-section anyway. I signed a few bits of paperwork saying that I wouldn't hold Ohio State liable for the dangers of surgery and was whisked away into a cold OR to meet the kid that had been kicking my ass for the past 10 months.
I knew early on that I wanted to deliver by c-section. Often, when other preggos would discuss their birth plans, I would just remain quiet because I did not want to hear the bullshit status quo answers like "your body was made for this (vaginal delivery)" or "don't let your doctor talk you into a (horrible) c-section" or (my [non] favorite) "don't you want to KNOW that you can deliver your baby like women have been for thousands of years?" Uh, hell no. Listen ladies, I don't have time for the craziness and I am not a superhero. I knew I wanted to safely deliver a child. That is it. I didn't need the lectures-- and truthfully, I didn't respond well to them. The smartass in me could only take so much. I talked to my doctor about the surgery- he was hesitant and recommended that I see a high risk specialist (because this pregnancy was high risk from the beginning). My mom and I went to see the specialist together so we could discuss family history and all and after that meeting, we all (except mom) came to the conclusion that c-section was the way to go. It was put on the books around week 33. All was set... or so I thought.
The night before my scheduled surgery I could not sleep. I mean insomnia hit me bad the last 6 weeks of pregnancy anyway, so the fact that I was awake was absolutely no surprise to me, but it would have been nice to catch some zees before surgery. Add to that the fact that I could not eat OR drink anything for 8 hours before surgery-- as a full term pregnant lady-- and you should feel my pain. I wasn't nervous, I just could not close my eyes and go to sleep. Surgery was scheduled for 8 am and we had to be at the hospital two and a half hours early. I had planned to wake up at 4:00am to shower (again) with this surgical soap, so around 2:00 am I had given up on getting sleep. Good thing, I guess because right around 3:15-3:30 I started to have contractions. Ok, not those punk ass Braxton Hicks contractions either. I mean, I hated those too, but I only experienced them once or twice in a 24 hour period. These lovely contractions were hard hitting and coming every 20 to 25 minutes. Y'all, I was NOT ready. Totally no shame in my game, when those contractions hit I was thanking my lucky stars I was not going to give birth vaginally. Nope, NOT.FOR.ME.
Since the contractions were not super close together AND we were headed to the hospital anyway I decided not to wake hubs, get my ass in the shower and get ready to go. Can I tell you how hard it is to shower while having a contraction? Near impossible. Ouch. Warm water comforts contractions, but still... ouch. When I get out of the shower hubs is awake and ready to go. Car is packed- we head out. It is 5:05 am. Ohio State Medical Center is 6 miles away from our house. Those were the bumpiest, longest 6 miles of my life. Of.My.LIFE. There was one stoplight in particular that seemed to be red for HOURS. Seriously, I wanted to get out and walk to the hospital. We finally get to the Labor and Delivery check in desk-- I had pre-registered (highly recommend). Man, I didn't want to talk to that super chipper lady. I mean, I was totally being a hater but she looked fully hydrated and I hadn't had a drink of freaking water in 6 hours. I wanted to fight her for her bottled water, but that is neither here nor there. She was very nice and after checking my insurance (for the millionth time) she walked me back to the prep/recovery area in between contractions.
Hubs gets to have a seat in a comfy chair, I get to show everyone my hoo-ha, lying on puppy training pads while wearing a backless muumuu. They did give me warm, skidless socks so fair, right? During contractions nurses are in and out asking me the same questions over and over again. I looked at the clock and oh my sweet Jesus it was only 6:30. Is time standing still in this prep room?! They hook me up to a baby monitor where they could track Baby K's heart beat and my contractions, which seemed to be coming more frequently. Questions, questions, questions... all the while I felt like a little alien was trying to burrow her way out of my uterus, using razor sharp infant fingernails and a rusty spoon from God knows where. Hurt.So.Bad. I took a bathroom break, came back and got shaved by a very nice nurse (and isn't your ONE wish during c-section prep; that the middle aged woman shaving your vagina has fabulous manners? Mine too.) Just when you thought the prep fun was over, here comes a doctor - easily a decade my junior - with a portable ultrasound machine. Doogie Howser whips out some cold gel and finds our little human in utero. Her head is not down. Nope. She is breech. Transverse (in a sideways position). At 39 weeks. Transverse babies cannot be born vaginally, so I was going to have a c-section anyway. I signed a few bits of paperwork saying that I wouldn't hold Ohio State liable for the dangers of surgery and was whisked away into a cold OR to meet the kid that had been kicking my ass for the past 10 months.
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