"I'm freaking out about how this baby is going to come out of me". My newly pregnant sister in law is staring at me with complete horror in her eyes. I remember being in her shoes two years earlier. Being just as terrified. Making my girlfriends recite their labour stories over and over again. Spending countless hours researching the different ways this event could go down. I remember this feeling oh so well. The fear of the complete unknown. I didn't know if I should give her the cold hard truth, or if I should candy coat it. While I know that all labour experiences are different, I decided to be honest. I'm not very good at candy coating anything. Here's how the shit went down. Hint : It was no fucking picnic.
I was 38 weeks pregnant when my doctor decided to induce me. There was a little swelling on the babies kidney, and the doctor thought the best thing was to get him out so they could make sure everything was ok. I arrived at the hospital at 8am, and was hooked up and ready to go at about 8:45. At this point the only thing that hurt was the IV they stuck in my vein. I was progressing along. My mom came in for a quick visit, and as the nurse looked over the machine that I was attached too, I was feeling pretty good. She informs me that I'm getting a couple of contractions,and things are moving along as they should'
"I'm getting contractions"? I ask "They actually don't feel that bad"
My mom and the nurse look at each other and start laughing. "Just wait" my mom says.
I don't know why they're laughing. I think to myself. Maybe I just have a higher pain tolerance then these bitches.
I thought too soon, About 20 minutes later the REAL contractions start to hit. Holy fucking shit.
I try to breathe through them. It's not working. I try and move around, there not getting any better, there getting worse. My husband asks if I'm ok. No, I'm not fucking ok, it feels like someone just hit me with a sledge hammer. I tell the nurse I want the epidural, like fucking yesterday. She leaves and comes back to tell me the anesthesiologist will be about a half hour. A half hour? Are you fucking kidding me? What am I suppose to do until then? I choose to roll around the hospital bed in pain and whine like a three year old until I get my own way. The contractions are coming more frequent and more intense. This baby is trying to kill me, I'm 100% positive that is whats happening.
Anesthesiologist enters the room to do his thing. Not before him and my husband talk about the Lions football game that is currently happening.
I feel some relief. But not for long. I'm told its go time. I push...........and push.......and push. An hour and a half later, nothing. I tell the one nurse that it feels like this baby is going to tear through my asshole. My husband it trying to be a good coach, but I'm seriously thinking about ripping his stupid head off.
The doctor shows up again, and tells me I have two choices....c section or forceps. I don't really give a fuck what method you choose, just please, please, please get this baby out of me.
Forceps it is, and within 10 minutes he is out.
The nurses and doctor are congratulating us, my husband is in awe, and I'm vibrating. I hear him cry. I hear the doctor say he is healthy and perfect. I tell the nurse I cant stop shaking. "That's because you loss quite a bit of blood" she says to me smiling. Oh, ok, no big deal I guess.
Finally after all the chaos they put him in my arms. The most perfect thing I have ever seen.
Like I told my sister in law, labor is not pretty. Only those in the delivery room know what goes down. There's ripping, cutting, and things that are just fucking crazy. Knowing all of that, and being through it, I would do it again. The end result is worth all that pain and craziness. Yep I would do it all over again......... in a heart beat.
Me and my little Marshmallow