Friday, June 15, 2012

The (less than ideal) arrival of Ricardo Jr. Part I

I went into labor in the morning on December 29th, my due date.  At the time, I took this as a sign that my delivery was going to be just as smooth as my pregnancy had been.  I had my 40 week check-up with my OB that morning and my husband had some last minute work to do so I confidently sent him on his way and planned to wait out my contractions on my labor ball until he returned to take me to my appointment.

We plan, God laughs.  

Almost the second the garage door closed a contraction hit me like a ton of bricks.  There is no way to describe a contraction to someone who hasn't had one.  They are mind numbingly painful.  I calmly pulled out my "What to expect. . . " and decided on taking a shower to work through the pain and then start to prepare for the hospital.  I knew we would not be making it to the appointment.  My contractions were already only 4 minutes apart.  The shower did nothing for the pain.  I got out quickly and jumped right back on my labor ball.

Bounce, bounce, bounce. . . 

Between contractions I would jump up and grab whatever I would need to finish getting ready.  The contractions were coming on so strongly and quickly that I ended up covering the edge of our bed as well as the entire windowsill with make-up, brushes, lotion, as well as things I wanted to remember to pack.  

Bounce, bounce, bounce, bounce, bounce. . . 

Finally, I'd had enough.  I called Ricardo and begged him to come. Home. NOW!!  It was time.  I can only imagine what was going through Ricardo's head when he walked in and saw me on a yoga ball, bouncing like a crazed energizer bunny surrounded by everything from chargers and cameras to bronzer and waterproof mascara.  God bless that man, he didn't miss a beat.  He grabbed a bag and tossed everything in and started packing like a maniac while I barked orders from my blessed ball.


Finally, when the car was packed and a towel was laid on the passenger seat (just in case), we were off.    When we arrived at the hospital we checked in at the information booth and were assigned to a young volunteer who's duty was to wheel me up to the birthing center.  I tell you now, I could've crawled mid-labor faster than this young innocent was wheeling me.  The Peach at information whispered, "Sorry, it's only his second day." to me as he was fumbling around with the foot rest on my ride.

Swell.  Thanks.  I'm totally in the mood to be the test dummy right at this moment.

Oh and P.S. Ol' Wet Behind the Ears got lost on his way to the birthing center.  WE had to tell HIM where the ELEVATORS were located.

As soon as we were situated in the check-in room we were greeted by my first angel, Karen, the nurse assigned to me.  She was tough and kind.  She didn't even try not to roll her eyes when I said no to the pitocin and calmly chided, "You'll change your mind." I loved her instantly.  Somehow she had deduced that my refusal of the pitocin meant I was refusing ALL drugs and was going to do this this au natural method.  A miscommunication that I was not made aware of for a very painful 2 hours!  Luckily they had their own yoga ball of sweet relief and once I had been checked into my birthing suite and sent Ricardo off to get our bags from the car I got right back to a-bouncin'.  I thought it was perfectly normal that I had not been offered the epidural yet, as I was not yet 5 cm dilated.  Not true.  Karen came into my room with a "you're starting to annoy me" look on her face.

"You know, you don't HAVE to through all of this pain.  It's only going to get worse.  Explain to me WHY you don't want an epidural?"

I DEFINITELY wanted the epidural.  I just didn't want to be rushed through delivery like some sort of baby makin' assembly line.  I wanted to TRY to let my body do what it was made to do.  I had no intention of FEELING my body do it though! I told her as much.  She laughed at me, a relieved smile on her face.

"Sweetie, once you have the epidural in place, you won't care what else the pump in to it."

Wimp that I am, I was already beyond caring.  I verbally checked yes to all of the above and got ready for what, I believed, was going to be the worst part of the entire ordeal.  In reality, this would be the last thing that actually went right. . .