Code: Maternal Misery…

     The doctors famous words the whole last month of the pregnacy of my second was “if you make it to 36 weeks“… something happens to a pregnant mind when a woman gets to be in the end of the 3rd trimester.  The doctor says tha. The only thing I heard was at 36 weeks is the day you are allowed to push that baby out and finally lay on your stomach. This was my 2nd child and I wasnt new to this rodeo but the entire pregnancy of this baby was so catastrophically different from my first that buy 35 weeks I was done, and I mean done. 
     My feet and ankles swollen. I was still working full time as a RN. Hoping and praying crazily everyday that pulling and tugging on fatass patients would throw me into labor. At that point I’d be carefully whisked away from my floor to maternity and that stabbing pain of what could only be described as Chucky trying to gnawl his way out of my who-ha would stop. 


Above is a picture I drew at the time depicting how I felt. There is a arrow with the words bones not balls because right in between my legs felt like a bone was going to shatter out and around the belly were various body parts poking out and sharp objects stabbing me. I truly feel that picture was accurate and im glad I took a picture of it. Ill show it to her when she is older. 
      From the first pregnancy I knew at this point which ways to get the baby out yourself would not work. 
1.  Walking: a complete waste of time. I walked everyday. Babies were not flying out of the portal down there
2.  Castor oil: the mere thought of how I drank this not once but twice makes me cringe. Coincidentally it also brings back a burning feeling that I dont think any woman who can barely touch her ass should ever feel. 
3. Wine: although it tasted good… it was a great excuse
4. Walking up the stairs backwards: NO.
5.  yelling GET OUT OF MY BELLY: although humorous. No

    So I knew what I had to do. I needed to try new ideas. I have the internet, right?  So I looked them up and at 35.5 weeks I began like a dumbass actively trying to have this baby. These ideas do also do not work at 35 weeks. 
1.  Tweaking your nipples. Yea I did it. Lets just say no and move on.
2.  Warm compresses to the nipples. No. But it did feel nice after I practically ripped my NEMS (as the boy calls them) right off my chest.
3. Sex. Can you fathom how awkward sex with a completely uncomfortable woman who is the literal size of a home could be? No one enjoys that. Correction pregnant women dont enjoy that.  I swear once upon a time somewhere a man spoke to the doctor and said doc you gotta help me out. Its going to be at least 6 weeks before I can get in there again and even then its not going to be good. And the doctor said sure I’ll tell her that your sperm will dialate her. After receiving such information the woman then becomes a sex addict. For no damn reason. 


     So I made it to 35 weeks and 6 days. Still no wild child that day but as the evening went on I felt awful. I was sick with bronchitis.  I couldn’t breathe and I was miserable cause my body hurt to exist.  While laying in bed I started to feel numb. Not a good ignore it numb but like my nose and mouth were asleep in a triangle on my face. My fingers were tingling and I was having really really bad back pain. I suddenly became scared because something was wrong, I knew it.  We woke the oldest up and toted ourselves into L&D triage.  I walked the whole way because I was still determined. The doctor had told me 4 days ago that IF I made it to 36 weeks he would let me have the baby and wouldn’t stop the labor. As midnight struck a little party was going off in my head. Yes folks this is the point where I believe I lost my mind.  My face was numb my, fingers numb, I feel dizzy and like something isnt right… I can still have this baby.
     The nurse broke my concentration celebration by yelling “OMG! HON your numb cause your O2 sat is only 79-82%!! UM,  lets get some oxygen on you. The intern then came in and assessed me. While this is going on im watching the fetal monitor. I was having contractions and I could NOT be any happier.  I was practically dying cause I couldnt breathe but this child was coming out tonight. My doctor promised me that if I made it to 36 weeks I would be allowed to deliver. I look at the clock. BAM 12:06! I’m 36 weeks baby! Let’s do this. I’m all pumped up. I’m all excited… I am not paying attention.  I slightly hear something come from the interns mouth something about get me some Turbutaline.
     The nurses scaramble, I watch as everything suddenly goes darker and in slow motion.  I don’t feel well. I feel out of breath, I feel… am I dying? Cause this baby is coming.  Those contractions are getting stronger and this urge to bear down is happening and everyone is running around like its game time. I look over to my husband who looks like he is frozen. But I am still happy because here in a lil while I’ll be holding my baby because its 36 weeeeeeekkkkssss…. and thats when the intern shot me with Turbutaline.
     I’m a nurse. I should know the generic name for brethine but sadly I did not. I shot my head from looking at my husband to glaring at the intern in 1.4 secs. Everything that was going at in slow motion was now on friggin speed. I WAS ON SPEED! As my whole body began to shake from the medicine that intern shoved into me I yelled at the intern, “NO YOU SON OF A BITCH YOU STOPPEEEDDDDD ITTTTTT” 
     Proud… Proud, he looked proud. He saved my life and if I could have stopped shaking long enough to choke him with my bare hands I would have done so until his eyeball came out.  My labor was stopped. The lines on the screen were flat. There was no more contractions. I was no longer in labor. And he had the nerve to say, “What? You can’t push a baby out Beth if you can’t breathe.” And as if it were end scene of the reality show called my life, he said nothing else and walked out of the room. I shook my head and whispered, but I made it to 36 weeks. Like an ass. This should have been my first clue of unfortunate events were going to happen.
        *Cue law and order music*

     36 weeks and 4 days I was sitting in the waiting room of my OB-GYN. Miserable. By this point the picture I had drawn was no longer valid because it felt as if I were carrying Freddy friggin Krueger in there. My feet hurt, I was still working full time cause I’m stubborn, and I was not taking no for an answer today.
     My first pregnancy I went 42 weeks and had to be induced because of no progression. Therefore this made it… take no shit Monday. The thought of moving around like this for 6 more weeks made me anxious. I was still pissed at the intern for saving me. And to be honest never truly realizing the awesome feeling he must of had until a few minutes ago while writing this.  But on this Monday I hated him because he screwed up… The plan.
     After talking with my doctor and hearing something very similar to you’ll shoot your eye out only it was you can’t have a baby Beth if you can’t breathe. I finally remembered and became a nurse for a minute instead of the insane patient. Breathing trumps everything. 

     I spoke with this man and made a new plan. He let me in on the fact he was going to California on Valentine’s day and would be leaving the night before around 6pm and that he would be out of town. I suddenly panicked.  That’s when I’ll have the baby… when he is gone. So I struck a deal with him and he got on the phone to schedule the birth. He stared oddly at me the whole time he spoke. “Yes. I know just schedule it the 13th… reason: maternal misery.” Never breaking his glare from me. It struck me odd his choice of words.  I was almost certain that maternal misery was code for THIS BITCH IS A PAIN IN MY ASS. And it was true. I was a huge pain im sure of it.  This should of been my second clue. 

          *law and order sound byte*

     5:00 am Thursday morning Feburary the 13th 2008 I woke and threw myself out of bed. Our oldest was with my parents, our bags were packed and in the car already so all we had to do was drive into town to the hospital and at some point today I would be holding this wild baby.  This baby that never stopped moving. A baby that I was almost positive that had the largest amount of hair ever due to the heartburn I was having. Today was the day.  So I of course had to shake my husband awake. We went down stairs opened the garage door and WHAT THE HELL ?? Where did this blizzard come from? There was at least a foot of snow on the road from where I stood.
     I look over and my husband starts walking over to the garage door opener and taking his coat off. I yelled what are you doing?  And innocently he says What?  Beth we dont have to do this today. Its not like you are actively in labor.  We’ll just call… I lost it.  Somehow in my mind this was Christmas.  I had to have her today. I started crying and yelled if your not going to drive us then I will (cue demonic voice) GET IN THE CAR. I was told that if i didnt get there by at least 6 am that my bed may be given away and I would have to wait. This was NOT happening.  He shrugged his shoulders, called me a few choice words and got in the car.
     If you know me you knew at that point in my life driving through snow terrified me. But for 13 miles and a hour in a half later I shoved snow with my G6 like there was a plow on the front of it, like a boss.  The whole way my husband looked like he could either kill me or that he needs to bail out of this car at any momment. But we made it. We were the only ones who showed up to have an elective induction that morning.  This should have been my last and final warning that shit was about to get messed up. 
     By 8 am I was sitting in my bed I had just gotten my epidural. I was only dilated 3 and 100% effaced but I knew I shouldn’t mess around.  The pitocin was uncomfortable and I was squirming with each contraction. Soon the epidural will take effect and I’ll be fine. I tried to order lunch to the nurse and she laughed. She said,  um yeah I believe you’ll still be in labor. I gave her the evil glare and asked her sternly to make sure she tell them to put a can of mountain dew on the tray because I really really wanted one and it would taste so good right about now.
      My first birthing experience in no way prepared me for what was about to happen. With the oldest I was given more or less a spinal.  That doctor juiced me up so good that I made up contractions based upon the size of my moms eyes.  So I had no idea what labor pains felt like. It was 1030 and I was giving this student the best H&P ever. Suddenly I felt this burn and a pressure that I was confused about.  Why am I feeling anything?… I have an epidural right?  So I asked the student to go get the nurse she is obviously going to have to titrate something. Princess can feel down there. So the nurse came in rolling her eyes and said ok lets have a look. She lifted the covers huffing and puffing and then stopped and our eyes met. She suddenly had the game face on.  I know this look. Its kind if a mixture of oh shit and ITS ON. I said, get the doctor in about the calmest most psycho voice ever. 
     At this point I realized that sign one, sign two and more importantly sign three were trying to tell me that this is about to be a disaster of unfortunate events.  My epidural? Not working. In fact not at all. My lungs? Working just fine. Three counties over could hear me ask why isnt that friggin epidural working??? Then my doctor became the coach.  He stood there looked me dead in the eye and said Beth, listen to me. This is going to hurt. Its going to hurt a lot. The ONLY way its going to feel better is if you push her out. Do you hear me in there?

Loud. And. Clear.

    The things that came out of my mouth were told to me by my husband and the nurses because I truly dont remember much of what I said.  I do remember at one point begging to take a break. Begging for it.  Then the best ever maternity nurse, Mary, took my hand and looked my hand and looked into my eyes almost like an angel and yelled SUCK IT UP AND SHOVE HER OUT! I’ve never really admired a nurse as much as her until that day.
     What seemed like it was taking an eternity was only in reality taking 15 minutes and six years ago today on Thursday February the 13th, 2008 at 11:15 am weighing in a 6 pounds and 5 ounces and 19 inches long came my wild child miss Emily Rae… And they were right the pain suddenly disappeared. It was awe inspiring.
     And when it was all said and done the nurse wrapped her up, handed her to me, and then poured me a mountain dew.


Happy 6th birthday Wild one.





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