Labor Day, part duex
Got up the next day, his due date, and went to my doctor’s appt. I was like…hm, I think my water broke last night. They checked and said, yes, it did. It really just kinda tore, not broke. They said, ok, we are admitting you. I said, all right.
Oh by the way, I’ve been having this weird pain in my stomach every so often. She felt my stomach and it did it again. She was like, yeah, that’s a contraction.
A very minor contraction, which she didn’t tell me, instead, I start thinking…that was a contraction? This should be easy. I know, I shoulda been smacked.
They get me into my room, and put all sorts of shit on me. Antibiotics in the hand, since my water had really tore the night before, monitor on my stomach. I get all excited and start calling people like crazy. First work, not coming in, I’m having a baby! Then friends, guess what, I’m having the baby.
Friends start showing up. Ben, Jesse, Heather, Heather, Heather, and Paul. Jake later, since the evil that is Taco Bell wouldn’t let him leave early. Prolly more, I’m not sure on that. And my mom, of course. I’m still relatively comfortable, until they say…well, your contractions aren’t strong enough.
And they rolled out the pitocin machine. It’s a bad, evil drug. It made everything so much worse. This is when I really start to not remember what the hell went on. I’m sure I cussed, and at one point, they said, well, the contractions are harder, but now they won’t even out, so they had to turn the pitocin up. I begged them not to, they did anyways!
Right about then was when I started asking for some drugs. They said soon.
I even started talking to the contractions…no, no, go away!
They had the drug guy come in and I was talking to the contractions, the nurse was like…I thought you wanted medicine.
I said, I do, I do. I’m not talking to you, I’m talking to the contractions, dammit!
They stuck a huge needle in my back, and I was much happier.
Like oh my god, I love you happy.
Paul felt my toes and I heard jokes for years about how I have no feet, cause I couldn’t feel them.
They all cleared out so I could rest. Pulp Fiction was playing, and I was happy!
At 10, they checked me, and told me I hadn’t progressed. I was still at 5. They were not happy with this, seeing as how my water had been “broke” for almost a day.
They said, ok, we are gonna do a C-section and people FREAKED out. I was like…please, I was this to be over, and I just want to go to sleep and wake up with a baby.
Jake was losing it, people were worried, I felt like telling them, c’mon this is a fairly common procedure and I’m gonna be fine, but I didn’t have the energy.
That was about 10:00 that night. My mother had just left for the only time that day and Jake didn’t want to watch. Jake didn’t think he could deal. I didn’t want to watch either, so it ended up being between That Girl and Heather, you people who know That Girl, know how funny this is. I was like, you decide, I am not about to pick one or the other when I am in labor.
That girl ended up coming in. I was like….You’re not gonna make me watch, right? They were like, not if you don’t want to.
It was strange, I didn’t hurt, but I felt them moving stuff around. I was like….hmm, I really don’t like this. They told me as soon as they had him out they would put me all the way under.
I woke up a half-hour later in a different room, going, where’s my baby? Where is he?
They brought him to me and he looked so dark. He had a little bit of jaundice and he looked native American almost. A bunch of dark hair, right on the top. It was beautiful.
So was the morphine drip, a nurse came into my room and said something like…oh, she’s so cute, and I said, yes, she is. I was so out of it. This was a sign of things to come, that boy was so darling that everyone thought he was a girl.
After three days, I got to go home and walk upstairs to our apartment. THAT was fun. I went straight home and gorged on those Reese’s peanut butter cups that had the cookies in them. I breastfed for about 4 days. I gorged and then couldn’t figure out why he wouldn’t sleep. I didn’t even think of the caffeine. Before I even left the hospital, they had me breastfeed, give him formula, then pump, cause he was losing too much weight. I mean, DUH, he was getting some of my morphine people! I didn’t even think about it at the time. Once I got done feeding him, it was time to do it all over again.
That night at 4 in the morning, I had fed him and I was trying to use the pump, but all he wanted was to be held. I couldn’t hold him, cause I was using this unwieldy pump. I gave him a bottle with some formula, and he went right to sleep. I took that damn breast pump back the next day.
Anyone remember those damn breast pads? I used to leak all over those, and I would just be sitting there. All of the sudden, I would look down and there would be wet spots all over my shirt. Thank god they finally dried up.
That’s is, that’s my story, take it to the streets, biotch!
(Sorry, song reference, not really calling anyone a biotch)
Oh by the way, I’ve been having this weird pain in my stomach every so often. She felt my stomach and it did it again. She was like, yeah, that’s a contraction.
A very minor contraction, which she didn’t tell me, instead, I start thinking…that was a contraction? This should be easy. I know, I shoulda been smacked.
They get me into my room, and put all sorts of shit on me. Antibiotics in the hand, since my water had really tore the night before, monitor on my stomach. I get all excited and start calling people like crazy. First work, not coming in, I’m having a baby! Then friends, guess what, I’m having the baby.
Friends start showing up. Ben, Jesse, Heather, Heather, Heather, and Paul. Jake later, since the evil that is Taco Bell wouldn’t let him leave early. Prolly more, I’m not sure on that. And my mom, of course. I’m still relatively comfortable, until they say…well, your contractions aren’t strong enough.
And they rolled out the pitocin machine. It’s a bad, evil drug. It made everything so much worse. This is when I really start to not remember what the hell went on. I’m sure I cussed, and at one point, they said, well, the contractions are harder, but now they won’t even out, so they had to turn the pitocin up. I begged them not to, they did anyways!
Right about then was when I started asking for some drugs. They said soon.
I even started talking to the contractions…no, no, go away!
They had the drug guy come in and I was talking to the contractions, the nurse was like…I thought you wanted medicine.
I said, I do, I do. I’m not talking to you, I’m talking to the contractions, dammit!
They stuck a huge needle in my back, and I was much happier.
Like oh my god, I love you happy.
Paul felt my toes and I heard jokes for years about how I have no feet, cause I couldn’t feel them.
They all cleared out so I could rest. Pulp Fiction was playing, and I was happy!
At 10, they checked me, and told me I hadn’t progressed. I was still at 5. They were not happy with this, seeing as how my water had been “broke” for almost a day.
They said, ok, we are gonna do a C-section and people FREAKED out. I was like…please, I was this to be over, and I just want to go to sleep and wake up with a baby.
Jake was losing it, people were worried, I felt like telling them, c’mon this is a fairly common procedure and I’m gonna be fine, but I didn’t have the energy.
That was about 10:00 that night. My mother had just left for the only time that day and Jake didn’t want to watch. Jake didn’t think he could deal. I didn’t want to watch either, so it ended up being between That Girl and Heather, you people who know That Girl, know how funny this is. I was like, you decide, I am not about to pick one or the other when I am in labor.
That girl ended up coming in. I was like….You’re not gonna make me watch, right? They were like, not if you don’t want to.
It was strange, I didn’t hurt, but I felt them moving stuff around. I was like….hmm, I really don’t like this. They told me as soon as they had him out they would put me all the way under.
I woke up a half-hour later in a different room, going, where’s my baby? Where is he?
They brought him to me and he looked so dark. He had a little bit of jaundice and he looked native American almost. A bunch of dark hair, right on the top. It was beautiful.
So was the morphine drip, a nurse came into my room and said something like…oh, she’s so cute, and I said, yes, she is. I was so out of it. This was a sign of things to come, that boy was so darling that everyone thought he was a girl.
After three days, I got to go home and walk upstairs to our apartment. THAT was fun. I went straight home and gorged on those Reese’s peanut butter cups that had the cookies in them. I breastfed for about 4 days. I gorged and then couldn’t figure out why he wouldn’t sleep. I didn’t even think of the caffeine. Before I even left the hospital, they had me breastfeed, give him formula, then pump, cause he was losing too much weight. I mean, DUH, he was getting some of my morphine people! I didn’t even think about it at the time. Once I got done feeding him, it was time to do it all over again.
That night at 4 in the morning, I had fed him and I was trying to use the pump, but all he wanted was to be held. I couldn’t hold him, cause I was using this unwieldy pump. I gave him a bottle with some formula, and he went right to sleep. I took that damn breast pump back the next day.
Anyone remember those damn breast pads? I used to leak all over those, and I would just be sitting there. All of the sudden, I would look down and there would be wet spots all over my shirt. Thank god they finally dried up.
That’s is, that’s my story, take it to the streets, biotch!
(Sorry, song reference, not really calling anyone a biotch)
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