Tuesday, June 17, 2014

The Adventures of a College Educated Misfit -- Part 36

--On Birthing Babies [1year and 2 months late]

Birth plans are shit.  Trying to predict how this is gonna happen is pointless.  POINTLESS.  I had it all worked out in my head.  I'd be like 41 weeks and some days pregnant, miserable, ready to pop, then...pain.  NOPE.

37 weeks. 0 days.  According to phone app.  One of them.  36 weeks. 4 days to everyone else. But still miserable and ready to pop.

It's shortly after midnight,  I want ice cream.  I have every intention of getting some after I pee and do something else...I forgot what that was.  Shower? So, I'm peeing. [Hold.  A TMI moment is fast approaching.  Actually, this whole post is a TMI moment; so if you ain't ready, close this now...]

So, I'm peeing.  I finish.  Stand up.  Pull up my pants and stuff.  I start peeing again.  My guess, she kicked my bladder.  Cool.  I sit back down.  I pee again.  Involuntarily.  Cool.  I "pee" again.  And again.  And ag--

"MAH!!!!!!!!!!"  My mom's in the laundry room.  She yells back as she walks to the bathroom.  She asks what it is or something.  My water broke.  So I thought.  I was quite sure.  Why else would strange sweet smelling water start leaking out of me? [Said this was gonna be TMI] We look at each other.  Neither of us know what to do; the doctor didn't prepare us for this.  So what do I ask for?  My phone.  First, text boo.  ("either my water broke or I just peed on myself")  Next, google what to do when your water breaks.  Google says do nothing.  Wait for contractions.  Ok, I don't have those.  So when I stop leaking enough, get some new undies (thanks to mommy), get my bed lined so that I can sit on it (also thanks to mommy), the wait for contractions moves to my room.  The googling continues.  Eff it, call the hospital.  They tell me to bring my ass in.  Pack a bag.  Line the car seat.  Change undies at least 3 more times.  Get the exercise ball.  This natural birth, possibly in water, is about to happen.

I roll into the hospital around 3am.  No one answers the L&D door for at least 10 minutes.  Once I get in, they proceed to ask me why I didn't go to the ER for triage.  Because the old man security guard told me to carry my ass up to yall.  So they have to check to see if my water broke, because naturally I would piss my pants like 9 times in a row in a 3 hour span.  Hook me up to a baby monitor and get ready to admit me.  Any contractions?  Nope, just the ones I had this morning.  Can we start an IV?  Nope, I'm going natural.

Fast forward 6 hours.  I've been asked several times to start pitocin, declined.  So my Dr.  rolls thru like.... Fine, you can start it in an hour.  I hate needles, I hate IVs but I have this pitocin drip and antibiotics because my strep test hasn't come back yet.  But my sinuses clear now...

Fast forward 11 hours.  My body has done nothing.  At one point I may have been having contractions every 8 minutes but meh.  Body ain't trying.  They tell me I'm getting off the drugs, to go take a shower, and eat some food.  My mom helped me take a shower, boo went got me some oysters.  Stuffed my face and got some hours.  Middle of the night they come back for round 2, Pitocin and they put some gel on my cervix to help it soften.  The rest my memory gets sketchy for....

So at some point Sunday the contractions start rolling and I do mean rolling.  So they check my cervix.... all 1.5 cm.  Now that check sent me over the edge.  I was riding thru the contractions but now I'm not dilated enough to get in the water, that check hurt so much I started crying, and I've been in labor for approaching, if not already, 36 hours.  GIVE ME THE DRUGS!!! You have to wait an hour.  BITCH.

I rode that hour as best I could til I gots the drugs.  But they did my epidural wrong so I could still feel contractions on half my body.  Mind you while this strange man stuck a needle and a tube up my spine, I could have NO ONE in the room with me.  So it has to be fixed or taken out and there is no way in hell that's happening so I brace myself for the pain.  But it works this time so i sleep.  When I wake up, 2.5 cm.  Doc, cut me.

So at 5:27 pm, after about 40-41 hours of labor, baby girl was finally here.  But let me backtrack.  I go in the operating room first.  MORE DRUGS FOR ME!!! They playing Luther, I'm like "yasssssssss".  So while they're getting me ready, the nurses start talking about this patient coming in 36 weeks pregnant that was in a car accident and crashing and they had to do an emergency c section. [I later found out that everyone outside the OR didn't hear about the car accident part and thought it was me.]

So, they start cutting me and no one has made it to the OR to be with me yet.  I'm angry but also doped up.  So here come my mama with nothing on, meaning no OR gear.  Because nurses too busy running they mouth bout the lady coming it.  They send her out, her and boo come back.  They hang out with me for all of 0.3 second before they pop the baby out then they leave me to  ohhh and awww and ahhhh over her.  I'm like, but my nose itch.  My mama forget to take pictures, I'm getting sewed up, apparently boo done cut the cord and I am told NOTHING.  My nose itch and don't nobody care about me, thanks hormones.

Finally, they lay her on my chest.  I still can't see her.  And she pees on me.  Bye baby.

Idk how long it is before I get to see her again.  I don't remember most of that night because once I got that morphine drip I was gone.

I do remember that I got juice.  2 of my bestest buddies stopped by to see us, didn't even know the baby had made it yet.  Just felt like coming to the hospital.  and baby girl latched on like a pro.

Why didn't I write this last year?

Mama Misfit, out.

The Adventures of a College Educated Misfit -- Part 35

Ages after the fact I decided to edit this so I can write my birthing story 2 months later...

-- On Pregnancy

I'm like several weeks late on this.  I've had an assignment to do this forever.  It's hard to get to.  Hard to write, even thought I want to.  Gonna be even harder for publish.  Hell this may turn into a #Misfit email...

25 weeks down.  15 to go.

Where do I start?  The beginning?  Embarrassing stories of implantation bleeding, exhaustion, morning sickness that lasts all damn day.  And who lied about strange cravings?  I specifically want normal shit and when I couldn't get it....

Do I start about how the first time I felt her move I thought it was gas?  How it use to make my heart pound?  I felt bad for not liking the fact that I could feel her moving.  I should right?  This should be some wonderfully mythical shit I'm experiencing.

26 weeks down. 14 to go.

The first day she decided to move while I was actively moving around was Christmas Eve.  It felt so funny.  Less like gas and more like butterflies but while walking.  It was strange.  I still wasn't completely comfortable with the thought of her moving.

I don't think it was that far after New Years when I begin feeling individual kicks.  They were wonderful and real.  I knew what they were and they would tell me where she was.  She quickly developed a pattern.   She kicks after I eat, when I have to pee and whenever I'm really still.  She loves kicking my bladder.

In the last week, she's started having hiccups which I do not enjoy as much.  They make whichever side she is on just start jumping.  And I can see it.  I guess the next thing is seeing her kick?  Hell, she sure kicks strong enough.

I've known she was a she from the moment I knew she existed.   I doubted my thoughts of course but it wasn't long before I knew who she was.  Long before an ultrasound good.  Her father dreamt of her first.  Then she controlled my dreams for about a week.  The most significant dream came from my aunt.  My mom told her that I'm pregnant and she said she finally understood the dream she had about my grandmother holding a pink blanket.  That was enough to make me cry.  I had to wonder why she let her have that dream and not me but there are some things I cannot control....  Maybe that dream was meant to rebuild damaged bridges.

36 weeks down. 4 to go.

I hate everything.  I can't see my feet but I know they're swollen.  I can't enjoy what few foods I still like because of the demon known as heartburn.  (but thank gawd for almond milk being somewhat soothing...)  Naps were invented for pregnant women.  I'm always tired.  I want to tackle the mountain of shit I need to do before she gets here.  I want to crochet a nest.  Like Big Bird's nest on Sesame Street.

I just want her to get here.  I'm tired of waiting.  I'm tired of being pregnant.  I'm tired of being tired.  I'm tired of being hungry.  I'm tired of being thirsty.  I'm tired of being excited that I can still shit. though many pregnant women can't so haha...

Anyway,  I have my birth plan completed.  I have my bag, it's not packed tho.  I'm working on her coming home outfit.  I'm excited.  I'm nervous.  I'm scared shitless.  I'm in love.  Complete and total unconditional love.

I want her to move her leg out my damn ribs.