Tuesday, May 31, 2011

Fuckin' Strawberry Cake

I made it through (I do know it's not thru and Chad is sitting here shaking hiz head at it so now I am using hiz instead of thru) the entire birth without cussing. For those of you that don't get to speak with me in real life often, I cuss a shit ton. My husband cusses a lot, and to me it's sort of what I am good at. Cussing is my gift. However, I wanted Charlie to come into this world without cussing, and the nurse not to think I was white trash.

I was in labor for about 30 hours. It was not that bad, except I couldn't eat. That was terrible. You deny me food and you pretty much have a problem on your hands. As the hours wore on, my sister was starting to ask me what the first thing was that I wanted to have when I could eat again.

Chad's Mom came to stay with us before Charlie got here. She brought a cake from Food Lion. I am a cake snob, and that cake my friends was glorious. It is a strawberry torte. And to tell you the truth, a few weeks ago I ate slightly over a quarter of a cake in one sitting and spent the next hour in the bathroom because I had effectively made myself sick on it. It was totally worth it. But just talking about it does make me a little sick now.

So, my sister's husband is holding down the house and coming and going from the hospital during all this time. I tell my sister that all I want after I have him, is a piece of strawberry cake. So, he comes back to the hospital with a slice of cake and a couple containers of stew for us. The hours wear on.

After all the waiting you do, when the doctor says you can start pushing, you don't believe them. I was like "NOW!?" I had been doing those squatty things for 3 hours. The nurse was amazed. The epidural doc came in and saw me up and moving and was like "uhhhh what are you doing?" My response, "Being awesome." <- that's not true I told him the other doctor told me to do it. He then says "How are you doing that?" I wasn't sure, but it made me feel awesome to know I am not the run of the mill birth.

They tell me to push in sets of three...It was super hard because it seemed like the one area I really couldn't feel at all was that area. Bearing down just felt like trying to visually pop a zit. What I could feel was myself....pooing. It totally happened my friends. I remember apologizing to the nurse as she wiped it away with a puppy pad. She said I shouldn't be able to feel that, or know it's happening. Nurse Stephanie, I am THAT poo-aphobic.

After what feels like 10 hours, I start getting heated and demand that they pull him out. The male doctor, smiles politely because he hasn't been there for the 30 hours leading up. I am a little exhausted ya jerk. My doctor shows up, and I just start screaming, "SUCK HIM OUT!" "SUCK HIM OUT!"

Did I forget to mention that throughout the entire process I had my eyes closed? Chad had to tell me to open them to see them pulling the rest of Charlie out. The truth is, that when you are about to deliver, the room you are in starts to feel like a phone booth with 12 people in it. I couldn't deal with the 12 people in the room all standing.

Charlie wasn't breathing the way they wanted him to, so he spent some time in the NICU. Before they took him away, they handed him to me. I remember thinking, I have no idea how to hold him. He was so small and fragile.

Then, we were left to recover. My sister came back in the room and very casually mentions, "Mom ate your strawberry cake." At this exact moment my Mom comes into the room as I am in the middle of saying, "THE ONE FUCKING THING I WANTED AFTER THIS WAS ALL OVER?!? SHE ATE MY FUCKING CAKE?!?"

In hindsight I realize that may have been a bit harsh. Hormones after you give birth are Gary Busey to the 10th power. She did however, eat my cake. She was capable of LEAVING the hospital. I was not. Ok, I guess I'm still not over that.

She comes to visit us the next day. One of the first things she says to me while she's sitting there is, "Don't worry, I told everyone you didn't tear."


Who could possibly want to know that?

WHY is that one of the first things you tell said weirdos?

It also wasn't true.

It makes me not have nearly as much guilt over this blog. I love the lady to death, but come on now...WHO DOES THAT?!?

Tomorrow's post...welllll let's just say it involves foreskin and some of our closest friends. AND MY MOM.

From Folley Bulbs to Farts, This Is My Birth Story

Sometimes I think I should bookmark my blog site. It makes way more sense than having to wade thru my facebook page for 20 minutes finding a link to my last post. Sometimes, I'm not so smart. 

Ok. Here it is. The birth story....

I was induced on March 25th at 9 AM. Induction is different for everyone. The doctors felt that for me, it should be more like medieval torture. They used a Foley bulb to induce me. That is where they stick a deflated balloon in there, fill it with saline until it is the size of a orange, and then slowly over the course of 12 hours pull it out. Yea, that sucked...but the worst part was not peeing for 8 hours. Not because I didn't want to, but because there was a tube connected to the balloon and it was located over the apparatus needed to urinate. Thanks doctors. That was the worst part of my labor. That was worse than the 4 hours of squats that come later. Once the doctor was like, "No it's not normal not to be able to pee." They untaped that tube and I went crying into the bathroom to lean on Chad while he turned on the tap water. (The toilets at that hospital are also made for giants.) I had the Austin Powers pee of a lifetime. It was seriously like 2 minutes long. That's where the pain came in...contractions are bad...but with a full bladder I felt like asking for a c-section. 

You know what classy ladies that have babies do? They post pictures of the Foley bulb they made their husband fish out of the trash. In his other hand he is holding a tube of Bonne Bell Chap stick...I think this would make an EXCELLENT ad for their chap stick for girls. "If you wear this chap stick don't be a slut, or you will end up with one of these things in you."

If you were curious, it was the Guava flavored chap stick.

So, the bulb finally comes out around 10 PM. Contractions get more intense as your dilate further. I wasn't about to wait until I couldn't stand the pain, because from the way the nurse acted when she pulled the bulb out I clearly had a high pain tolerance. So, the contractions suck, so I pretty much went from bulb out to epidural in. That's about when awesome happens. What's awesome? Epidurals. They are the unicorns and rainbows of childbirth. What I didn't expect was the speed with which they took care of my request...I said I wanted an epidural and 2 minutes later they where in there with the cart having me sit up and shining scary bright lights all over me. Meanwhile the lady in the room next to me asked for one and crowned in the middle of them giving me mine. Whoops. Sorry about your terrible luck lady next door. Ask sooner next time.

There is so much to tell with this story...I feel like this post could potentially become boring...I feel the need to skip some parts to get to the good parts. I am going to jump around and do "meanwhiles." That's my fancy way of saying all this shit was happening at once.

I had black beans and rice the day before I went in to be induced. Bad choice. So, the unicorn of childbirth kicks in and I am left to numb it out thru the rest of my labor. Contraction after contraction occur and I felt like I was skipping thru a meadow. What you don't think about with an epidural is that it relaxes everything...and I mean everything. About an hour after I got the epidural, I started noticing tooting noises and vibrations coming from my butt. I WAS MORTIFIED! If you have been following along all this time, you know that I DO NOT pass gas. Luckily, we brought a big blanket in case I was cold. I politely asked for my blanket and then proceeded to not so stealthly muffle my toots...This became "the fart blanket."  My Mom came in to visit. The reason I was induced in the first place was because my blood pressure was kinda high. So, every time she would come in the room my sister, Chad and I would have a good laugh. Like clockwork my blood pressure would shoot up. Mostly because the look on her face every time she looked at me was more like I was murdering puppies than in labor. Her face made me freak out. That's why she spent more of my labor in the waiting room, than in with me. She is not equipped to keep me calm. It made me feel bad. She spent most of my labor behind a door peering thru the glass...I picture her with her hand on the glass slowly pawing at it with a big frowny face. I would let her come see me as a kindness, and I guess the waiting room was in the -30 degree area, and when she came in she asked to borrow my blanket. Chad smiled and gladly obliged. After she left, my sister then said, "She covered herself in a blanket of farts." Awesome.

That blanket is totally on my couch right now.

This whole process started at 9 AM on Friday and by saturday at noon, there was talk of a C section. I was starting to freak out. Why? Because I didn't want to be cut open while I was wide awake. The thought of that mixed with having a scar was enough for me to stop at nothing to get this baby out the natural way. I told the doctors I thought he was turned sideways. The Doctors rolled their eyes. What I have left out is that a doctor comes in every hour or so to check your progress and STICKS BOTH HANDS ALL UP IN THERE. While I thought being an OBGYN was bad before, I can assure you that now I think it's the worst job in the world. A couple hours later the doctor is like, yea, the baby is turned. THAT'S WHAT I SAID! grrrr. At that point a c section was looking like the only answer because I had been in labor for ohhhhhh 26 hours. The nurse suggests an alternate method...she suggests that I try rocking a little bit to slide him into a better posistion. EVERYTHING got better at this point. I was up and moving around I was doing these squat thing, and I felt a ton better because I didn't have to stay still. I did squats for 4 hours, and finally he was ready to come out. I could still feel everything.

I did infact poop.

Don't eat beans before a scheduled birth.

More to come.