Baby number One
The day after our big raccoon hunt last fall… it would have been October 2nd… we got up early and drove into the city for our 7am induction. On the way there I was in panic mode (silent panic mode) because I didn’t want Paul to know I was secretly a wuss… he fell in love with me thinking I was this big, tough, strong hearted and souled farm girl and I was too scared (see… wuss) to let him know that wasn’t exactly true. And come on.. you would have been scared too… in a matter of hours I was going to be given something that would encourage the process of labour (aka perceived WORST thing in the ENTIRE world) to begin happening to me. I was terrified… absolutely terrified… in fact… i am nauseous just remembering the feelings I was having towards what was about to happen to me.
We got to the hospital… checked in.. and were left in this GIANT room with a recliner and big screen tv and huge bathtub (oh and a hospital bed, and all that stuff you need to have a baby).. to wait for the doctor or nurse or whoever to come in and give me the shit to get things rolling. In walks my nurse… ( I won’t say ours… because really… she wasn’t there to do a damn thing to Paul… she was MY nurse…)… and immediately I wanted to go home. I am pretty sure she was younger than me… (don’t know for sure but I am willing to bet)… but she was DEFINITELY prettier… and skinnier… chippier (is that even a word… spell check says no… but I say yes)… than me… and I HATED her! Seriously! Her name was Tiffany… or Brittany.. or something else very perky and blonde… and she looked like Barbie… except not so plastic and ugly… okay, scratch that… she looked like Katherine Heigel… And she was planning on checking out my who-ha… the one that I hadn’t even seen in person (other than the odd glance in the mirror) in months… OH NO SHE WASN’T. “I’ll be right back” she smiled… and then BOUNCED out of the room… okay, maybe she didn’t bounce… but her god damn ponytail did… seriously??? “Ummmmmmm pretty sure I need a new nurse” I told Paul. He looked at me like I had left my marbles at home… “Yup… so can you go tell the front desk that I don’t like this one and I want a new one? ” “what’s wrong with her?” “WEll…. did you see her ponytail??? it bounced when she walked out of the room”… okay, okay… I understand I deserved the ‘you are fucking crazy’ look that I was getting at that moment. “AND… she is WAY prettier and skinnier than me… I want a new one. I don’t want that teenage girl looking at my who-ha and sticking things up it and then going out to some party later tonight and telling all her friends about it over a mike’s hard lemonade (because in my mind.. this is what blondie would drink). I want a new one” “Well, I am not going to tell them that.” WHAT?!?!?!?!!? I carried a child in my uterus for 41.5weeks and got all fat and bloated.. and stretch-marky… and had legs that if you pushed your finger into my skin an indentation would remain once you moved your finger….. and he wouldn’t even ask for a new nurse for me when I had perfectly good reasons…. selfish asshole.
Lucky for Paul’s lifespan… my doctor arrived at that moment and gave us the 411 on what was going to happen to me. They would give me some cream? (see I was so traumatized that I don’t even remember for sure…. post traumatic stress disorder…)… and then I would wait in the hospital all day (until 5pm) and then if no contractions had occurred… they would give me some more. Wait a second…. they were expecting me to sit in the hospital for 10hours and do NOTHING>.. (and eat nothing might I add)… and WAIT for a contraction to happen….. Now I know I was not the only one crazy there that morning… because that was NOT going to happen. I spent the next ten minutes convincing Dr.McSurfer to let me leave the hospital after the cream, promising to return THE MOMENT anything happened… and if nothing had happened by 5pm I would return for my subsequent treatment. For some reason this took ALOT of convincing… but trust me…. in the end I am sure my doctor thanked the lord that he let me go… he didn’t want me cooped up in the hospital all day with Nurse Barbie because by the time my labour began… I would have been looking for someone to kill.
So Paul and I left the hospital with four rules to follow.. 1) don’t eat anything! 2) come back AS SOON as I feel ANYTHING! 3) Come back at 5pm even if nothing has happened and 4) DONT EAT ANYTHING! The nurse gave me a look after that last remark that sent shivers down my spine… I knew immediately that’s why they wanted to keep me in the hospital all day… so they could monitor my starvation… I smiled ” don’t worry, i won’t” I told her… “because we’ll know.. and if we have to do a c-section it will be VERY dangerous if you have food in your stomach”. ALRIGHTY THEN…. We walked out the doors of the hospital that morning for the last time as a couple, a single being, a family of two…. got in our car… and drove straight to Smittys. What? It was 10am,… I was ZERO centimeters dialated and STARVING… I figured I could have one last meal before I went back to the hospital.
After eating our breakfast we embarked on our day of dillydallying… we went to all the farmer stores that we could possibly think there might be something Paul needed at home that he hadn’t thought of yet. You haven’t really “browsed” or “shopped” until you have wandered every single aisle in Canadian Tire and Peavy Mart seriously checking out their merchandise. We went furniture shopping… for what? I will never remember… since we didn’t really need any furniture. We went to my place of previous employment and had a good b.s. session. Paul ate lunch in front of me while I drank some ice water… Oooohhh yummy! (I am only being slightly sarcastic… ice water is my number one most favourite drink in the entire world… DRINK being the key word… it wasn’t yummy as a meal…). We spent the entire day walking around, talking to one another… and NOTHING happened. Nothing… literally… not one cramp.. not one anything…
When five o’clock rolled around we drove back to the hospital for the second dose. “How are you feeling?” a new red-headed nurse asked me. (Thank god barbie was gone… I couldn’t have handled her). “Relieved” I told this girl.. “Nothing has happened”. She made me gown up in that horrible stupid hospital gown (which by the way… nobody ever tells you which way to put it on… they just hand it to you… sometimes they want the slit to the front… sometimes to the back… MAYBE YOU SHOULD LET US KNOW!!) and climb up on the bed where she proceeded to examine my who-ha.. much to my displeasure… I already told her nothing had happened. She finished, pulled off her gloves and looked at me… “you are zero centimeters dialated..” REALLY? I could have told you that without going up my ying-yang… Now I had to wait for McSurfer to come in and check me out… AGAIN… and give me some more cream. After confirming that Carrot Top was correct.. nothing had changed, he gave me my second batch. “Can I go home?” I asked him. (hey it was worth a shot). “ummm… no” “Why not? I promise I will come back AS SOON as something happens… if I have ONE contraction I will come back.. I promise.” “You live an hour away… it might happen too fast” “I will just go to my grandma’s then… she lives in town”… “No” “Well that is ridiculous” McSurfer just smiled and laughed “you have your hands full already” he told Paul… whatever the hell that was suppose to mean… it was rude. “well then… can I eat something?” “Sorry, no can do.. you have to keep your stomach empty just in case we have to do an emergency c-section.” UGH…this was the worst day EVER!! Surely labour wasn’t as awful as starvation… maybe I shouldn’t have been so glad that I wasn’t progressing at all. “See you in the morning” my cheerful doctor said as he left the room… probably on his way to catch a wave of awesome somewhere… or on his way home for supper… either way… I was as green with envy as the ugly gown I had on.
After a long night of NOTHING except carrot top waking me up every few hours to “check me” I was exhausted. During one of the checks around midnight I smiled at her. “Don’t you think if I was progressing and having contractions of any sort you wouldn’t have to wake me up to see how strong they were… I think I would be the one waking people up with my screams of agony. How about I’ll call you if I feel anything and then you can check me out then?” Apparently that was not procedure… so I was continuously woken up every few hours for the remainder of my wonderful stay. All the while Paul slept in the chair beside me… bastard. When the nurse (another new one) came in that morning to tell me that McSurfer would be there to see me momentarily and check me one last time I had had enough. “How about we just wait for the doc to stick his fingers up my who-ha?” I suggested. “No offense but he’s going to do it anyway… and I have had ZERO contractions (okay maybe five) throughout the WHOLE night… I know I am still less than 2cms dialated… and if I am going to be having a child slide through this thing I would rather we have one last hand up there… the less stretching the better… right?” Okay… okay… those of you who know me know I didn’t actually say all that out loud… but I was thinking it… and I did tell her to leave my who-ha alone and that I would wait for the doc because nothing had changed…
McSurfer came in, checked me out and told me I was 1cm dialated… so basically… no baby any time soon. He told me I had options. 1) they could give me some more induction medication and hopefully encourage labour to begin soon. BUt with this dose came a high risk of having to have an emergency c-section as it often brings labour on too quickly and terrible things can happen when you do that. 2) Or… I could wait it out a couple of days.. but since I was already 1.5 weeks overdue that wasn’t what he recommended as my child was already likely a mammoth. Oh and he forget to mention… there was a SLIGHT problem… Since they had given me these drugs.. I could still go into labour… and failed inductions have a 1 in 3 percent chance of needing a c-section…. (fine and dandy… I could give it a whirl and see what happens right? WRONG!).. apparently the back-up power was scheduled to go out that day and so if something were to happen and I needed an emergency c-section I would have to be shipped off mid labour to the closest big hospital to have a c-section (which might I add is 3 hours away)…. Sooooooooooooooo he was suggesting I have a c-section. I was going to have to have a c-section because there wasn’t going to be any power?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!??!?!?!?!?!?!?!? Good healthcare!! My mind was spinning one hundred miles an hour… it was 8am… I hadn’t eaten in close to 24hrs.. I was starving and lacking any sort of thought capability. “I’ll give you two a moment to discuss this alone” he said and left Paul and I to make our decision. “I think we should have a c-section” Paul decided for us. Thank god for that… I was in no condition.
A few minutes later I was being wheeled away to a cold, operating room where they gave me a spinal (epidural) to numb the lower half of my body for the surgery… I was going to be awake!! And let me tell you.. I learned at that moment that childbirth really must be the awful, horrible, painful experience that I think it is… because women get epidurals to help control the pain they are in… and the numbing needle they gave me in the spine prior to the epidural was THE most painful thing I have ever had done to me in my entire life!! Seriously… women undergo this to cause LESS pain??? Well I can tell you right now that I was glad I hadn’t had a contraction because it surely would have killed me dead… the needle in my spine was torture.. and the worst part was… Paul wasn’t even allowed in there to hold my hand until AFTER that part!! He got to come in once I was sprawled out on the table and they had begun to slice through my stomach and entire abdomen muscles. I swear to you it wasn’t even fifteen minutes after they began that they pulled our baby out (which I could feel… not painfully… but pressure wise… WEIRD)… and announced we had a little girl!! Levynn Bernard Graesyn… 9lbs 15.5oz….. and a WHOLE lot of hair….