If you’ve been following my blog, you know what I’ve been talking about the story of my child’us birth! If you haven’t been following, you can start from the beginning here.
After being rolled into my hospital room, poked with an IV needle twice because the nurse couldn’t get my vain the first time, and having to go to the bathroom with the help of a nurse, I finally got to order some lunch. The nurse had warned me that I was going to need to be on magnesium because of my high blood pressure and I’d have to be on a “water only” diet. This meant that this was going to be my last meal for the time it takes me to give birth + 12 hours. It was like Jesus’ last meal.
I looked through the menu provided by the hospital. It wasn’t bad. There was pasta, sandwiches, soup, and even pie for dessert! I finally chose a grilled cheese sandwich and a chocolate milkshake. I figured if it’s my last meal, I’m gonna want a milkshake. By the time the food came, my parents had gotten there so my room was pretty alive. The four of us were talking about dad’s work, making sure people know I’m in labor (those that needed too), and not telling those that didn’t need to know (I have some nosey family members). I was actually enjoying being in labor. Sure, the bulb I had up me to dilate me wasn’t the most comfortable and the contractions hurt so badly, but it was great to be surrounded by my family at this exciting time in my life.
Around dinner time, my parents left since the doctor said it wasn’t going to happen until the next day, so B and I spent time enjoying our last moments as ourselves. At 3am, I got my epidural. The contractions hadn’t gotten too bad, but the nurses had told me it would take a while to get set up and I would want to do it before the contractions had made it so I couldn’t move any more without screaming or shaking. You definitely don’t want to me moving when they stick a large needle into my back. B was amazing at helping me stand still. He distracted me by talking about our honeymoon and it was over pretty quickly.
I got THREE HOURS of sleep before it seemed like my epidural wasn’t working. I pushed up the amount I could get, but nothing seemed like it was working. I called the nurse in and she said she would ask the anesthesiologist if we could increase my dose. Right as she was leaving the room, I vomited all over the floor. This was the start of the crazy. An hour later, I was pushing and 19 minutes later I had my baby girl. Unfortunately, I couldn’t even hold her for longer than 30 minutes before B had to take her because I was vomiting again. That meant that when my parents finally got there, B was holding her instead of me.
Either way, my baby girl was super healthy and amazing. I had my baby girl. I was a mother.
-Trying not to go crazy,