The Third Trimester

Finally, getting closer to the end of my pregnancy and finally starting to feel somewhat better. Or so I thought anyway. At the start of my third trimester I actually felt pretty good. My color came back to my cheeks, I was sleeping better at night and no longer nauseous. I was capable of eating whole meals and I wasn't falling asleep every time I sat still for more than two minutes.

I was lulled into a false sense of comfort because by the time I hit the second month of my third trimester that all changed. I was running to the bathroom every thirty minutes but only at night when I desperately needed to sleep. Everything I tried to eat kept me up at night so meals became totally unappealing. I found myself up all night with heartburn. I couldn't buy the Mylanta fast enough! I was finding that I had headaches and was getting tired again.

By my last month of pregnancy because of the position of the baby I had constant back pain and found it more and more difficult just walking. My daily commute became impossible and in the end I was only able to make it into the office three times per week. Most nights by the time I got on the train home I was in tears. I didn't want to give in to it but between the hormones, the added weight, the discomfort of how low I carried, it was all just too much.

I became disinterested in life. I only wanted to lie in bed and wait for the big event. As much as I knew there would be terrible pain involved which I dreaded with every fiber of my being (hey, I never said I was going to face this with any shred of dignity!) I began to look forward to it and actually wish for it.

The last three visits to the doctor all confirmed that I was on the verge of giving birth and yet day after day I insisted on continuing to return to the office. I had wanted so much to work until the last moment to give me as much time at home with Max as possible.

My last day in the office I was making preparations to continue working from home. I still had left a few things to tend to for that Friday only I had no idea I would not be returning. True to my word I did manage to work until the last minute. I was sitting at my home computer when my water broke.

I dropped something on the floor and when I bent over in my chair that was all it took. At first I didn't even know that was my water breaking. It was a strange feeling. I didn't think much of it, I went and changed into fresh clothing and within minutes I was saturated all over again. Finally I called my sister and asked her what its like when your water breaks. She confirmed the obvious for me and suggested I call the doctor.

I phoned the doctor's office and explained that my water broke and they told me to go straight to the hospital to be checked out. I told them that I wasn't having any contractions so shouldn't I wait but they insisted I go immediately.

Now, if you know me on a personal level at all, you know I didn't go running out the door. I calmly picked up the phone to tell Vic to come home from work. Calling Vic is always an experience. The switchboard put me on perpetual hold eventually returning to tell me all the service lines were bush and could I possibly call back later. Before I go on, I would like you to share my mental image of this situation. I see an extremely lazy female who is badly in need of the exercise it would take to walk across the lobby and into the service department to tell Vic I'm on the phone. Only, she won't get off her generously sized butt because her donut may get stolen by the over-weight lazy woman sitting next to her while she's gone!

When she asks me if I can call back I tell her "no!". I actually laughed and told her that I was his wife and in labor so could she please get up off her butt and go find him just this once! Because I was laughing they didn't believe me! Everyone at his job thought he would be back that afternoon because I couldn't possibly be in labor. I finally got to speak with Vic and told him not to rush that I still had lots to do before I left the house.

I started cleaning up and making phone calls. I called my sister and told her I was going to the hospital. I called my mom and let her know that my water broke so she could book her plane tickets. I called the office and spoke to my boss as well as a few coworkers. I even phoned my best friend Jason in England to make sure he knew what was going on. I knew everyone here would be well informed but I wanted to be sure he was contacted especially with the time difference and all.

When Vic got home I was still sitting on my computer answering my email. He yelled at me to get in the shower which I finally did. I then began to pack a bag and requested that Vic scramble an egg for me. I suppose because I knew I was not allowed to eat I became even hungrier than I would have been. All I kept thinking was that it might be a full day before I could eat again!

Vic was starting to get a bit tense which I was not up to dealing with while I finished packing so I sent him out to get cat food. He protested since it would probably take at least thirty minutes to get all the way to the vet and back again especially in the pouring rain but I became agitated and told him the last thing I needed to worry about over the next few days was if the cats were eating!

Against his better judgement he finally gave in and went out for cat food. "Ahhhh, finally alone" I sighed to myself. I calmly finished packing and dressing and just as I was ready to go the contractions began. Just as Vic returned for me my sister called and wanted to know what I was still doing home.

My contractions began at about 8 minutes apart and quickly shifted to six minutes apart by the time I reached the hospital. The doctor's office had told us to park in the emergency room parking lot. When we arrived we told the security guard that I was in labor and he informed us that there was no space for our car at the moment. He actually suggested with a straight face that we return later!!!

I told him I was having this baby now whether he a parking spot for our car or not! Vic threw the keys at him and told him he didn't care what he did with the car because we were leaving it and going in! In the end he accepted the car and gave Vic a parking ticket for it.

We make our way through the hospital to the delivery ward which they intentional placed as far away from parking as they could and are greeted by the most ignorant nurses you could imagine. She sees me standing there holding my belly, at the delivery desk (maternity) and asks what's wrong with me! I told her I was in labor and she had the audacity to ask me how I could tell!! Hmmm, let me think for a moment - my water broke, I'm getting to floor all wet as we speak, I'm doubled over in pain, perhaps it's just gas! Stupid woman!

It seemed that they were over flowing with moms in labor and I was just one more than they wanted to deal with. That ninny actually tried to send me away. Even though I was told I would be placed into a birthing room by my doctor I was placed in a pre-exam room first. It wasn't even a bed but a stiff narrow counter they had me lay on! I was in there in hard labor for three hours! Morons! The lot of them!

Some resident came in and examined me (and left me wishing a REAL doctor would show up soon) and told me I wasn't dilating. She kept asking me what made me so sure I was having contractions - well, they're kind of hard to miss! You'd have to be dead to not know what one feels like once they start. For some reason the monitor wasn't picking them up - could it be the incompetent boobs just couldn't figure out how to use a fetal monitor? You tell me. All I know is that the pains had started coming two minutes apart.

Here I stayed from about 3:00 until 5:00. Eventually the dim witted resident came back in and asked if I would like her to phone the doctor to find out if I were allowed to have something for the pain. Gee, let me think about it! I sighed with relief and thanked her for her kindness and waited. And waited. And waited. After about 45 minutes a different resident came in and to my horror there had been a shift change and no one had even phoned my doctor yet! The second resident asked if I would like her to phone my doctor and I said "YES! But what happened to the last resident who told me they would do that? I've been lying here for 45 minutes!" She assured me she would in fact return but she had just gotten paged and I would now have to wait.

About 20 minutes later a nurse came in and asked if I had taken Lamaze. Why wasn't I doing my breathing? Between the contractions I told her the breathing wasn't helping me anymore. She asked me if anyone had come in and offered to give me something for the pain and at that point I lost it. I reached up and grabbed her by the throat and screamed "Where's the God damn Demerol!" I then threatened to take out my cell phone and call the doctor myself. She scurried from the room and within minutes I was being moved to a treoge room and was given Demerol.

The Demerol didn't alleviate the pain but did knock me unconscious. For the next hour or so in my sleep I would pull myself up, clutching the bed rails and scream my way through the contractions every two minutes. My husband couldn't take anymore of watching me suffer and went in search of help. He found all the staff hanging around the admitting desk eating donuts. He argued with the resident about my condition and she had the nerve to ask him if I just had an unusually low tolerance to pain. At that point he had lost his patience and dragged her back to my room by the arm and insisted she examine me.

She was insisting that further internal exams would result in infection and were unadvisable. He argued that if she didn't examine me how would she know if I dilated. Finally she came in and woke me up. Again she tried to talk me out of being examined for fear of infection. I wondered about that statement even in my drug induced state; doesn't she wash her hands and wear gloves? I know that's not what they mean by risk of infection but at the time I thought her moronic. After a heated debate she finally examined me and SURPRISE I was 5 centimeters dilated. Thank the good Lord because now I would be moved to a birthing room and be allowed an epidural.

Until that moment I had been miserable. My labor experience felt like a never ending bad dream but all that was about to change. My birthing room was lovely and comfortable. It was quiet and peaceful and I felt instantly relaxed. The nurse assigned to me was wonderful. At the time she seemed like an angel sent from heaven. She stayed with me nearly every moment. She held me as the anesthesiologist administered the epidural. She calmed my fears. We watched Friends on the television in my room. We joked, we laughed. She was completely supportive and sympathetic. She was born to be a nurse! My birthing nurse practically delivered my son. It's true that you really don't see the doctor until the very end of it all but because Kerry was such a pleasure to have there I didn't even miss him.

Once the epidural was in place I felt instant relief. I would say within two or three minutes the pain had disappeared. In my opinion anesthesiologists should be given gold medals! What a difference it made for me. It turned my most frightening experience into one of joy. I was now able to focus on something besides the pain, my son. I even napped for a while until I reached 10 centimeters.

The actual delivery was a snap! I was now calm and excited and happy. I pushed and pushed until I brought Max into the world. The doctor kept asking me if I needed to rest but I joked about wanting a toasted beagle so badly that we had to get the job done! When it came time for the actual delivery they put my legs into the stirrups but one of the bolts had loosened. It was good for laugh and as it turned out my husband had to stand shoulder to shoulder with the doctor holding my leg in place. He got to watch all of it and it was something he'll always remember.

In the end my perfectly little boy was laid upon my chest for the first time. I did ask that they wipe him off a bit first. I admit, I don't have much of a stomach for that kind of stuff. I had no interest in seeing the placenta either. I didn't care about any of it, just my baby.

When I held him that first time he was still all full of amniotic fluids and had yellowish ointment oozing from his eyes. And, he was beautiful. He had my hands. There was no mistaking it. I expected him to look all misshapen and bruised but he wasn't. He looked perfect. Even his head had a nice round shape. What can I say, all babies are perfect and beautiful.

So much of my life has changed since the birth of my child. My husband and I have a renewed closeness. Probably for the first time in our 12 year marriage we work together as a team. My perspective has completely changed. The things that bothered me before have become completely unimportant. I have also developed the deepest sense of empathy imaginable for other mothers.

It's true that until you experience it first hand you can't understand it. I don't think I can really explain how it changes you. The entire experience, being pregnant, giving birth, becoming a mother, you have to live it to know what I mean. Even after I complained and after I felt lousy and hated every minute of it, I'd do it all over again.

There is nothing in the world that can match the way you feel the first time you hold your baby or the first time he smiles at you. I look forward to the first time he looks up at me with those big trusting eyes and says "mama". It's my favorite fantasy right now.

I read every parenting magazine I can get my hands on in a vain attempt to learn what's best for my baby but with each passing day I am learning that it comes from within. God gave all of us a natural ability to be the best mothers we can be all by ourselves. Advice is great but in the end I listen to my instincts, my heart and my baby.

For the first time my house feels like a home and we really are a family in every sense of the word. Miracles to happen to regular people and they come in the form of little bundles of joy.

It's not always easy, there's so much to do. There never seems to be any time left for me. The sleepless nights, the constant need for attention, quality time with my husband, a full time job that has me away from home 12 hours per day, etc. But, somehow, none of that matters. You get back so much more than you give in the form of unconditional love.

In closing, I have to highly recommend the experience!