"I am a
goddess!"
I know you've heard lots of terror stories about labor. Mine wasn't anything like that. It wasn't like anything I expected, either.
At 3:00 in the morning, I felt some cramping. It was very regular -- about every 8 minutes. I went to the bathroom to find water slowly leaking out of me. I nudged my husband awake to tell him, "I think I'm in labor ... but I want to take a shower first, so go back to sleep if you want to." To my amazement, he took the offer, rolled over, and promptly resumed his slumber. (Much later, after the baby was born, he admitted that he had a horrible cold -- poor guy!)
I took my shower, smiled a lot, got dressed, finished packing my bag, and got all of our stuff together ... overnight bag, pillows, camera, boom box, specially put-together tapes, snacks ...
The contractions -- still just mild cramps -- were about 5 minutes apart now. I paged my doctor who called me back within a few minutes.
"It's a full moon -- I told you to expect me," I told her. After I told her that my water had broke, she scolded me lightly for not calling sooner and then told me to get to the hospital. I woke up hubby, he packed the car, and after a last smiling look at the nursery we had prepared, we set forth.
My parents were ensconced in their r.v. at a park a few minutes away. They were equipped with a pager just for this event, but since it was on the way, I wanted to give them a personal announcement. We slowly drove through the sleeping campground to their trailer. I got out and rapped on their bedroom window.
My father peered sleepily out through the drapes.
"We're going to go have a baby," I told him giddily. My mother's face joined his at the window. I repeated my news. "Wait just a minute," my father said.
He stepped out the door and gave me a gentle hug. He pulled away and looked in my eyes. "This is the happiest I've ever seen you," he said. "This is what you've always wanted."
My parents promised that they would be along shortly ... after they had some coffee. Retirees -- they're not used to be woken at 5:00 in the morning!
At the hospital, they checked me out, determined I was in labor, and set me up in a room. I quickly changed to a cotton shift, robe and slippers and began walking the halls, which they say is so good for your labor.
Let me digress a second. I was completely dedicated to having a drug-free pregnancy. I mean, dedicated. I had my cd of Pachebel's Canon, I was prepared for warm showers, lots of breathing. The problem with an epidural, I believed, is that is causes such a domino effect. You have to get pitocin, you can't walk around, they have to put wires up into you. That, for some reason, really bothered me. Putting wires up inside of me.
After three hours of very painful labor, at which point they examined me and said, "Nope, you're only 1 centimeter dilated," I realized that I would not care if they put a transistor radio up inside of me.
Now, dear friend, because you have already told me that you have no interest in a drug-free labor, I can tell you the truth. Epidurals are a gift from the goddess.
Yep, once I got that epidural, life was a party. Literally. We had our specially made tapes playing, my entire family (parents, sister, brother, sister-in-law, mother-in-law) could visit with me ... it was great!
After a few hours, my doctor announced that it would soon be time to push. The anesthesiologist (wonderful man!) turned my drip up a bit. Now I am normally a fairly private person, but being in labor gave me such an incredible feeling of kinship with all the mothers in the world. I am also extremely lucky to have two wonderful mothers -- my own mother, and my mother-in-law. And I was in no pain, sooo...
Tom went out into the hall where our two mothers were waiting for the birth of their first grandchild. "She's not in any pain, and if you want to, she would love for the two of your to see your grandson be born."
They thought about it ... for about 3 seconds.
It really was a party ... we had Louis Armstrong singing "What a Wonderful World," on the boom box, my mothers in a corner cheering me on, my husband giving me ice chips and counting ...
Oh, no mistake, it was hard work ... but so empowering! I felt like a goddess, giving birth to our own little miracle.
And then he was born ... I had already prepared myself for a red, pointy, wrinkled little creature. But he wasn't. Right away, he looked like a little doll. "He's beautiful, isn't he???" I demanded of everyone. They all agreed.
I can't wait to do it again.
Sister-Friend is always interested in your comments and ideas -- in general or about her web page. Send her a message at CalypsoZ@swbell.net. She thanks you very much.
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neighborhood.