Its official...my baby is here...a day early at that.. .born on Friday the 13th. No big surprise. The real surprise is that she...was born a he. Yes thats right. I had a boy, after going thru this whole pregnancy thinking I was having a girl. Someone needs to beat the shit out of the ultrasound tech...or at least make him reimburse me for all the girl clothes I bought and can't return. I had three ultrasounds this whole pregnancy and the guy was 100% sure it was a girl. Either way, he's perfect, he's mine and when he shot out of me, he lunged at the doctor and bit him in the neck.
So the details of my big day are this...
Thursday had the contractions all day long, Thursday nite around 11pm or 12 they started getting closer and closer...by 2am, they hurt bad. They were 5 mins apart lasting 1-2 mins each. Basically felt like the worst cramps I could ever have...they sucked. John called the doc and they tell us to get to the hospital. Get there and by 3am I'm in triage and they tell me I'm 5cm's dilated. I hurt real bad. They take lots of blood and ask lots of questions.... Then move me to my room. Nice big labor/delivery room. By 4am the contractions are so close they are killing me and I'm hugging the arm of the bed dying, burying my face in between the bed and the railing. Everyone is telling me to breath and all that huff puff stuff.
I'm now 7cms' dilated. They say you lose all sense of modesty when you go thru this...its true. People were constantly up in me, poking, pulling, shoving... I'm lying there with my business all out in the open and it didn't even matter anymore. We call my mom at this point because the nurse says I'm gonna be going into the final stages of labor like now. Now its 5am or so and mom shows up and I'm pushing and screaming so the nurse checks me out and I'm at 8cms..and it sucks because everytime they have to check me, mind you its all internal stuff and I'm painfully contracting too...no fun. She tells me the only thing is my water hasn't broken and she legally can't break it ... the doc has to, but if it breaks I'll be progressing much quicker from there...but hush hush..maybe..just maybe it'll "happen to break" while she is examining me...
So she goes at it again and pop, it breaks...but that brings me back from 8cms to 7cms..but its ok cause now she'll call the doctor.. .Doctor..this guy with ZERO bedside manners comes and he's so blasé and says sooo, are you going to get the epidural? I say no....and he gives me this look like I'm crazy. Like he's looking down on me. So then he checks me out and says I still have time and the babys face is the wrong way and hopefully he'll flip over but not to push just now and then he strolls out like nothing. Comes back later and baby is still looking the wrong way so he goes in and tries to flip him and gets him turned but now he's facing sideways which makes it hurt bad. Still not allowed to push, but the urge is unbearable...they say its like needing to take a crap and not being able to...no...its not like that...its worse. Its like a horse pushing itself out from within and you are not allowing it to, but can't. Resisting the urge is one of the hardest things ever. Finally at 5:30am or so I'm allowed to start pushing and do so at each contraction. Push 3 times for a count of 10 each time. Push...1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8-9-10...take a quick breath then push again... by push 3, I barely make it to the count of 6 each time but do my best to get to 10 cause if I don't, it'll take longer to get this kid out.
They have you cock your legs back and make you pull on them yourself, towards you. No stirrups. John has one leg, nurse has another, my mom has one hand that I'm sure I'm breaking, John has the other. Doctor eventually shows up again...still casually strolling in...takes his time, pulls up a seat, puts on his mask and headpiece whatever..and just lets everyone else do their thing while he sits there... They see the head....he's got lots of dark hair..push push push....they tell me not to arch my back which is so hard to do, and to not push down on my legs but to pull up which again is hard to do.... 6:57am....my girl with a penis is born. I rock. I ROCK. I hurt like hell and have 3 degree tears from one hole to the next and now the doctor is jabbing me with some pain killer so he can sew me up. The needles hurt more than the delivery. Three mega stitches and that's that. So my baby cries, then stops which is nice cause he's a good calm baby. He's really a good boy! For now. I'm pleased but think WHAT the hell am I going to do with all the girl stuff?
Baby is healthy, all parts are there, including the additional unexpected part and that's that. Now the hard part is the name because we had no clue and had to come up with something in 24 hours. We ended up going with Khai Dinh Moseley. Khai Dinh is one of the last Vietnamese Emperors. He had many concubines.
Later in the day I'm eating lunch and suddenly I hurt..my ass on the right side and all up the right side of me is in so much pain. The level went from 0-10 in a split second and I started shaking uncontrollably from the pain. My friend Kara is there and runs to get the nurse who comes in and checks me and tells me I've got a big bruise up in me and that I have a golf ball sized hematoma. So she calls the next doctor who is on call now and she is on her way in and in the meantime they give me a shot of morphine. Morphine barely touches the pain...lessens it for about 5 mins and then it returns in full force and then some. By now the doctor is here and I'm screaming. I think it hurts as bad if not worse than the delivery. No lie. I'm actually crying at this point because I hurt so much and she has to do an internal exam to see what its all about....I swear...the pain. She gives me 2 more shots of morphine and a percocet and still I hurt. It still didn't touch the pain.
She tells me she doesn't see a hematoma and I'm just prolly really in pain because the numbness from some shot the delivery doctor gave me to help numb things when I pushed the baby out, was wearing off. I never asked for the shot. The shot didn't numb shit. The two huge needles he used to stick me way up in my crotch were as long as a pen. So half an hour later, the delivery doctor shows up says he heard about my pain and wants to check me out. The nurses are rolling their eyes because they think its so unnecessary for more people to be up in me like that. Doc looks, says there IS a hematoma and it's the size of a plum and I'll have to go into surgery right away to get it drained. Says I will have to get a spinal block. I tell him I don't want one and can't he just put me under? Nope...cause I had eaten within the past 8 hours and if that's what I want, then I'll have to wait another 8 hours with no food and no drink. I'm sooo dehydrated from the delivery though but say eff it...I'll wait 8 hours. I don't want the spinal. He looks at me crazy like before. Next John hears the two doctors in the hallway arguing about the hematoma...is it there, is it not, is it necessary for me to have surgery...bla bla bla.... Doc who says I don't have one, comes back again and checks me out again and says Oh yes...you do..but I don't think you need surgery. In fact, I'll do blood work every half hour and see if it remains stable. If it does..no surgery. If it doesn't..surgery. So hours later...I'm told to go ahead and order dinner cause my blood levels are stable and just come for a checkup in 5 weeks...and if then the hematoma has gotten larger, then surgery is needed, otherwise it'll dissolve itself into my body. Wee.
Eventually I move to my recovery room and stay there for until Sunday afternoon and go home. Everyone is doing fine. Baby was born 8 pounds 3 oz. I barely sleep, barely eat, my life is now poopy diapers, feeding him, and rocking him to sleep... I've been up since 4am today and have seen every infommercial there is. Blah.
The End.
Thursday had the contractions all day long, Thursday nite around 11pm or 12 they started getting closer and closer...by 2am, they hurt bad. They were 5 mins apart lasting 1-2 mins each. Basically felt like the worst cramps I could ever have...they sucked. John called the doc and they tell us to get to the hospital. Get there and by 3am I'm in triage and they tell me I'm 5cm's dilated. I hurt real bad. They take lots of blood and ask lots of questions.... Then move me to my room. Nice big labor/delivery room. By 4am the contractions are so close they are killing me and I'm hugging the arm of the bed dying, burying my face in between the bed and the railing. Everyone is telling me to breath and all that huff puff stuff.
I'm now 7cms' dilated. They say you lose all sense of modesty when you go thru this...its true. People were constantly up in me, poking, pulling, shoving... I'm lying there with my business all out in the open and it didn't even matter anymore. We call my mom at this point because the nurse says I'm gonna be going into the final stages of labor like now. Now its 5am or so and mom shows up and I'm pushing and screaming so the nurse checks me out and I'm at 8cms..and it sucks because everytime they have to check me, mind you its all internal stuff and I'm painfully contracting too...no fun. She tells me the only thing is my water hasn't broken and she legally can't break it ... the doc has to, but if it breaks I'll be progressing much quicker from there...but hush hush..maybe..just maybe it'll "happen to break" while she is examining me...
So she goes at it again and pop, it breaks...but that brings me back from 8cms to 7cms..but its ok cause now she'll call the doctor.. .Doctor..this guy with ZERO bedside manners comes and he's so blasé and says sooo, are you going to get the epidural? I say no....and he gives me this look like I'm crazy. Like he's looking down on me. So then he checks me out and says I still have time and the babys face is the wrong way and hopefully he'll flip over but not to push just now and then he strolls out like nothing. Comes back later and baby is still looking the wrong way so he goes in and tries to flip him and gets him turned but now he's facing sideways which makes it hurt bad. Still not allowed to push, but the urge is unbearable...they say its like needing to take a crap and not being able to...no...its not like that...its worse. Its like a horse pushing itself out from within and you are not allowing it to, but can't. Resisting the urge is one of the hardest things ever. Finally at 5:30am or so I'm allowed to start pushing and do so at each contraction. Push 3 times for a count of 10 each time. Push...1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8-9-10...take a quick breath then push again... by push 3, I barely make it to the count of 6 each time but do my best to get to 10 cause if I don't, it'll take longer to get this kid out.
They have you cock your legs back and make you pull on them yourself, towards you. No stirrups. John has one leg, nurse has another, my mom has one hand that I'm sure I'm breaking, John has the other. Doctor eventually shows up again...still casually strolling in...takes his time, pulls up a seat, puts on his mask and headpiece whatever..and just lets everyone else do their thing while he sits there... They see the head....he's got lots of dark hair..push push push....they tell me not to arch my back which is so hard to do, and to not push down on my legs but to pull up which again is hard to do.... 6:57am....my girl with a penis is born. I rock. I ROCK. I hurt like hell and have 3 degree tears from one hole to the next and now the doctor is jabbing me with some pain killer so he can sew me up. The needles hurt more than the delivery. Three mega stitches and that's that. So my baby cries, then stops which is nice cause he's a good calm baby. He's really a good boy! For now. I'm pleased but think WHAT the hell am I going to do with all the girl stuff?
Baby is healthy, all parts are there, including the additional unexpected part and that's that. Now the hard part is the name because we had no clue and had to come up with something in 24 hours. We ended up going with Khai Dinh Moseley. Khai Dinh is one of the last Vietnamese Emperors. He had many concubines.
Later in the day I'm eating lunch and suddenly I hurt..my ass on the right side and all up the right side of me is in so much pain. The level went from 0-10 in a split second and I started shaking uncontrollably from the pain. My friend Kara is there and runs to get the nurse who comes in and checks me and tells me I've got a big bruise up in me and that I have a golf ball sized hematoma. So she calls the next doctor who is on call now and she is on her way in and in the meantime they give me a shot of morphine. Morphine barely touches the pain...lessens it for about 5 mins and then it returns in full force and then some. By now the doctor is here and I'm screaming. I think it hurts as bad if not worse than the delivery. No lie. I'm actually crying at this point because I hurt so much and she has to do an internal exam to see what its all about....I swear...the pain. She gives me 2 more shots of morphine and a percocet and still I hurt. It still didn't touch the pain.
She tells me she doesn't see a hematoma and I'm just prolly really in pain because the numbness from some shot the delivery doctor gave me to help numb things when I pushed the baby out, was wearing off. I never asked for the shot. The shot didn't numb shit. The two huge needles he used to stick me way up in my crotch were as long as a pen. So half an hour later, the delivery doctor shows up says he heard about my pain and wants to check me out. The nurses are rolling their eyes because they think its so unnecessary for more people to be up in me like that. Doc looks, says there IS a hematoma and it's the size of a plum and I'll have to go into surgery right away to get it drained. Says I will have to get a spinal block. I tell him I don't want one and can't he just put me under? Nope...cause I had eaten within the past 8 hours and if that's what I want, then I'll have to wait another 8 hours with no food and no drink. I'm sooo dehydrated from the delivery though but say eff it...I'll wait 8 hours. I don't want the spinal. He looks at me crazy like before. Next John hears the two doctors in the hallway arguing about the hematoma...is it there, is it not, is it necessary for me to have surgery...bla bla bla.... Doc who says I don't have one, comes back again and checks me out again and says Oh yes...you do..but I don't think you need surgery. In fact, I'll do blood work every half hour and see if it remains stable. If it does..no surgery. If it doesn't..surgery. So hours later...I'm told to go ahead and order dinner cause my blood levels are stable and just come for a checkup in 5 weeks...and if then the hematoma has gotten larger, then surgery is needed, otherwise it'll dissolve itself into my body. Wee.
Eventually I move to my recovery room and stay there for until Sunday afternoon and go home. Everyone is doing fine. Baby was born 8 pounds 3 oz. I barely sleep, barely eat, my life is now poopy diapers, feeding him, and rocking him to sleep... I've been up since 4am today and have seen every infommercial there is. Blah.
The End.
