The Birth of… (Part Two)

30 Aug

When we left Part One of Bug’s Birth Saga, the nurse was just heading out to fill an order for Pitocin to get things a-moving. The peanut gallery (aka: my mom, dad, sister and best friend) had all arrived at that point and we all waited impatiently to get transferred in to a birthing suite.

I was just chilling out, dealing with mild contractions, and trying not to punch Mr. Bee in his face while he sarcastically encouraged and supported me.

See, when Bee was born, I think Mr. Bee was in a little bit of shock. And I say this with the utmost respect and admiration for my husband, but you seriously could have replaced him with a cardboard cut-out of himself. In fact, I’m pretty sure he hardly uttered two words during the whole experience.

So this time around, I encouraged him to be a little more vocal, with the caveat (of course) that I could tell him to shut the fuck up whenever I choose to. I just didn’t think that time would come before we had even moved in to a birthing suite!

Before we could even get to our suite (or even get hooked up to that lovely Pitocin), my body decided to kick things in to high gear. Suddenly the question of whether or not these were “real” contractions went out the window. Mostly because they fucking huuuuuuuuurt.

Once we got to our birthing suite, contractions had really ramped up and thank God for Sissy, my gold medal birthing coach! It wasn’t too long before the contractions got too painful for me – I ain’t no hero, people – and I asked politely for an epidural (read: I’m pretty sure I screamed at the nurse for drugs of any kind. I mean, come on. I was in Renton, for Christ’s sake. Crack or Meth should have been readily available…).

Now, when I imagine asking for an epidural while in labor, this is what I think the response should be: “Of course, ma lady. Regular or super-sized? We will get you a fuck-ton of pain meds post haste.”

What did I get instead?

“Oh, so the anesthesiologist is in a procedure right now and then he has a C-section and then we’re up. So we’re third on the list.”

What. The. Fuck.

This is where I cried for the second time during my labor (the first was when the contractions started getting really bad and we were still in a tiny triage room). The only way to describe how I felt was if you can imagine the nurse reaching in to my body, grabbing hold of my soul, wrenching it out through my eye sockets and smashing it to smithereens while simultaneously peeing on it.

Needless to say, I was crushed. Also, I thought I was going to die. So that was really fun.

Luckily for me and my sanity, the drug doctor was able to sneak me in between procedures and I soon had a very mild epidural, which really? When I ask for an epidural, I want to be able to shove a fork in to my leg and not even blink an eye. This epidural? Barely took the edge off of the contractions. Grrr.

I probably could have asked for more drugs, but immediately after giving me the epidural, the nurse checked my cervix and guess who was totally dilated and effaced?

Are you fucking shitting me? I just went through that whole painful labor without an epidural but now I can’t tell people proudly that I did it au natural? Jesus Christ.

Even though the doctor, upon checking me, said I was a “sloppy eight”, she let me start pushing anyway because, well, I wanted to. So for the next two hours, I pushed my heart out.

Well, not literally my heart. My pee, poo and god knows what else? Yes.

Did you know that you can pee all over your doctor while in labor? Well, I can apparently. Jealous?

I even asked Sissy at one point if I had pooped (not that I really cared. I poo’d all over the place with Bee; for some reason I just wanted to know if all my bodily fluids were shooting across the room at that point!). Her response was “No, I don’t think so…” Later I found out that Arla-Shay approached Sissy and was all, “Uh, why did you lie about the pooping? She poo’d EVERYWHERE!” Sissy assures me that she hadn’t witnessed said poop at that point but Arla-Shay guarantees that the room looked like a poo-throwing monkey had a fiesta in it. Nice.

So, approximately two hours later, Bug was finally within an inch or two of the world when the doctor noticed that he was sideways.

That’s right, folks.

Not face down. Not sunny-side up.


Oh, and guess what else? Every contraction was also paired with Bug kicking the shit out of me. My family could actually see him kicking against my stomach from the outside.

Most painful thing I’ve ever felt.

And I don’t think it will come to a surprise you, but for some reason the doctor was surprised at the nicknames I had for Bug during labor. I think her favorites were “Jerk” and “Asshole”.

So after two hours of literally gut-wrenching pushing and the only thing born was Bug’s hair, the doctor tried reaching in and turning the baby the right way.

Um, ouch.

THEN, she tried the suction cup with a handle method to see if the kid would budge.

Double ouch.

When turning and pulling didn’t work, the doctor educated me on irony. That is, I had been going around for ages telling people that the only way that Bug’s labor and delivery could be worse than Bee’s was if I was forced to have an emergency C-section.

Well, guess what?

Stay tuned for Part Three of the Bug Birth Saga which includes freezing to death, being cut open while making porno jokes, and my weird palsy hand.

Song title: The Birth of… by Imperia

5 Responses to “The Birth of… (Part Two)”

  1. Midori August 30, 2010 at 7:50 am #

    You are truly gifted…that was HYSTERICAL. I can’t wait for Part Three!

  2. Betts September 1, 2010 at 12:21 pm #

    What?! There are more than two parts?! Okay, I’ll give you 24 hours, and then the emails will start flying!!

  3. Midori September 2, 2010 at 10:37 am #

    I share your frustration with the medical staff. I was pushing so hard with my second son that I broke the stirrup off the table. I had a loose chain around my neck, and I was pushing so hard my neck took on Hulk-like proportions and I had a bruise around my neck from the chain for a week after. The nurse kept telling me to PUSH HARDER. After he was born, at 11 pounds, 2 ounces, she said, “oh, no wonder you were having such a hard time”. She’s a bad smell in my attic now. KIDDING. Haha. I would never…

Trackbacks and Pingbacks

  1. The Birth of… (Part One) | Mom to Bee - August 30, 2010

    [...] Little did they know, I wouldn’t need any Pitocin… [...]

  2. The Birth of… (Part Three) | Mom to Bee - September 1, 2010

    [...] So after pushing for two ungodly hours… [...]

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