The Childbirth (What To Expect When Expecting, Part 2/3)
It feels like a kitchen knife stabbing my lower back again and again and cramping everything under the waist. DON'T TOUCH ME!
Are these contractions?
When do I have to leave to the hospital?
How embarrassing would it be to be there too early. So I wait, and pant, and wait, and pant, and wait, until finally I call the hospital and they tell me to come over.
First, they hook me up to some machines. Then the nurse wants me to walk to the delivery room.
Walk? The child is coming any minute now! I can hardly stand upright!
I waddle, feet apart like an overfed duck, stopping every 5 steps to pant and overcome contractions and then in the middle of the corridor, the water brakes. I'm so fed up, I don't even care who cleans it up. It sure as hell won't be me.
Aah, the bed. Finally, I'm able to lay down. The pain is almost consistent now. I want all the pain medication, all of it! DON'T TOUCH ME!
There's a moment of rush, as the doctor and the nurses come in and inject the epidural into my spine, and then heavenly peace. We are left alone.
Alone? What if the baby decides to come now? How will I know when and if it comes, I've never done this before. Where is everyone? Fine, I'll have this baby alone then. Well, with the husband staring in horror. Then you'll all see what you've done.
The pain is gone.
Heaven.
What now? Do I just wait? Why is there not a directive booklet I could study and just follow the procedure?
The pain is back. I want more medication! DON'T TOUCH ME!
And now the nurses are finally here again. What? I'm supposed to go into labour without further pain medication? Why were you gone so long? Was the coffee fresh and were the buns delicious?
The nurses force me to the toilet. I'm supposed to poop. How am I going to do that when there's a melon stuck between my legs and I can't feel anything but the pain? I imagine trying to push out the poo but accidentally delivering the baby into the toilet instead. Wouldn't they be sorry then, ha?
I have no idea if I've pooped or not when they finally let me go back to the bed. I don't give a rat's ass if I poop when the baby comes out (which is why they want it done beforehand). It's their job. Deal with it.
At least I haven't vomited yet.
Thank heavens for small wonders.
The pain is overwhelming and just when I think I can't handle it anymore it laughs in my face and puts on the final gear. There's no option but to see this through. I'm never doing this again. NEVER!
And then the baby is out. Everyone says the pains stop there right? RIGHT?
You still have to push out the placenta and if it doesn't want to come out, it will be forced out by pushing your already sore womb from the outside. With. Force.
And I'm not talking about the kind of force that is with you always.
And then there's this minor detail of stitching up the torn remains of your lady garden. They say they have sprayed on some kind of numbing painkiller but I feel EVERY. SINGLE. NEEDLE. PUSH. THROUGH. THE. RIPPED. REMAINS. OF. MY. MOST. SENSITIVE. FLESH.
It takes everything I have not to kick the nurse in the face, away from my groin.
The size of the champagne glass I got (along with coffee and a sandwich) afterward was in no relation to the labour I had just put myself through. Never again. (See Never again part 2 and Never again part 3 for further details.)
