it happened like this

When I sit down to write about how son #2 came out of my body and into this world I'm not quite sure how to go about it.  To lay out the basics would be easy, so here let me do that.   

I showed up at the hospital early Thursday morning on September 9th, the doctor broke my water at 8:45 am, and three hours later at precisely 11:54,  I had a baby.  

See?  Simple enough.  

Except the experience was so much more than that.  I made sure to write down exactly how it all went the next day in my journal so that I would remember.  Because it's true, you glaze over the hardest parts as soon as a few hours later.  A week later and it's already getting a bit rosy around the edges I suppose.  

But I remember the big stuff.  

I remember walking into the room to be greeted with writing on the whiteboard that said "welcome Kalli and Paul!  Goal: healthy baby boy!".   I remember how spacious the room was and how surreal it felt to get changed into my gown and to be doing this all over again.  We met our nurse, Kim, and I instantly knew we'd be in good hands.  We chatted for a while and she asked if I had considered having this baby naturally, sort of a weird question coming from a labor and delivery nurse.  We talked about it some more and I said I had, in fact, earlier in the pregnancy I'd attempted some hypnobabies training but hadn't found it to be particularly useful in my case.  I guess I don't have an easily suggestible mind, is what I'd said.  Kim said that if anyone was a good candidate for it, I was, seeing as how I'd been walking around for a week dilated to a 5 and 85% effaced.  Likely this was going to go quick.  "I bet you'll have a baby before noon", she said reassuringly.  

I don't exactly know what came over me, but just like that I was on board.  Alright, well if you say so then let's do this thing.  Seriously, don't ask me what happened because I have no idea.  Paul had left to go get some breakfast and I was signing consent forms for the epidural, and by the time he got back 30 minutes later my Dr. had already been there, my water was broken, and I was getting a good taste of what contractions had to offer me.  The look on his face when Kim explained the new plan was a good mix between what the crap, and you're insane, but he didn't say a word other then, "alright, I know you can do it".  So full steam ahead matey, we were off.

An hour in the shower later, I was having some serious second thoughts about this decision.  I got out to get checked because Kim was worried things were moving a bit fast, but no, only dilated to a 6 and a half.  At this news I wanted to run out and hang myself from the nearest doorway.  Instead I sat on a birthing ball and tried to redirect my energies at opening or whatever it is you do when you feel like your insides are being swirled and stabbed like spaghetti on a fork.  My pillow was soaked with sweat and Kim and Paul were rubbing my back in between contractions, making sure to leave me alone in the middle of them after I barked "don't touch me!" when one would start.  Mixed in there were some bouts of crying and saying "I can't do this, I can't make it" until Kim decided to check me again to get a gauge on where I was at.  Personally, she could have just asked and I would have said closer to the verge of death more than anything, but no, apparently I was quite alive and didn't know what pain was until she put her hands where they were not welcome.  That act alone about sent me through the roof and I started sobbing and begging for my mom.  Paul snorted at one point, I thought he was laughing at me and I begged him to stop, but he wasn't laughing he was crying too.  I'm sure we cut a pretty pathetic picture, both of us sobbing and praying for the sweet release of death.  Okay maybe that was just me but still, yikes.  That check yielded me at an 8, transition.  I feel like I need to insert a disclaimer here.  I was actually remarkably calm for the majority of this affair.  I just had my moments you know, moments where I was not so much in control.    

My doctor came in and checked me again 20 minutes later, again, that's just not something I really enjoyed.  Still an 8.  He said he'd stick close around in case things picked up but I still had a bit to go.  Awesome, exactly what I wanted to hear.  Kim suggested I flip around on my knees because sometimes that really helped and felt better.  So I managed to heave myself down and as soon as my knees hit the pad I knew that was a terrible mistake.  I suddenly found my body pushing and straining and who knows what was going on down there.  The worst sensations were ripping through me and Kim calmly got on her walkie-talkie thingy and called for Dr. Watts to turn around and come right back.  Somehow she and Paul got me situated and Dr. Watts came running in and was gowning up all at the same time.  Pretty sure my eyes were rolling back in my head and I yelped out and could not stop pushing.  There was a giant mirror above my bed so I watched as my skin yielded way and out came this head full of hair, then somehow a pair of broad shoulders, and then this body, and then it was over and he was here, 6 minutes before noon.    

Big and beautiful, and what in the world just happened? 

I will tell you how ridiculous and out of body the entire thing felt to me, and how you won't find me acting as an advocate for natural childbirth any time soon.  Those of you who are, go you.  Having done it both ways I'm pretty sure I'll exercise my right to an epidural for any future babies riding this train into the earth station.  For me the recovery was comparable to that of the Nub's birth, in fact it was probably rougher.  Things like my placenta not wanting to detach and a full day of hemorrhaging every time I moved certainly contributed to the experience.  Even though I didn't have an IV for the birth I had to be hooked up to one for over 24 hours after to help my uterus clamp back down, on top of medication they'd given me orally in 5 separate doses, as well as a shot in the thigh and another medication given in a place I don't feel so comfortable discussing.  It was unpleasant to say the least.    

I'm glad I did it, that I experienced such a thing, and I don't regret it one bit.  How could I? 

 Look at my boy, he's perfect.

I can't say enough about how great my nurse was, or how Paul was so incredible, or how my doctor was calm and collected, and no one blinked twice when I was writhing around like an electrocuted eel which in hindsight, was completely embarrassing.  I'm so thankful for modern medicine, good caregivers and good hospitals because they are not all created equal. 

Mostly, I'm just glad that it's over and that I came away from the whole experience for the better, with a brand new healthy son to mother, a family to go home to, a new appreciation for my body, and gratitude that I don't ever willingly have to give birth that way again if I don't want to.    

That's my kind of happy ending.