On Birth, Part 2

Now where was I? Oh yes.

... Ben had actually been looking forward to breaking the land speed record on the way to the hospital, but since it was around 1 o'clock and we weren't on the interstate there was zero traffic. And since Mom was riding with us in the car so she could man the contraction timer I doubt he wanted to push his luck. He did run a red light at the hospital though... just because he could. When we arrived at the hospital, I was sat down in a wheelchair and carted up to Labor & Delivery. The nurses wheeled me into a room, hooked me up to the monitor and asked me about 5,000 questions. Was I doing drugs? Was Ben abusing me? Was that really amniotic fluid or had I just peed? (Just kidding on that last one, but at first I think they thought I was bluffing.)

After they decided that I wasn't faking and that I was truly in the throes of labor, I was already 2cm dilated and having contractions that were about 3 minutes apart and getting stronger. I had decided (and talked to Ben about) my hesitation to have an epidural right away, but as far as pain medication goes I wasn't really strongly leaning one way or another. I know some women are very anti-drug during labor and some women want it as soon as they feel their first contraction. I was somewhere in between. So they hooked me up to an IV and gave me so much fluid that my wrists and ankles started to resemble flesh-like balloons. I got to the point where laying down wasn't comfortable, so Mom and Jessica and I started walking the halls. I had to stop every once and a while for a strong contraction or to have a nurse check my progress, but I walked the halls of L&D about every hour from 2 o'clock in the morning until about 9.

And that's when the pains really started to get bad. I thought I had prepared myself for it, but I don't think it's something you can really prepare yourself for. It was an onslaught. I broke my resolve and got some morphine through my IV and Gone with the Wind was on the television and Mom was sitting down beside me and I would watch the monitor religiously because it made me feel better to know when a contraction peaked, because once it peaked it usually went down... Usually. That's what I remember. Glimpses of memories through a wilderness of pain. I lost all charm, all wit, most of my intelligible motor functions. I tried to pray and lost my place. I kept thinking two words and repeated them over and over again in my head like a broken record: Ben, baby, Ben, baby, Ben, baby. Over and over again. I wondered how much longer it would be. The nurse came in and checked me around 11 and I thought that surely with all this pain I must be almost done and ready to push, right? Right?

Nope. Only 6cm. I still had 4 to go. The nurse asked me if I wanted an epidural and after talking to Mom and Ben, weighing the options of taking the medicine and worrying about the complications of the drugs (a possible C-section... which I definitely didn't want to happen) or keeping on with this excruciating pain. I had a tough decision to make. But with every contraction I knew it was bringing me closer to seeing my son. It was pain with a purpose, but pain nonetheless. He was barreling down, excavating my flesh and bone, whether I was ready or not.

I decided on the epidural.

To be continued...