Birth Story

The basement trolls are officially teenagers.

Lot’s of mom’s blog their ‘birth stories’. Truly lovely stories, that make me close my eyes and imagine balloons falling from the sky as harp playing angels sing Happy Birthday.

Mine…not so much.

Bear with me as I reminisce. Grab a coffee. Or wine.

I assure you there were no balloons. 

I was 36 weeks and 5 days pregnant (read about how much my pregnancy rocked here). At my last OB appointment I was covered with a rash; something called PUPP.  It was awesome. NOT. The doctor looked at me and said he could induce right away, but told me to be prepared they may need some medical attention. Bring it on bitch. Get them OUT!!

First mother fail duly noted.

January 23^rd, 2000

6:30pm: At hospital for pre-induction. I hope my last attempt at landscaping was ok. I’m not sure if it looks like a drunk with scissors attacked me or if I resemble a 70’s porn star.

7:00pm: Doctor arrives to ‘rim’ me. This sounds dirty. Should we ask Dylan to leave? Holy shit! Dude, what are you doing?? I have never been so aware of my cervix in my entire life.

7:15pm: Doctor inserts some sort of gel. I never want to hear the words ‘froggy legs’ or ‘scootch down’ ever again. They tell me I can go home and wait.  Good, I’m hungry.

7:30pm: Let’s get Taco Bell!! Yummy.

8:30pm: Wow, I really need to go to the bathroom.

8:32pm: Hmm, I guess I didn’t need to go. But man, I feel like I could shit my pants. I would definitely not trust a fart right now.

8:39pm: Yup, I really need to use the bathroom.

8:41pm: Weird, I guess not. Oh, well. Weeee, look a left-over burrito…I love me some cold Taco Bell.

8:48pm: Holy shit, I really need to use the washroom. These cramps are hardcore.

9:50pm: Another false alarm. How frustrating. I wonder why Dylan is on the phone to the hospital? Why are you getting my bag in the car? I am NOT in labor. I just need to poop. Every 7 minutes.

10:30pm:  Arrive at hospital and ask for an epidural in the waiting room. The nurse laughs at me. Bitch. If I had my way I would have had that needle in my back when I peed on the stick 7 months ago.

10:50pm: Waiting in assessment room for a real room. I hope the nurse will blame the hovering sour gas and rotten egg smell on Dylan.

Note to self: Do not eat Taco Bell before giving birth. Bad choosing.

11:00pm: Dylan asks me to look at a zit on his forehead. He thinks it’s a tumor and keeps complaining how much it hurts. He tells me he is going to ask the doctor to look at it when he comes back.

I hate him.

11:30pm: Umm, ouch. These contraction things hurt. Perhaps in hindsight I should have attended one of those useless birthing classes. Is there a book I can have a quick skim through? I ask if I can I have an epidural now. They say I have to be more than my current two centimeters dilated. Assholes.

Now I hate my cervix.

12:00am: Dylan is playing with the doctor’s chair, he bends over and turns a dial and the damn thing pops up and hit his head…right on his zit. Great, now he is crying like a baby. Umm, hello?  I have two humans trying to go all Shawshank Redemption from my uterus through my VAGINA!!!!

I question what I ever saw in him. How drunk was I?

12:10am: While bending over to try and fix aforementioned chair, Dylan rips his pants right down the backside. Fatty. He has to call my sister to bring him a new pair of pants. 

I ask the nurse if there is a divorce lawyer on call.

12:30am: Dylan is asleep on the floor. Snoring. Poor muffin must be ever so tired. 

I bet there is something sharp in one of these drawers I could stab him in the eye with.

1:00am: A lovely nurse guides me to a hot shower. In all my naked glory, I sit on a giant exercise ball under the hot water as she rubs my lower back. I ask her to marry me. I assure her it’s legal here. Or it will be soon; we’re a progressive country.

1:30am: I fall off the ball after the nurse leaves and have to press the call button for help. I am now laying on the shower floor begging for the epidural, promising the nurse one of my first-born.

I guarantee her first pick of the litter.  I think she has gone to call child welfare.

1:45am: Back in the room. Dylan is now asleep on my bed. I punch him in the balls and ask him if he is ever panning on having sex with me again. He gets out and apologizes, telling me how much better he feels after a rest.

Jokes on him…I already know the answer to the sex question.

6:00am: Finally admitted to a real room. The doctor arrives to break my water and insert an internal monitor on Baby A’s head. I question how he will get this device on baby’s head as said baby is still inside of me. Did this guy even finish school? And why does he have a knitting needle in his hands? I really don’t think now is the time to finish off your homemade sweater for grandma.

6:10am: Oh I see, so you don’t knit after all and you don’t give a rat’s ass you have to reach through my Fort Knox cervix. With your hand. Monster.

Now I hate him too.

Dylan makes a smart-ass comment about how he hopes the doctor is gentler with his own wife. Oh, he is so funny. I am such a lucky girl. I love him so much.

No, I don’t. I am going to kill him. I’m sure they have epidurals in prison.

8:00am: Here comes the Angel of God, A.K.A: Dr. Epidural. He is so beautiful. I love him and his needle full of gold. Oh sweet relief. I think I peed my pants.

I ask him to marry me.

8:15am: Nurse hooks up some drippy thing to my arm. She tells me it will increase contractions. Meh…whatever. Do what ya gotta do. I can’t feel my ribs. Sleep.

12:00pm: Student doctors come in and ask if they can watch the birth. I wasn’t aware I should be selling circus tickets. I tell them to run as fast as they can and I will even give them a head start. They saunter out the door. Appears I’m not as fast as I used to be.

6:00pm: Doctor tells me I am not dilating and explains sometimes a twin uterus is like overstretched elastic band and just can’t contract properly.

Great, my doctor just called me fat.

Jackass.

7:30pm: I am in line for a C-section. Having then come out of the sunroof does not upset me. I never really thought the words ‘stitches’ and ‘perineum’ should be used in the same sentence anyway. My lady bits get to stay the way they are. Woot! Woot!

Just get them out.

After all, I have cute jeans to put on ASAP.

11:45pm: Wheeled into OR room. The room is so full it appears they have been selling these so-called circus tickets without my consent. I better get some of the profit.

We have wait until after midnight as the doctor wants them born on the same day. Don’t mind me spread out like Christmas dinner on the ice-cold stainless steel table with 500 people staring at my nakedness. These florescent lights are always so flattering.  I’m good. I lost my dignity at 'froggy legs'.

Am I peeing again?

January 25^th, 2000

12:09am: Welcome to the world Olivia Rose.

12:10am: Welcome to the world Peyton Isabelle.

I have never been so in love. There are no words. My heart is bursting.

Happy Birthday Olivia and Peyton.

To be continued….

Xo J