Mar 24 2008
Birth Story Carnival
“Pop!”
“Um, honey?” (Shaking his shoulder.) “Honey, I think my water just broke.”
“Mmmmmmshhshhsdmmdfskdfajdlfkj”
“No, really, my water broke.”
“It’s 2 a.m. You probably peed.”
“Noooo. I distinctly heard a Pop. I felt it pop. I’m soaking wet.”
“Damn. I really don’t need this right now.”
“Um. Like I do?”
Before y’all go and think too horribly of Mr. Hot’s response - he had to get up at 2:45 every single morning to go deliver papers on a mountainous route. He knew he couldn’t get anyone to sub with this late notice. We had counted on a daytime start to labor and so the timing could not have been worse. This was his third child. I was the newbie here. For all I knew, I could have pissed the bed. I certainly felt absolutely normal (well, as normal as a 39 weeks pregnant woman can feel, anyway).
That was nearly 16 1/2 years ago. I’ve forgiven him.
Oh, and I was 5 days early.
We got out of the very wet bed. I grabbed some blankets and went out to the couch. Mr. Hot got dressed; hoping beyond hope that his bundles of papers were ready and he could finish up early and be back. With a warning to me,
“If I’m not back and you go into hard labor, call an ambulance!”
he was gone.
I flipped on the television and wondered what the day would bring. I was, for all purposes, alone in West-by-gawd-Virginia. My parents were in Michigan. My in-laws refused to acknowledge my existence (another post, another day). My best friend and I had parted ways because of a disagreement over my divorce from Practice Husband. All of my other friends were only friends because of P.H. For some reason, I wasn’t scared. Not at all.
I knew I’d call my parents, but not at 3 a.m. I hadn’t even felt a twinge of a contraction yet, so there was no reason to call and wake them up. They’d have a long drive in front of them when they headed down, they may as well sleep.
After about an hour, I shuffled back into the bedroom. There was no way I could go to sleep on the couch. Piling the blankets onto Mr. Hot’s side of the bed so nothing soaked through, I dozed off.
At six o’clock or so, Mr. Hot tears into the room.
“I thought you’d gone to the hospital when you weren’t on the couch! Are you okay?”
After assuring him I was fine, and that there were still no pains, he grabbed his breakfast and got ready to head over to his ex-wife’s house. (Are you sitting there with your chin on the floor? Ha!) His ex-wife is a teacher. My stepkids, 20 and 24 were only 7 and 3 at the time. The daily routine was to finish the route, come home to eat, and then go to her house to watch the kids until 24 went to school. He’d usually bring 20 home with him to spend the day at our house…but we figured it would probably be a better idea if 20 went to her gramma’s house that day. I was warned to call the ambulance again if I needed to, and again, he was gone.
While he was eating, I called my parents.
“My water broke. I’m fine, and there’s no contractions yet, but I thought I’d give you a call.”
I swear before I got the phone hung up, they were in the truck and headed south.
The next time Mr. Hot came back? I was in the shower. (At least this time he heard the water running and didn’t panic. At least not so loudly.)
There was no way I was going to the grocery store without washed and styled hair and makeup, and we had nothing in the house for my parents to eat. Not a thing. I still had had no contractions. It was about 7 hours after my water broke. I was pre-registered at the hospital. My bag was packed. I didn’t want to go sit in the freakin’ hospital all day. I had to be useful. (The fact that I’d never, ever been in a hospital except to visit someone may have had a bit to do with this attitude.)
And so, grocery shopping we went. While we were walking the aisles getting soup and bread and who knows what else, (my pants getting damp from residual leakage) the contractions started. Very mild. Slightly crampy. Hey, the grocery store shared a parking lot with the hospital. I wasn’t worried because I knew that if it got too bad, we could just head across the lot.
After we paid and loaded the bags into the car, I told Mr. Hot, “Let’s go put this away, and then we can go to the hospital.”
It was 11:30 or so when we pulled into the parking lot for the second time. Nine and a half hours down.
The nurses kindly took me to my room and gave me a gown. They checked to see if my water had indeed broken or if Mr. Hot’s theory that I couldn’t control my bladder was true. I was vindicated. I went into the bathroom as soon as the nurses left to try to pee (since I did understand the difference). Mr. Hot laughed just as I closed the door.
“Hey, Ree, your doctors are here.”
I came out of the bathroom and my parents were in the room. They’d made the drive that usually takes eight hours in just under six hours, 30 minutes. Damn good thing my Dad still carried his “Retired Cop” badge.
And so I wasn’t alone any longer. My darling Mr. Hot, my MomandDad. I knew I could get through the rest of the day. There was no use putting it off any longer. I told the baby to come and get the party started already. He was still undecided apparently on whether or not he really wanted to be born. Amazingly, nothing has really changed. He still can’t make up his mind.
Around 3 o’clock - thirteen hours after my water broke - the real pains started. Really and truly and fucking hell they hurt. And my family? The ones that were going to be my rocks during this ordeal? Were sitting there eating sandwiches. Roast beef and cheese and mustard. And bags of potato chips. And drinking big juicy Cokes. It smelled so good and I was starving.
I, of course, wasn’t allowed to have anything. Except ice chips and Popsicles. Except the hospital had run out of Popsicles.
I don’t really remember much after that except for the blessed relief of the epidural and the oxygen mask they slapped on me because Shortman’s heart decided that it didn’t want to beat all that regularly. So we sat there, watching the monitors and ooohing and aaaahing at the pretty peaks my contractions were making on the screen.
“Did you feel that one?” “Ow, didn’t that hurt?” “No.” “Nope.”
And then, finally, they told me to push. I pushed. Shortman was born at 9 o’clock that night. For those of you keeping score, nineteen hours after my water broke. He gave everyone a scare since he came out, um, purple. Not lightly lilac colored. Not lavenderly. More like grape-freakin’-popsicle colored.
Until he started screaming. Then everything was okay.
Well, except for the fact that he ripped me completely open, and for three solid hours after he was born, they stitched me back together. Without an epidural. Because no one would believe me when I said the needle had come out of my back and the sweet elixir of drugs had dripped down my back.
And that part? I remember completely. It still makes Mr. Hot turn pale whenever we talk about Shortman’s birth. He figured he’d have to raise the boy himself because there was no way anyone could lose that kind of blood.
—- October 16, 1991. 7 lbs, 8 oz, 21 inches long. *** March 24, 2008. 225 lbs, 3 oz. 75 inches long. —-
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Wow! No way I’m telling my birth stories. They involved Demerol is all I’m saying. And forceps.
And the second? An ounce shy of 9 lbs. Did a bit of ripping himself.
I feel ya. Rubber donuts r us.
witchypoo’s last blog post..A Day Late and a Dollar Short
I am suddenly very glad I’m a bloke. That sounds absolutely horrific.
Solomon Broad’s last blog post..The “Things I’m Grateful For” April Contest
OMG… Ree, you are incredible. That’s some stamina, right there.
I loved reading your story - though I’m slightly terrified!
alyndabear’s last blog post..Guest Blog #4: White is the New Black.
Wow! Your story is the second one I’ve read today and wow!
I may have to go and do mine in the next day or so…
RC’s last blog post..Worried about Supercat
Great story.. I love that your family was there eating Roast Beef, Chips and Cokes..
mp’s last blog post..Aruba 2007
There was no one we knew anywhere near us when Max was born either, but I’m the sort that doesn’t want anyone around. I’d rather not even have Brad there. Now my parents live here and I know they’re going to want to be there, and I can’t help but be tempted to accidentally on purpose let my phone battery die or something when the time comes.
Memarie Lane’s last blog post..******C Me N4k3d N0w!******
Uhm, I’ve never had children and I had my legs crossed while reading this post. OUCH. And… of course…..
nicely written.
Jenny’s last blog post..Dogs Do the Darndest Things
Ouch. I swear I could feel the contractions and it brought back my own nightmare. I still don’t know how woman say they don’t remember the labor part. I remember it all.
The doctor enters my wife’s hospital room, does an exam, and tells her that the baby’s not going to come until late that afternoon (it was about 8am).
About 9am I tell my wife I’m going down to the cafeteria to get some breakfast.
I’m in line with my coffee and a banana when my mother-in-law comes running down saying that the baby’s coming right then.
And brilliant person that I am, and realizing in my addled brain that I have to get out of there right away, do I put the coffee and banana down and run out? Nooooooooooo.
I ask every single person in line ahead of me (about 14 people), “my wife is in labor, can I cut ahead of you?” Fourteen times I ask that question.
I pay for my coffee and a banana and run up to the room.
For all I know, the coffee and banana are still sitting untouched on the windowsill where I left them 7 years ago.
Hank’s last blog post..Really, Really the Last Meme
Mine, in order, were 8.5lbs 9lbs even and 9lbs 10 oz. Not one epidural or shot of demerol or anything else. I am woman. Hear me roar.
flutterby’s last blog post..Pass Around Some Random Blog Love Today
Wow! that was pretty exciting! So glad it ended happily, even with all the blinkin’ stitches. Ouch!
Kristen’s last blog post..Birth Story # 1
The Dude was blue as well. Very scary, especially when you’re 18 and alone.
Shania’s last blog post..Welcome Home: an Update
LOL, glad you gave Mr Hot the thumbs up in the beginning … I would have got a ‘tude about that dude!
Nancy’s last blog post..Who pee’d in the gene pool?
I remember hearing the sewing up part, and it still makes me cross my legs. Ouch.
Sandwiches? Chips? I would have banished them all from the room, and ordered someone to find some damn popsicles for me.
You tell a great story.
Jennifer H’s last blog post..How Babies Are Made
like you, my water broke before I felt any contractions. I was 37w and it was 5 am.
like you, I didn’t want to spend all day in the hospital. But I was getting a little dizzy, so we went around 12:30(noon).
I never had any contractions on my own. My midwife, cruel bitch she was, pushed pictocin on me. Grayson was born 26 hours after my water broke.
I had THREE stitches.
moo’s last blog post..oh, this is rich
Feeling green, seems everything everywhere is either making me cry or making me tighten my girl parts thinking about the, oh, how did you say it…fucking ripping!
My last one was 9lbs 8oz…pray for me.
amanda’s last blog post..Cabin Fever Update
Awesome.
marlee’s last blog post..Play Date From Hell and My Continuously Expanding Waistline
I take it back. NOW, I have never been more attracted to you in my whole life. That. Was. Awesome.
Mr Lady’s last blog post..Making? Babies
Shortman’s grown a bit, eh?
What a well written story!
SarahO’s last blog post..AND THEY’RE NOT EVEN PAYING ME! YET.
Ah I didn’t rip, they cut me from one end to the other. And she did a terrible job sewing me back together (so much so that she took out the stitches 2 times before finally deciding that she was sick of stitching. Third time lucky? Oy)
Veronica’s last blog post..How To…
Also, what is with ice chips? Don’t they let you eat? I was offered sandwiches and orange juice during labour.
Veronica’s last blog post..How To…
Reading stories like these makes me scared to ever have kids. I think it’s the whole ‘ripping’ thing.
Great post!!
Jennifer @ The Cubicle’s Backporch’s last blog post..Friends in low places
I am staying on birth control forever!
Laurel’s last blog post..Fifteen Movies That I Love
Veronica they usually don’t let you eat because in the event of an emergency if they have to put you out for surgery, they don’t want the risk of you vomiting while unconscious.
flutterby’s last blog post..Birth Story Carnival
Huh, Shortman’s Bday is the day before mine. That’s kinda nifty.
I, too, have a horrific birth story with my first child. I refuse to tell it, however, as future mothers might just refuse to have children should they stumble upon it. LOL
I remember the starving; we’d packed a lunch and I wasn’t allowed to eat it, I was so pissed off about that. I also had the episiotomy stitched up with no painkillers twice! Novocaine doesn’t work on me. I also birthed two purple children. I only wished I’d bumbled about and shopped instead of going straight to the hospital when my waters broke because damn it was boring in that place!
Lyvvie’s last blog post..You must be having a laugh…
Starving, shivering, puking, tearing, swearing…ahhh the memories.
Fannie’s last blog post..Home Again
I think I just wrote a post about wanting to be preggers.
Thank you for clearing that insane thought from my head!
And isn’t there risk of infection after the water breaks? Or do I just watch too many hospital drams on TV?
Kristabella’s last blog post..I Have Things to Say
Seriously. Remind me never to eat when I’m reading your blog. Because? I choked on my pretzels like 10 times from laughing.
imhelendt’s last blog post..Words of Wisdom from my uncle?
and exactly 10 days later his future wife was born….
LMAO
Kelley’s last blog post..Movie Night!
You have a HUGE 17 year old. Good thing they aren’t born that big.
Kat’s last blog post..Generation Y
Oh dear lord! That’s just crazy. Now I’m gonna have to put together my birth stories. A little late… but that’s nothing new.
Hyphen Mama’s last blog post..How to Lose 2 Pounds in 12 Hours
UM YES.
NEVER HAVING KIDS.
This post was the first time I came to your blog. I saw the link somewhere..I think Sarcastic Mom..
mp’s last blog post..Memorial Day Group Photo - St Louis Zoo