5 years {and 5 days} ago... (the saga continues)

"Can't you drive any faster!" all fears of child birth had left my mind and were quickly replaced with trying to control the intense amount of pain my body was experiencing. "Heee, heee, whooo...heee, heee, whooo!" or maybe it was, "heee, heee haaaa....heee, heee, haaaa!" Darnit, why didn't I pay more attention to how they do it in the movies or better yet, take a lamaze class. But in my mind, how in the heck could breathing help the process of child birth be better? There were only two options....breath or not breath. Although option #2 was looking quite tempting, I decided that it would not be the best choice, as I would not be of much help delivering the baby passed out on the floor. So breathing it is, "heee, heee, whooo.." still not helping. Perhaps a combination of both would be better, "heee, heee, whooo, haaaa, haaa..." nope, still nothin'. While all "breathing" attempts to find some relief had failed there was still a glimmer of hope. Off in the not too far distance, shining like a beacon, was the hospital. It was almost as if I heard a choir of angels singing, "hallelujah, hallelujah...hallelujah, hallelujah, haaalleeeeeluugahhhhh!".

We arrived at the hospital a little after 7:30. The lady at the front desk asked, as I'm wincing in pain, "Are you here to have a baby?" nope, I hear you have great hospital food. Just came to check it out with my husband, my camera, and my bag of extra clothes....seriously lady.

By 8:30 I was all hooked up and ready to go (minus the epidural). Modesty had become a thing of the past as nurses were coming in and out checking me to see if my "womanly parts" were progressing. I was only dilated to a 4 and with it being my first time the nurses were taking their sweet time with me not in too much of a hurry, after all it's my first baby, how fast could I go? Well, faster then they were expecting. By 9:30 my whole body was shaking from pain. My life was passing before my eyes, I was a goner for sure. "Nate, tell my Mom and Dad I love them and I'm sorry about the time I held a knife to are maid when I was 4, and I'm sorry for the time they made me sit at the dinner table until I ate my mashed carrots and when they left the room I scraped the plate clean behind the china cabinet to get rid of any evidence of the uneaten food, oh, and I'm also sorry for the time that I wanted to stay home from school, so I played sick and got some eggs and bread, old food from the fridge, mixed it all up and poured it on the floor to pretend like I threw up. Tell them I'm sorry for all of that........."

Where the heck was my epidural? Nate tried helplessly to comfort me, but his attempts were met with, "honey, I love you...but could you just NOT touch me right now!". Finally by 10:30 the anaesthesiologist walks in, "how you doing sweetie?", no reply..."Are you ready for this?" no reply..."Now, I just need you to curl up in a little ball and hold very still. Any sudden movement might make me slip and paralyze you for life and we don't want that to happen now do we...so remember again, hold very still" OK he didn't say the last part but we all know that's what he was probably thinking. After holding still for what seemed like an eternity (and a loud popping sensation) my epidural was complete. I never thought I would be so happy a nearly 4 inch needle placed in my back.

Shortly after receiving my epidural I was checked to see if I had made in progress during the past 2 agonizing hours of pain and suffering. To the nurses surprise I was a 10+ and ready to push...wait a sec. I can't push yet! My epidural hasn't kicked in. This was not how I imagined it to go. Coming from the next room over I hear a loud, uncontrollable, ear piercing scream, "what was that?" I asked the nurse. "Oh, that lady didn't get her epidural because the anesthesiologist was in here with you". Some where deep down I felt a little guilty that I was the lucky one (I'm mean really, really, really, deep down...some where...I think) but for the most part I was thinking better her go natural then me.

The doctor pops into the room, slips on his rubber gloves and gown and enthusiastically says, "Let's have us a baby!". Hey, let's not be too peppy here. It's not as if all I have to do is cough and the baby comes flying out. NO.... you're making this sound way too easy....

I promise I do eventually have the baby. But again, time (and my husband) won't allow me to continue. So,

to be continued... again...