Labour…HOLY CRAP!

Nesting picture

As you may know from my last post, I spent 29 hours in labour with my son…and let me tell you it was worse than they said it would be!

The night before I went into labour I nested. I really don’t know why they call it that, because for me I just became a crazy mad woman who needed to scrub the entire world clean. Nesting is so deceptive of a word for what actually happens, which I found is the case with almost everything pertaining to pregnancy and parenting. I mean when I think of nesting, I think of folding cute little onesies, unpacking the mountain of diapers you bought, and placing all the lotions and potions you will soon figure out you don’t need in their rightful place. It sounds like you would be arranging the stuffed animals and toys they will just spit up on and checking and re-checking the baby monitor to make sure it works.

It is NOTHING like that (at least it wasn’t for me).

Labour BallI all of a sudden got bionic vision and could see every speck of dust in our house and it needed to exit the premises…NOW. Every scuff on the floor needed to be removed, immediately. The toilet, the tub, the sink, needed to be scrubbed and sterilized, and my car needed to be completely wiped down and immaculate. The windows needed to be washed, the counter’s wiped down. All things baby related needed to be sanitized, sterilized and decontaminated. I was like a junkie on speed, doing all of this in a matter of hours. Please note: I was home and bored stiff the entire week before I went into labour, I cleaned so much that week you could have probably eaten off my floor, but I still thought I saw dirt/dust and it had to be removed.

Then I apparently became a marathon walker. I walked for 2 hours straight, in my underground garage and the only reason I stopped was because my husband was blowing up my phone wondering what the hell I was doing walking the garage at 10:30 at night. Did I mention that I was as big as a house!

I went back to our apartment, showered and finally went to “bed”, which really meant sitting on my labour ball with my head on the bed, praying I don’t fall over if I happen to be able to finally fall asleep.

And it was like my uterus thought it was Cinderella and at the stroke of midnight I felt my first contraction and I remember thinking “hmm this isn’t so bad”. Then 10 minutes later another one came, and this went on until about 2am. And I sat on my ball riding each of the contractions out like they taught me in Lamaze, resting my head in-between. I didn’t even bother waking my husband up it was so easy.

Then at 2am they became 5 minutes apart, and more intense. I no longer had a good break between them and things started to get uncomfortable. So I called the hospital as instructed, woke my husband so he could shower and tried calling my parents and sister-in-law who wanted to be there for the birth. Long Labour

By 4am, I was eager to get to the hospital, so my husband headed to the car with my bags and I waited for him in the lobby where I met my new “friend” the crackhead possible prostitute wanna be birthing partner. Now I know what you may be thinking…where the hell do you live that there is a crackhead possible lady of the night in your lobby at 4am? And while I do live in Scarborough which in some areas could have been the explanation, we actually live in a great area, in a gated condo so this was not the norm.

My new friend would not shut-up and started calling her other crackhead possibly prostitute friends to tell them all about the “lady who is TOTALLY going to give birth” and asking them what she should do. Luckily for her I was too involved in my painful contractions to tell this lady she should do “ABSOLUTELY nothing” and that she should seriously take her cray cray crackhead ass away from me. All I could muster was a death look, to which she perceived as me needing her to hold my hand through it, and rub my back. This woman came within an inch of losing her life once I got past my contraction, and lucky for her, my husband pulled up at that moment.

We couldn’t leave right away as we were waiting for my sister-in-law to show up, so the crackhead possible prostitute started to drive him crazy. She paced back and forth going “Oh my God! She’s in labour” “Oh my God, what do we do?” “Oh my God, she needs to get to the hospital”. And at one point as my sister-in-law was pulling up the driveway, this woman seemed to be trying to come to the hospital with us! My husband shut that down real quick and we were on our way.

After all of that, we finally get to the hospital only to be told that I was only 1cm dilated and I had to walk for an hour to see if I will progress. So I went walking and of course nothing happened so we were sent home and told my contractions need to be so intense that I can’t speak, that they need to be 5 minutes apart lasting at the peak of pain for 1 minute. Oh and the icing on the cake was they also told me I could continue like this not for hours, but DAYS!!!! So now it’s been over 24 hours since I slept and I am at hour 8 of labour and during all of this my contractions remained 5 minutes or less apart. This was NOT going to be pretty.

EpiduralSo I went home and I tried to sleep, it was impossible. And the pain was so intense that I couldn’t get comfortable. I went from my ball, to my bed, to the bath. Nothing they taught me was working. And I vomited until there was nothing left. My husband tried his hip press, and that just distracted me from the pain, but I was willing to take it. My parents arrived at our house at about 3pm. And my Mom, Dad and husband tag teamed trying to make this unbearable pain better. I was beyond exhausted! The pain was beyond anything I imagined and by 7pm the pain was so bad I couldn’t speak; all I could do was run through a slew of profanities in my mind. This was NOTHING like they showed on TV! There was no screaming. There was no “YOU DID THIS TO ME!” It was a lot of moaning, groaning, grunting, panting and sounds I couldn’t even begin to describe…it was finally time to go back to the hospital.

It was hour 20 of labour and I was awake for over 36 hours. I got to the hospital and I couldn’t take it anymore. I was doubled over in pain, I was biting the hospital bed it was so bad. So when they asked me if I wanted an epidural I gave the nurse a VERY desperate YES! It took another 4 hours for them to get to me, but the hospital was great trying to keep me comfortable the whole time. They say you forget the pain after a while…it’s been 16 months, I still remember vividly.

Once I got the epidural, I was told to get some rest, and I tried, but I hated the feeling or should I say not feeling my legs, and after about an hour I started vomiting profusely. (I suffered from Hyperemesis Gravidarum (HG) throughout my entire pregnancy) By about 3am the vomiting finally stopped and the nurse asked if I wanted to try pushing, so my husband began gathering the “troops” (my push buddies) and by 4am we were ready to give it a go.

The nurse gave me the preamble of this can take as long as 2 plus hours, she checked my cervix and walked me through how I was supposed to push out this little monster of mine and on my next contraction we were going to start. My sister-in-law called my parents to come back to the hospital just as the contraction came and so I pushed like I never pushed before. The nurse all of a sudden got really excited and checked me again and told me not to move until she came back. I waited 2 contractions fighting the natural urge to push again before she came back. pushing

She let us know that the doctor was on his way and started to pull out all of the utensils needed to deliver a baby. Another contraction came and I asked if I could push again she nonchalantly said “sure”. So I pushed with everything in me and immediately the nurse started to demand I stop and not move. My push buddies were getting excited and my husband was breaking the number one rule and looking below the waist. My sister-in-law had my parents on speaker phone because they weren’t going to make it back to the hospital in time and everyone was yelling about seeing the head.

All of the sudden a magical mirror, that I explicitly said I didn’t want, appeared above me (by the way we still don’t know how it got there or where it went afterwards) and I could see my little guys head crowning. The nurse instructed me not to move a muscle, as she tried to hold my son’s head in. But my son was having none of it and slowly started to slide completely out just as the doctor was walking into the room.

He was perfect! He was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen, and when they placed him on me (after cleaning him off first of course) I instantly fell in love. He was born 7lbs 3oz at 4:52am and he became the most important thing in my life.

29 hours of labour, 2 pushes and over 48 hours of no sleep; and if I could just do the delivery part of pregnancy I would do it all over again.

Henry Jakob Beljo

Henry Jakob Beljo

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