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Labor: Part Two!
Well, it looks like another three months have indeed passed between now and my last post after all. Interestingly enough, I am once again writing after finishing a long second shift of working again. No wine this time, though. I just got online to pay some bills and send an email to out wedding invitation graphic designer- we have finally selected our offcial save-the-date! But I had a late cup of coffee this evening at work, so I am not quite sleepy enough to head to bed. Ramona is not feeling well either, so she is in bed with Kyle right now, which means that when I go to bed I won't be able to play games on my phone as I usually do before bed because the light from my phone is likely to keep Mona awake. So, I guess it is about time I finish up my labor story, right? I think I left off right after checking in at Women and Babies' Hospital. Oh, and I never mentioned in the last post that, through the entire beginning stages of labor and up until leaving for the hospital, I had been texting Sam frequently to tell her my status and hear what her thoughts were regarding what was going on and what was to come. She was hugely helpful to me, and I don't want to ever forget that she was very much involved with the first phase of labor. I will always be very grateful that she stepped up in such a motherly way. Anyway...

So, after checking in at the front desk of the hospital, we were sent to triage. Sometimes people wait in a triage waiting room, but we checked in with the triage secretary, and then we were immediately escorted to a triage room with a bed and monitors of all sorts. I recall crouching on the floor though while I checked in with the secretary. Another contraction had come and by that point, I had decided that my labor/contraction position of choice was to be on the floor. Once in my private triage room I was able to change into the hospital gown, and then another contraction came at me. I remember sitting up on my knees on a lounge chair facing the back of the chair to labor through it, and this was when the triage doc decided to greet us (Kyle was in the room with me, of course). She basically had to wait til my contraction passed because I wasn't really able to speak to her through the pain. I think her name was Angie and she seemed annoyed that Kyle and I showed up at the hospital without calling first. I had figured that the same instructions from the night before would still apply, so I just waited at home until the pain was unbearable and then off we went. Apparently the protocol is basically to always call first. And we didn't do that, so the doctor was not happy with us. Then, after examining me, she asked me what I wanted to do to treat the pain, as she claimed I was "not coping well." This floored me. Wouldn't that be for me to decide? I had felt, at that point, like I was actually coping okay on my own. I was not enjoying the pain of course, but I would just get into a lower, balled up position of some sort and basically moan and yell throuh the contraction. Sure, this was likely annoying. But I was okay with that method, at least for the time being. So I told Angie this, that I didn't feel I'd need any pain meds and I wanted a natural, drug free labor and delivery. She didn't laugh at me, but she sort of snarled and informed me that I was only 4 centimeters dilated. This was devastating news to me! I wasn't even half way there! But I was stubborn and insisted that I would just wait it out in triage until I was progressed enough to be admitted. I decided to try a shower to ease the pain. This was an absolutely ridiculous idea though, because there is nothing other than drugs that will do a damn thing for labor pain. Kyle and I went off to the bathroom where the nurses left us alone so I could try to labor in the shower privately. I remember sitting on the toilet and feeling as though I might have to deal with diarrhea on top of the labor pain (this is common), and then a contraction came and I began to feel very, very scared because it was BAD. There was also some diarrhea which upset me because poor Kyle was stuck in there with me, but truthfully, I think it was much worse in my head than it was in reality. He may not have even known it was happening- I'll have to ask him sometime. But anyway, then I tried to labor in the shower stall and another contraction came and I went straight down onto the floor and felt so much pain and also nausea because it just hurt so fucking bad, and then I knew a natural birth was not for me. After the contraction passed and I was able to speak, I asked Kyle to first help me up off the floor, and then to go get a nurse and tell her I was ready for an epidural. He later told me how relieved he was that I "gave up," and decided to accept the help of the drugs. I barely made it back to my room without collapsing on the floor in pain. The doctors and nurses couldn't get to me fast enough. I wanted that epidural BAD. And I wanted to lie down, BAD. When they finally came to my rescue, they first had to start an IV line in my arm which normally would be a pain in the ass for everyone involved but I wanted that epidural like nothing else so I think the IV line was achieved relatively easily, given my history of fighting it. And they started a liter of fluids on me, and things get pretty blurry for me here. I know I yelled and screamed each time a contraction came, and I know they wheeled me out of triage and into a labor/delivery room while I continued to yell and scream. I do not know how long this went on for though. The next clear memory I have is of the anesthesiologist who came to administer my epidural. He was Asian and he was my knight in shining armor. He was also super patient given how insane I was getting to be. I had a great nurse too, but I don't recall her name. She, too, was impressively patient and tolderant of my behavior. And by "behavior" I mean yelling, screaming, literally kicking, begging for help, and bawling in between. I was a hot mess. Yes, I literally would scream "PUHHHHH-LEEEEAASSEEE, HEEEEEELLPP MEEEEEEEE, PUHHH-LEEEAAASSSSEEEEEEEE!" over and over and over. It was definitely intense. So and nurses and doctors told me I needed to get off of one bed and onto another and I was very much unhappy about this task. Ten minutes later, I was where they wanted me to be, on the correct bed. They even asked me to scoot either down or up on the bed, and I could barely do that much. Then they asked me to sit upright with my feet off the side of the bed and that was another next to impossible task for me. I remember a contraction coming and I was sitting there, just like they asked me to, with both hands placed on a nurses shoulders who was standing in front of me, and Kyle was just next to her with his hands on my thighs or my shoulders or something, trying to soothe me, and I was just kicking him, hard, in the shins as I labored through another contraction. I also unintentionally whacked the nurse in the face, but I don't remember how that happened exactly. After that contraction passed, it was time for the epidural. The anesthesiologist applied some sort of surgical scrub to my back, and he was about to stick me with the needle when I felt another contraction coming and I begged him to stop and wait til the contraction passed because I knew I wouldn't be able to hold totally still while he did his job. I do not remember if he obliged, or if he told me it was too late and to hold still. I just know I went back to kicking poor Kyle. The next thing  I remember, the anesthesiologist told me he was finished and relief was on the way. It'd only be a matter of minutes til I'd notice a decrease in the pain. And he was right! Within five minutes, the pain was much more tolerable, and within ten it was gone. It was a miracle if I have ever seen one.

And I am officially exhausted and ready to go upstairs and cuddle up to my baby girl and reminisce about the day she came into my world and my life. So this is going to be at least a three-part account of the day my Jelly Bean was born. This was "Labor: Part Two!" Until next time... Goodnight!


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