I have been thinking about this post for a few weeks now. My only daughter is going to be an adult, or at least legal voting age anyway tomorrow. Eighteen years ago, I was in labor, had been for well over 24 hours at this point. Strangely, it seems like yesterday. My memories are just as vivid today as if they were in fact, yesterday. Thankfully though, I am not in labor now! Whew....I had such a tough time, I almost needed a white padded cell when I found out I was pregnant with my son, some several years later. I did need consoling, but that is a whole other story.
I should probably give background on the pregnancy itself. I was young, and rebellious. I got married at 18, to someone I barely knew, but nevertheless, we knew everything, and you can't tell teenagers anything about life. We had been married about four months and then I got pregnant. We didn't have a pot to piss in. Seriously, we were living with my parents, my then husband worked at a gas station. We had no insurance, I was on Medicaid, and I was bringing a new life into this world. In hindsight, I was such a disaster. No clue. I was absolutely oblivous about many things, what was happening, what to expect, where I saw myself in 18 years....I WAS TOTALLY CLUELESS!
I wouldn't trade any of it, I have a beautiful, smart and funny daughter. I learned life lessons, that being a stubborn, strong willed, arrogant know it all, I would have never learned otherwise. But, that does not diminish the fact that I probably should've done things differently. Everything in this world happens for a reason though.
SO....pregnant after four months. I would find out some 11 years later, after becoming pregnant with my baby boy that each time I go on birth control pills I get pregnant. But that too is a story for another day. My pregnancy was not be any means a walk in the park. I was high risk with pre eclampsia, I got food poisoning while I was pregnant, morning sickness never left.....it was miserable.
Because we had nothing, I went through the Health Department Clinic. I saw a midwife. She was great. I had several ultrasounds because of the high risk thing. Each time I went in, which was a lot, also due to the pre-eclampsia, she would measure, we talked about how I was progressing. She seemed concerned that the baby was big but that I didn't seem to be spreading out as much as she would like. ARE YOU KIDDING ME LADY? I gained 75 pounds. YOU HEARD ME 7 and 5, 75 pounds. How much more could I spread? Of course she was not talking about my ever expanding body, she was specifically talking about my hip bones. She was concerned may not be able to deliver without C-section.
So, Monday, September 23rd, after a very loooooooooooonnnngggggggggg hot summer, I was to say the least MISERABLE. But I woke up that day with a little more energy than I had had in days. I decided I was going to the mall, to walk, hopefully that would move things along. I walked that mall up and down, all morning. I got home around 3:00 p.m. I sat down to relax, cause let's face it, carrying around an extra 3/4 of my original body weight for several hours at the mall was a workout! Then about an hour later, I was in labor! Yeah!!!! Success, it worked! In a few short hours I could hold that baby girl I had been dying to meet for what seemed like an eternity.
Yeah, not so fast Missy! We headed into the ER because my contractions were right on top of each other, I couldn't even breathe. One would stop and the next would start. We stopped at the nearest emergency room because my mom didn't think I was going to make it downtown to the hospital I was supposed to deliver in (boy, was she mistaken). They checked me out and the contractions slowed to about 5 minutes apart. I was only at 2cm, so they sent me home and said go downtown later that evening.
Midnight....I couldn't stand it anymore. It was off to University Hospital. We get through all the checking and still 2cm. They wouldn't keep me. We explained that my grandmother was not able to dialate and required C-section for all of her deliveries. They gave me a sleeping pill and sent me home, AGAIN. I was still having contractions 5 minutes apart or less. I took the sleeping pill, and would doze off in between the pains that were getting to be every two minutes apart or so. I waited until 8am when the clinic opened and called the midwife. She told me to come in. I DID. She examined me. She knew the family history, along with her own concerns. She scraped the membrane. It hurt! Damn! It hurt bad. She said she had stretched me to 4cm. She assured me that they would have to keep me now when I went back to the hospital. And with that we were once again on our way to deliver.
We got checked in. They gave me a Pitocin drip and a mobile IV pole and told me to walk the hallways. I get news from family that my girlfriend who had went into labor that morning, had already delivered. OMG! She started after me and she is already done? Do the GODS hate me? Finally they decide to break my water. Now, this is 5pm of day 2, some 25 hours after I went into labor. The lady breaks my water, and says I felt your baby's head, she has a full head of hair. It won't be long now, we should see her in an hour or so.
So....I am really hurting now. They tell me they will give me something for the pain while I am waiting for the anethesiologist to come to administer my epideral. They give me a shot of Stadal. It doesn't make the pain stop, but I was so high at that point it couldn't see the clock on the wall. My stupid ass ex-husband, but husband at the time, says during one of the most painful contractions, "Oh, your not in pain they just gave you something for that." Seriously, if I could've have mustered enough strength to get myself off of that bed, I would never of divorced him, I would've killed him on the spot. It was at that point, I kicked him out and told him to go get mother.
Finally they administered my epideral. That was awful in and of itself, but at least it helped some. We moved from labor to delivery around 1:00 a.m. By this point, I had nothing left, I was spent. When they told me to lift my dead legs and butt up to move from one bed to the other I just looked at them like they were as stupid as I felt they had to be at that point. Really? I have legs? We then started to push. Yes, I finally made it to 10cm. It only took 33 hours. I am doing great.
Oh wait, I forgot. The first episiotomy. Push. The second episiotomy. Yes, literally, they cut me from one end to the other. Push. Push. Just one more push. The nurse said just one more push. Then she said it again, and again, and again. I looked at my mom. I swore. I swore some more. "If she says one more push, one more time, I am going to rip her F!@&*(&*()* head off!" She didn't say that again. Smart girl! The little asian female doctor that happened to be the doctor on call at the time tried and tried to get me delivered. To no avail. She left the delivery room to find help.
She returned with a tall, much larger than her male doctor. He assessed the situation. He said that he was going to try to pull her out with forceps, but we may have to push her back up and prepare for a C-section, She was stuck in my birth canal. I was distraught! I screamed God only knows what at him, the other little woman, the nurse, anyone within ear shot. "You are not splitting my belly open. You have already cut me from one blankity blank blank hole to the other blankity blank blank hole. GET HER OUT!"
Finally, at 4:07 a.m., Wednesday, September 25th, 1991, Mykenna Layne Jones was born. She was beautiful and large. 8lbs. and 12oz, 19in long. Perfect. 10 fingers, 10 toes, and a head full of black hair. She had been stuck in my birth canal for so long she was swollen. She lost almost 2lbs of water weight before I brought her home. When they brought her back to me the next day she almost looked like a different baby. If she didn't look so much like her father, I would have sworn they gave me a different baby the next day. She was tiny. I brought her home that Friday evening. She weighed 6lbs and 11oz. I argued with the doctors, but they finally let me take her home. I was not leaving that hospital without my baby. No siree!
That is the story of how my baby girl made her entrance! Happy Birthday Kenna! I love you!
