Thursday, August 16, 2007

Baby Boys Birth Part 1

I have found that I truly enjoy motherhood. It takes a lot out of you, but it gives you so much more. Though Baby Boy is almost three weeks old I can't remember what my life was like without him. Maybe that is the exhaustion talking, or maybe it is my souls connection. It is truly weird that I feel this way because, lets be honest, I am not the maternal type. I don't like other peoples children, I find them to be little snot nosed cretins who I want no where near my precious little boy.
I know that I have awaken the beast in me. I don't mind changing diapers or never sleeping longer then a two hours at a time. As long as he smiles at me, it all seems worth it. This is the story of him coming into this world.
I want to take a moment to sing the praises of my awesome husband. Since the first contraction he has been by my side. He would rub my back, make endless ice chip runs, let me cry "I am stronger then this" when I felt like I could take no more. I would feel the pain coming and I would squeeze the hell out of my Mom's hands as she reminded me to breathe, and I would try to focus on my hubby's touch. When my slack ass nurse wouldn't come in a timely manner so that I could pee in a bed pan, Crow stepped up and brought me the little yellow piss bowl. He was amazing and I will always be grateful for his help. But, I feel that I have jumped ahead in this little story. So let us begin at 4:00 am on July 27.
I didn't sleep that night before. I felt like a child waiting for Christmas day. That is if Christmas consisted of Santa Clause clawing his way out of your stomach in order for you to receive presents. I was wondering what labor would be like, I wondered what Baby Boy would look like. My mind was in a whirl wind. So at 4:00 am I get up and my mouth was dry as hell. I had not been allowed to eat or drink anything after midnight. Kinda like a gremlin. The last time I ate or drank anything was a 9 o'clock the night before. I sit outside on the porch with my Mom as she drinks her coffee and smokes. I am jealous as hell that she gets to drink. I watch the cup go to her mouth and back down. All I had to drink was a small sip of water that I snuck while brushing me teeth. 4:30 comes and I can no longer take this torture, so I get in the shower with Crow and we leave soon after I get out.
It is 5:45 and I arrive at the hospital to fill out paperwork. It takes about 15 minutes and I have to be alone while doing it. Mom, Dad, and Crow are all standing outside the glass doors watching. I think I surprised the receptionist when by hospital policy she asked if I would like to fill out a living will. I said "Yes, I don't want to end up all vegetabled". I don't know why I felt this was the time to decide such matters, and apparently no one else ever request it cause the receptionist looks at me like I am some sort of freak. I smile shyly and quickly leave to get into my delivery room. (Come to think of it the receptionist never brought me that paperwork.)
Anyway, so we get into the delivery room. It reminds me of a best western hotel. Tacky decor and random furniture placed around the room. This old woman demands that I undress completely and get into bed. I do as I was told. The nurse comes in to ask me questions and informs me that she is getting off shift so I would have a different nurse. They put these belts around my stomach and we see that I am already having little contractions. I wonder why I can't feel them. My new nurse comes in and I have to use the restroom. All she had to do was take off those damn belts. The bathroom is about eight feet away. She wont let me go. She grabs the bed pan. I am mortified, but I have to go. I clear the room, she stands over me and watches as I try to empty my bladder. I finally do, but I feel uneasy about it. I can't help but wonder how many women actually gave birth to their babies in the toilet. Surely it is not common practice for women to drop their baby when they drop a load. But, all them damn teenage girls giving birth in bathroom stalls ruined it for us all.
So 8 o'clock comes around and my doctor comes in to break my water. He pokes my uterus and water gushes between my legs. It has begun. It doesn't hurt at this point, it just feels like I am doing crunches. The doctor puts two rods up my vagina. One is to monitor contractions, the other is placed on Baby Boy's head to monitor his heart beat. This does not feel good!
Well, this seems to be a good place to stop. Stay tuned folks cause in the next exciting episode we will discuss active labor.

Friday, August 03, 2007

Goodbye Modesty, Hello Vagina

There is truly a million things to write about my labor. And in time I will get to them all, but right now I want to talk to you seriously about covering my vagina.
I am EXTREMELY modest, some might say a prude. I do not go around revealing my down under special spot unless it is to my hubby, and only if he intends on treating it to fun time. But as I lay in the hospital bed last Friday my vagina was on display. Everyone and their mother was coming in to examine my clam. Sometimes the nurse would "check" me then leave the blanket down for no apparent reason. I don't know maybe my cootie needed to air dry in order to birth my baby. They never quite explained it to me. All I know is my lips were cold and I wanted desperately to be covered with Victoria's secret.
Also, it was not enough to just display my vagina, everyone had to touch it. Now I am talking about a gentle pat, like it is used to. NO, everyone had to man handle me, and make my cunt their bitch. They acted as if my vagina was some sort of handle to pick me up by and carry me around the room like Paris Hilton's dog. The abuse left me feeling dirty and fisted. No one deserves to feel this way.
So now that I am home, I have gone back to ignoring my vagina. I figure it the right thing to do, after all it needs a break. Maybe someday we (me and V) will sit down, V looking up, me bent between my legs and we will have a discussion about what occurred. But to be honest we probably wont because V has gone recluse and I, well like I said I'm a prude.