The night I howled with the coyotes.
Little Ms. Karen Sugarpants is rallying mommas to share their pregnancy stories – specifically those of us who bake our babes a bit longer than expected – to commiserate with Temporarily Me, who went a week past her due date and was TIRED OF IT. Since my babies think they can mooch off my womb NO LESS THAN 40 weeks, and prefer umbilical feedings to the assault of being squished between pelvic bones and out into the noisy, bright, cold world…I felt I could share at least one story.
I’ll try to leave out words like VAGINA or VULVA or even NIPPLES in case that is offensive to anyone.
Kenny, my most recent delivery (Okay, so it was 5 years ago, but he’s still my BABY!), irritated the fire out of me with enough false start-ups to make a good sitcom. Not wanting to leave his abode in my belly, he didn’t climb out (and indeed, the boy DID climb out) until I was a bit past 41 weeks.
Towards the end of this pregnancy I learned a few things:
- A pressed sciatic nerve is powerful. Powerful enough to bring me DOWN to my knees.
- I learned how to crab walk, because when you can’t walk, and you are fully pregnant, crawling on hands and knees in the traditional sense is NOT HAPPENING.
- I also learned that when the midwife says, “You are not effaced even to a 1.” that is code for, “Go home and pack your bags because that baby is coming in about 5 hours.”
I wrote out my entire birth story at Mothering.com where I used to work. I love that it is still there-it was nice to read it again and sort of experience it fresh.
If you don’t want to read it, please do not think you are the most insensitive clout on God’s green earth, but I do want to share one funny moment. *wink*
When I KNEW I was in labor – marked by the feeling that my son was emerging into the world through my hind end – we loaded into the van and Jeff, in his desire to get to the hospital FAST and NOW, temporarily gave his mind over to the spirit of a New York Taxi Driver.
Upon arriving at the hospital, I was told to sit in a wheelchair. Now, I don’t know how many of you have every had to SIT in a wheelchair in the throngs of labor – especially BACK labor – but it is excruciating. I think I’d rather pull my liver out through my…well, never mind.
The male nurse’s sole job was to push me from the ER to Labor and Delivery. I think he enjoyed it, because he took his time. I remember two things. 1.) wondering if everything slows down in your mind when you are in pain, and 2.) wanting to rip my skin open and jump out of my body.
At any rate, as I was “slow-motion-pushed” down the hall I began to moan. It is how I deal with pain – moaning. As the pain grew, and as my patience depleted, my moans turned to howling. Not loud moaning, mind you, I was HOWLING. It was a full moon after all.
I believe my husband and mother might possibly have tried to *shush* me – after all, we were drawing people from their rooms to see what was going on, but I could not be quieted.
I know that surprises everyone here, but the truth must come out.
I overheard the male nurse say something to Jeff about having worked in Ambulatory Care and he wasn’t bothered by this at all, having witnessed several labor and deliveries. He even told me to “Let it out. Sing it to the wind.” Like I said, I think he was enjoying himself and going slow on purpose.
What he didn’t realize is I could FEEL my son trying to move out of me and I NEEDED to get to my room.
What he didn’t realize – and what I didn’t realize – was my water had broke some time ago.
What he didn’t realize – and what DID realize was that Kenny was coming sooner than later – FINALLY.
And Kenny was in my arms about 26 minutes later; seems Jeff had good reason to worry over me delivering in the van after all.
Oh how he loves his momma.