We're home

Calleigh Mae was born Thursday, 8/24/06, 10:29 am, 7 lbs. 1 oz., 18 1/2 in.

Warning: This post contains graphic material that may not be suitable for all readers. Viewer discretion is advised.

We went in as scheduled on Thursday morning for induction. By 6:10 am, I was hooked up to the Pitocin drip and they were upping the dosage every 20-30 minutes. At 8 the doctor came in and broke my water. There was meconium in the fluid and they said it was a good thing we were in for induction. I will not explain meconium, google it if you don't know and really must.

I warned them that we went really fast with Kitten after they broke my water. The anethesiologist came in immediately for an epidural and by about 8:45, I was hooked up. One side started getting numb pretty quickly, but the other was not getting numb yet.

An hour later, the Earth exploded. With about 5 minutes of ramp-up time, I hit a 10 on the pain scale. Had I been able to speak coherent sentences, I wanted to ask if maybe we could dial back the Pitocin until we got the epidural situation figured out, as it clearly wasn't working. However, it came out as a demonic growling moan, so I didn't quite get my point across. Pants mentioned that perhaps the contraction monitor wasn't in the right position, as it was barely registering contractions at all and I was tearing off the bed rails. As if I cared what the monitor said, I actually took my last 30 second break between contractions to move the monitor, which then immediately registered a 10 (Richter scale). This sent the nurses trucking in, as clearly Hell had vomited its demons into my room.

So the nurses come in to witness me speaking in tongues and are trying to get me to lay quietly on my back so they can "check me". And yes, that means exactly what you are afraid it means. Now, laying on my back has not really been a viable option for the last 4 1/2 months, so I'm not sure how we all jumped to the conclusion that this is what I was capable of at the time. But the nurses insist for at least a minute or two that I attempt to let go of my death grip on the bed and roll over.

And then. Then I figure out very suddenly that it is time to push. And I politely let them know this, as they seem to want to help. But lo and behold, we must wait for the doctor to come. Like I give a rat's ass if he's there or not. But I wait. And he shows up. And I am informed that we must wait for the doctor to get a gown on, as he is wearing bright khakis and a lovely polo and it would be a shame to get anything on them. And for what feels to me like half an hour but is probably about 46 seconds, the nurse continues to tell me we are waiting for the doctor to get covered up before I can push and I finally manage a snide comment because I really just want her and everyone else to shut up and stop touching me.

So then the doctor is ready and they announce, "Okay you can start pushing" like I can just turn the channel and watch something else. This takes a minute to change tracks. But I start pushing, which actually is the best and worst of all scenarios. Pushing alleviates the pain you are in trying to stop the pushing, but creates an entirely new realm of pain. I remember screaming, in one of four semi-complete sentences that didn't involve taking the Lord's name in vain, that I couldn't do it anymore becuase it hurt. I don't think I even believed it when I said it, but it seemed like the thing to say at the time.

Then she was born. They put her on my stomach just long enough to cut the cord and get her over to the isolette to suction the meconium out of her lungs. I got stitched (rather quickly, I might add, thanks doc!), but they kept her in the isolette for a while because her temp was a little low. Thank god for digital cameras, Pants was able to take pictures and even a short movie and come show me.

In the end, we are all fine. Meimei bounced back quickly, I didn't disintegrate or bleed to death, and everyone is happy, healthy, and home.

And next time I will actually talk about the kid.