I didn’t have a birth plan with Bug. I knew enough to know that nothing goes according to plan, so what’s the point? I wanted to try natural childbirth but wasn’t opposed to an epidural. The only thing I didn’t want- a C-Section. (Guess what I got?)
But I’m jumping ahead of myself.
At the end of the day, I wasn’t nervous about labor until my water broke. Then I kept waiting for the contractions to start wondering how bad they were going to be. (I didn’t have any Braxton Hicks with Bug.) I didn’t have any contractions until we got checked in at the hospital. They started slowly and we were quickly encouraged to start walking the halls.
Hours later, nothing.
They recommended Pitocin. I didn’t have to take it, but if I wasn’t progressing within the next few hours, it was going to be STRONGLY suggested. I figured why wait.
Oh mother. I very quickly learned what a REAL contraction feels like.
Hours and hours later, still nothing.
My heart started palpitating as I knew what was coming. The dreaded c-section.
I still don’t know why it makes me SO nervous. Sure, they are cutting you open, but SO MANY people have had them. (My mother had two.) But it made me nervous. And scared. Ok, mostly scared.
I was a nervous wreck. Ya know those women on the Baby Story that are all calm, cool and collected? I wasn’t one of them. Bless my wonderful husband for doing his damndest to distract me while they took my precious WonderBug from me. It wasn’t cool and it most certainly wasn’t collected. He had me reciting directions to the mall from our house, how to get from our bedroom to the upstairs bathroom…anything to make me think in steps and avoid thinking about the technicalities of what was taking place at the time.
Then Bug was born. My husband cried. I cried. I didn’t get to see him as he had swallowed the meconium and had to be rushed out before he took his first breath. But oh, when he cried! It was breathtakingly beautiful.
And then I sent my husband off to be with the baby. I felt awful. I had the typical post-birth shakes and all I wanted to do was vomit. Not anything I wanted my husband to see. Then? Then I freaked out.
I wasn’t in pain. But I felt way more pressure than I was comfortable with and I literally freaked out. The anesthesiologist said he would give me a little something…and I woke up an hour or so later.
I don’t remember seeing my son for the first time. I was groggy and in a daze. Thank God there are pictures (I look a hot mess but I guess it really doesn’t matter.) I can’t remember when I actually got to hold him. It wasn’t what I envisioned at all.
I hadn’t realized how unhappy I was with the whole experience until we started talking about baby #2. I suddenly realized I wanted a VBAC. I wanted it bad.
I want to be able to hold my child immediately afterward and REMEMBER it. I was robbed of that memory….but I need to let that go. Bug was healthy…IS healthy. He was safe. That’s all that mattered.
Whatever happens this time, I know it will be different. Maybe not better or worse, but it will different. Again, all that matters is the safe, healthy birth of my baby girl by whatever means are necessary.
But I hope I get my memory. I’m going to cross my fingers and toes and say a few prayers.
Heck, I might even wish on a falling star.