Labor & Delivery Pt. II
It was time to push.
My loved ones were holding my legs up to help me.
Everyone was coaching me on how to push. One of the nurses said to push as if you were pooping. So that I did, and that I also did.
That's right, I pooped when I gave birth. I'm not ashamed, trust me, at that moment, that was the least of my worries.
Not so much for the other people in the room though. Not the medical professionals, they've seen it all, I mean my poor family.
My husband seemed ok, but my poor sister, she did not take it well and in the middle of my pushing, she just leaves me. I was a little like "where the hell is she?", mainly because my mom couldn't hold my leg up by herself.
I was a cranky lady, I can admit that. I told my sister I wanted the nurse to stop talking, I got snippy with my mom, I think with my husband too. It was just a mess. I wanted everyone to shut up. At one point, the doctor asked me if I wanted to reach down and touch the baby's head and I shook my head both times she asked. I just wanted her to stop talking to me.
My sister wanted to pass out but recuperated enough to be near my head fanning me, and herself in the process. I'm glad she did because towards the end, she was the one I was listening to because she was annoying me the least.
I pushed for about an hour. The nurses and the doctors all said that was a good, short time, but to me it felt endless. Especially because they kept saying they could see his head and that it would pop back in once I stopped pushing. That scared me because I kept picturing him getting stuck, so that pressure didn't help. I pushed with all my might though, I'm very surprised that I didn't pop a blood vessel or something.
Midway through, I was just begging the doctor to cut me and take him out. I kept telling my sister that I couldn't do it and towards the end, right before he came out, I told her I wanted to die. So dramatic. She comforted me and shortly after that, he popped out. I literally felt like a pop and then a whoosh, and then happy sounds from the nurses and doctors, telling me he was out.
A lot of moms describe the moment they first meet their child with lots of happy adjectives. Mine were also happy; relief, thankfulness, joy, etc. but mine were mostly at the fact that it was all over and I didn't have to push anymore. Because I had been in the hospital since Tuesday, and got the epidural early, it had mostly worn off by then so I felt a lot of pain and discomfort during delivery and after. I suffered a 2nd degree tear that I still feel aches in to this day, 7 months later.
As they placed the baby on top of me (the hospital was big on skin to skin), I didn't even cry, I just kept laughing at how happy I was that he was out. I held him and asked him if he remembered me, since they say babies recognize voices. He cried a little bit in response and my husband leaned over and gave me a kiss. I couldn't believe it. He was here!
After that, they weighed him, measured him, cleaned him up and I tried breastfeeding, an adventure I'll get into later. Then they started getting us ready to move to another room for recovery. I wanted to go to the bathroom and the nurse said she wasn't sure I could because of the epidural. Girl, please. What epidural, that bad boy was gone. I slowly got up to show her I could, and she said if my husband went with me, it was ok. Boy, let me tell you, that first pee after giving birth? I might as well have had flames shooting out of me, that's how it felt. Not fun.
The first thing I ate/drank after the baby was born was a delicious strawberry and banana smoothie. I love fruit smoothies and I don't know if it's because I hadn't had solid food in a couple of days, but it tasted so good to me. My husband went to the cafeteria and brought back an assortment of snacks and beverages, but that smoothie had my name on it. I've actually had it a few times since then, still good.
We were eventually moved to our new room, me via wheelchair, to avoid a lawsuit in case I fell, I guess. Once there, we proceeded to have people visiting to get the baby's name for the birth certificate and social security card, doctors for the hearing test and a plethora of nurses for medication purposes, ice bags, to check on baby, show me how to swaddle, help me breastfeed, bring me food, more checking on baby, more questions for us, etc. Needless to say, March 7th, the day I was admitted to the hospital, was the last day I got a decent night's sleep. I miss sleep, but he's worth it (most of the time).
My loved ones were holding my legs up to help me.
Everyone was coaching me on how to push. One of the nurses said to push as if you were pooping. So that I did, and that I also did.
That's right, I pooped when I gave birth. I'm not ashamed, trust me, at that moment, that was the least of my worries.
Not so much for the other people in the room though. Not the medical professionals, they've seen it all, I mean my poor family.
My husband seemed ok, but my poor sister, she did not take it well and in the middle of my pushing, she just leaves me. I was a little like "where the hell is she?", mainly because my mom couldn't hold my leg up by herself.
I was a cranky lady, I can admit that. I told my sister I wanted the nurse to stop talking, I got snippy with my mom, I think with my husband too. It was just a mess. I wanted everyone to shut up. At one point, the doctor asked me if I wanted to reach down and touch the baby's head and I shook my head both times she asked. I just wanted her to stop talking to me.
My sister wanted to pass out but recuperated enough to be near my head fanning me, and herself in the process. I'm glad she did because towards the end, she was the one I was listening to because she was annoying me the least.
I pushed for about an hour. The nurses and the doctors all said that was a good, short time, but to me it felt endless. Especially because they kept saying they could see his head and that it would pop back in once I stopped pushing. That scared me because I kept picturing him getting stuck, so that pressure didn't help. I pushed with all my might though, I'm very surprised that I didn't pop a blood vessel or something.
Midway through, I was just begging the doctor to cut me and take him out. I kept telling my sister that I couldn't do it and towards the end, right before he came out, I told her I wanted to die. So dramatic. She comforted me and shortly after that, he popped out. I literally felt like a pop and then a whoosh, and then happy sounds from the nurses and doctors, telling me he was out.
A lot of moms describe the moment they first meet their child with lots of happy adjectives. Mine were also happy; relief, thankfulness, joy, etc. but mine were mostly at the fact that it was all over and I didn't have to push anymore. Because I had been in the hospital since Tuesday, and got the epidural early, it had mostly worn off by then so I felt a lot of pain and discomfort during delivery and after. I suffered a 2nd degree tear that I still feel aches in to this day, 7 months later.
As they placed the baby on top of me (the hospital was big on skin to skin), I didn't even cry, I just kept laughing at how happy I was that he was out. I held him and asked him if he remembered me, since they say babies recognize voices. He cried a little bit in response and my husband leaned over and gave me a kiss. I couldn't believe it. He was here!
After that, they weighed him, measured him, cleaned him up and I tried breastfeeding, an adventure I'll get into later. Then they started getting us ready to move to another room for recovery. I wanted to go to the bathroom and the nurse said she wasn't sure I could because of the epidural. Girl, please. What epidural, that bad boy was gone. I slowly got up to show her I could, and she said if my husband went with me, it was ok. Boy, let me tell you, that first pee after giving birth? I might as well have had flames shooting out of me, that's how it felt. Not fun.
The first thing I ate/drank after the baby was born was a delicious strawberry and banana smoothie. I love fruit smoothies and I don't know if it's because I hadn't had solid food in a couple of days, but it tasted so good to me. My husband went to the cafeteria and brought back an assortment of snacks and beverages, but that smoothie had my name on it. I've actually had it a few times since then, still good.
We were eventually moved to our new room, me via wheelchair, to avoid a lawsuit in case I fell, I guess. Once there, we proceeded to have people visiting to get the baby's name for the birth certificate and social security card, doctors for the hearing test and a plethora of nurses for medication purposes, ice bags, to check on baby, show me how to swaddle, help me breastfeed, bring me food, more checking on baby, more questions for us, etc. Needless to say, March 7th, the day I was admitted to the hospital, was the last day I got a decent night's sleep. I miss sleep, but he's worth it (most of the time).
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