The Labor Saga - part 1
I cannot pretend that I am anywhere near 100% though physically I have healed from labor and have a healthy, determined little girl in my arms. I say this so you can be gentle as you read my next few posts - I have only been able to sleep in 2-4 hour shifts since my 44-hour labor. As a person with bipolar, I can’t express how much this has diminished my mental capacity - right now Dora the Explorer’s plot lines lose me. So be kind or I’ll have to go postpartum postal on your bupkes.
Despite my mental fog, it has been three weeks since our “blessed event” (what a semi-sarcastic euphemism that is!) and I really should at least attempt to tell my tale. Or return to writing. Or whatever.
Let me start by saying that child labor - as in the kind that brings children into the world, not putting a child to work in the coal mine with that little canary - is not at all like they show on television. A woman’s water typically doesn’t suddenly break and bring an onslaught of contractions worth screaming over. Oh, nay nay! Labor, for most women as it was for me, is a game of hurry up and wait. Contractions come - they range from uncomfortably ticklish to truly painful - and then they go for a few minutes. For hours on end, it’s an ebb and flow situation with little progress as far as dilation. Only 1 in 10 women will actually have her water break on its own, the rest of womankind must wait for the good OBGYN and his/her giant crochet needle. Oh my, but I get ahead of myself!
Sunday, March 23rd - Easter here in the States, which irritates me to no end because Pesach (Passover for you goyim) isn’t until late April! But that’s a topic for another post. Back to our story. Easter day. Being on bedrest and feeling particularly tired, I opted out of the family festivities at J’s aunt’s home which was an uncannily wise choice considering at 7:15 pm, just as I finished the plate of food Justin brought me, I felt contractions. Mind you I had been feeling pretty strong Braxton-Hicks contractions off and on all weekend, sometimes for up to two hours, but this felt different. Not physically, mind you, but somehow I knew this was it. The beginning of the big “it”. The contraction lasted about 45 seconds.
Then at 7:21 pm another contraction at about a minute long.
7:25 pm. Contraction 3 - 45 seconds.
7:30 pm. Contraction 4 - 45 seconds.
Now at this point, all of the literature the hospital had given us said it was time to go to the hospital. But considering I could take the discomfort of the contractions quite tolerably on my couch in my jammies with my dog and did not wish to be reintroduced to the needle-y evil that is the IV, I decided quite early to ride out as much of labor as I could at home.
8:30 pm. Justin - in his typical denial-loving way, wanting to believe it was just more Braxton-Hicks - asked if I was comfortable with him going to the gym. He had missed the past few days and “really needed to go”. I told him to not worry about it but make sure his cell stayed on.
The next hour and half passed with Justin at the gym, my Mom on the couch opposite the love seat and Pride & Prejudice being half-watched the background. My Mom’s dark eyes shone with glee with every other contraction as she’d exclaim “This is it, mija!”
“Uh, yeah, I know,” I said after the ump-teenth time, half-laughing, half-grunting through yet another contraction.
10 pm-ish. Justin returned home to find me still contracting on the love seat. He began to look nervous especially when seeing my Mom’s growing excitement.
“Do you really think this is it?” he asked her.
“Uh, YEAH!” she cried. Of course, he believed her though I’d told him two or three times that I was pretty dang sure this was it considering the contractions had been no longer than 8 minutes apart, though the length and actual timing were inconsistent. I just figured that was a sign this was going to be a long labor.
Frickin’ foreshadowed understatement.
So what Justin do the minute he realizes this is “it” at 10:30 pm? He starts to read the instruction manual for the infant carrier/car seat! I’m sitting on the love seat, breathing through contractions and all he can do he focus on the frickin’ car seat. Don’t get me wrong; I understand that making sure we understand how to use the car seat is indeed important. But there is a time and a place, say, NOT WHEN YOUR WIFE IS IN LABOR. I try to somewhat diplomatically tell Justin this when he snaps back that this? See, this? It is important! We can’t take Miri home if we don’t have the car seat properly assembled! I am in awe at his seeming I’m-going-to-be-a-Daddy-soon panic.
“Look at me,” I said. “I AM IN LABOR. Focus on ME now. How about that?”
“After I finish this,” he says, insistently holding up the manual.
“Fine, but I’m never letting you live this down. Twenty-five years from now I’ll still be telling this story, you get that right?”
He grunts. I laugh.
The contractions continued through him figuring out the car seat and through him finally helping me relax by massaging my hands. At this time the contractions were pretty uncomfortable, but I managed to move around a bit while Justin and my Mom switched off timing them. I packed our cute backpack-diaper bag with items for the hospital, cuddled with Zoë, discussed the merits of mini-series versus films with my Mom and watched Disney’s Robin Hood with Justin. I even managed to get my birth story out of my mother with relatively little hostility regarding my father - which if you know my mother is a miracle just this side of peace in the Middle East. Dang - labor was almost pleasant!
Somewhere around 1:30 am, Justin asked me if I was okay if he went to bed. I encouraged him to get some sleep while he still could though I was starting to eye the clock wondering how much longer I could handle the labor at home. I could feel my cervix opening between certain contractions and the baby was settling lower and lower in my womb.
2:45 am. The contractions were getting hard and starting to be really uncomfortable to the point of painful. I waddled into our bedroom where Justin was snoring. Mid-contraction I loudly whisper to him “I really think it’s time to head to the hospital, babe.”
“You sure?” he says through unopened eyes.
“Yes,” comes the answer through clenched jaw.
He rubbed his eyes, looked at me in my pain and popped out of bed.
Oh yeah, it was definitely starting to hurt and this kid was definitely coming. And we’re only to hour 8.
Keep reading at The Labor Saga - part 2…
April 17th, 2008 at 9:05 am
I’ve missed you. I’m glad you’re back. I’m sorry you had a rough labor…men are insensative assholes who can’t even handle a finger flick to the nards, how do you expect them to empathize with labor pains?
Thanks, it’s good to be back but that hostility was unexpected. Justin was great, he just obviously panicked a bit. (He swears he didn’t panic, but c’mon, who reads an instructional manual when his wife is in labor UNLESS he’s panicking? LOL.
Vanessa, keep reading the saga as it unfolds and you’ll see he’s been fabulous with me…
- mercurial
April 17th, 2008 at 12:42 pm
Wow. It just now hit me. Rowan’s delivery: in the delivery ward entance at about 1:30 is am… out comes rowan at 8:17 am with 2 pushes.
The first pregnancy… 70+ hour labor. Yes. I think it was just over 74 hours. In and out of the maternity ward 4 times… went back at 7:00 am, dr broke water and induced dialtion with patossin by 7:30 am, baby wasn’t born til 8:11 pm. This brought back some PAINFUL memories.
Men have a completely different way of dealing. They aren’t assholes. They just don’t know. I had septicemia, where my body temp would stoop down to below 92 and rise up to 105 plus, which happened when i was 2 months pregnant. It was a gradual progression from NYE when I was only a couple weeks pregnant (which he had speculation and I knew for sure but was still saying no no don’t worry) was fighting a stomach flu and had a mojor sore throat and he still dragged me out to his friends’ stupid second hand-smoke party, and conmtunied this AFTER he came back from OZ, after 3 months, in my 2nd trimester. They just don’t know. They don’t knwo how painful and lonely it is. The think about other things and there is no amount of reading yelling or wearing of sympathy bellies that will ever change that. I am just thankful that he, in his odd and annoying way of nesting, is a responsible and loving father and boyfriend. You will bring it up 25 years form now, but at least you’ll be laughing.
PPD can make you insane… any comment I received from anyone sent me over the edge the first few months. Especially wit the breastfeeding. Even the slightest comment made me want to kill myself. Just surround yourself with positivity because it is such a sensitive case thta no one, unless they’ve been there, will understand.
I’m glad you’re feeling better. Hang in there.
Who said anything about PPD? I’m definitely doing the baby blues but nowhere near PPD…
70+ hours of labor? O.M.G.
It’s funny how this turned into a thing about men because though a bit odd, J was awesome. I am never letting him live the manual thing down, but even as I said it I was laughing. Gotta find the humor in life as you go otherwise you really will go crazy, you know?
- mercurial
April 18th, 2008 at 4:29 pm
Hi cranky.
You sound like you’re holding up ok-you WILL sleep again, I promise. And those first few nights will be better than the best sex.
44 hours! OY! I’m so lucky mine were short!
Mogo paniced as well-I think it’s natural given the circumstances. He was ok with Vivian, but Rosalyn came on so suddenly that I nearly had to smack him to get him moving.
If you need anything, please email me. The sleep issue can muck stuff up, but I’m glad to hear you in good spirits. I have been waiting for an update!
HAHA. I am cranky!
Husband still contests he didn’t panic, but I still stand that the evidence backs me up.
More to come, I promise…
- mercurial
April 18th, 2008 at 6:45 pm
Not having had the experience of a man (and a mother!) around during labour I think they both sound very cute.
And definitely a good idea to stay home in the comfy jammies as long as possible. Looking forward to reading about the other 36 hours. Whenever you’re up to it.
Take care.
Thank you, I will; and indeed, they are cute though my Husband make resent my saying so in this case! LOL.
More to come!
- mercurial
April 21st, 2008 at 4:30 am
congratulations! 44 hours of labor, brutal new parent sleep deprivation, and you still somehow manage to get it together enough to write your story? damn. and i thought i was on top of my game for managing to get a six minute shower in the other day while my little man was sleeping. guess i’ve got to step up the game, huh? but seriously, congratulations and best of luck.
April 22nd, 2008 at 7:37 am
Thanks for posting. I was worried about you.
The hardest transition for me was the weeks after my first was born. (It was only a 24-hour labor, so not close to a comparison.) The demands of a newborn baby are so shocking if you’re like me and haven’t had any contact with newborns before holding your own.
**hugs** and I hope the baby-bluesyness stays manageable.
April 22nd, 2008 at 8:57 pm
Ok, as a man I must say I had to laugh at what Justin was doing here–I was the guy who didn’t want to head to the hospital until the movie was over; who, after taking all the classes, still couldn’t read the machine and would tell my wife when she was having a contraction (and she wasn’t), who kept getting distracted by Bob Villa building storm doors on Letterman. I was not trying to be an idiot, just was one. Luckily my wife is very understanding and we laugh about it today.
May 6th, 2008 at 3:53 am
First of all, CONGRATULATIONS!!!
Second, in my recent research about PPD, I read that a woman’s hormones are the MOST crazy the few days/weeks after delivery. It’s like a huge crash after all that mood-boosting estrogen for 9 months.
I don’t know about you, but in the first few weeks, sometimes I felt like crying just when I thought about her growing up. It was so overwhelming.
The good news? It REALLY DOES get easier. I promise. By 12 weeks you’ll be amazed at how much your bambino has changed.
Feel free to e-mail me if you need to vent or anything else for that matter.
May 7th, 2008 at 5:52 am
I’m just very happy for you that you have a healthy baby girl! Labor stories are awesome for the simple fact that you get to pass them down for generations - I’m sharing your story with friends now and we’re laughing, and some day you’ll be sharing this with your grandchildren and you’ll have them rolling on the floor. Congratulations!!!!
May 10th, 2008 at 7:44 pm
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