The Barefoot Files: Labor And Delivery Part 2

So, where were we?

Oh, yes. Dr. Positive About Everything broke my water.

I call her that because when we found out we were having twins, she was like, "How great! You'll be fine!" and then when we found out it was two boys she was all, "I have two boys! Boys are fantastic! You'll be fine!" and when we found out Baby B was breech she was like, "No problem! I'll just reach up in there and guide him out. Easy. You'll be fine!"

I don't know about you but the thought of a grown woman's arm all up in your uterus doesn't seem easy or fine at all. It seems about as easy and fine as getting a tattoo on your eyeball. But because Dr. Positive About Everything is so wonderfully positive about everything, and I catch enthusiasm like kindergartners catch lice, I was all, "Oh great! You'll just reach up there? HOW FUN! This will be no problem!" and then I bounced out of the office like she just told me ice cream is now a food group.

(And that's why I love my doctor. Because I needed someone positive like that when I was about to have four kids under four. I needed all the positivity I could get. And I also needed someone totally cool with the fact that she may or may not be entering my body with half of hers. I dont know where you're from, but in my neck of the woods if a person is going to have instruments and body parts in my hoo-ha I want her to not be angry about it!)

Most people reacted with total horror when I told them the plan, but I was enthusiastic remember? So, I was all, "No, no it's fine. Because of the guiding. . . she's just gonna . . . guide him . . . it'll be . . . there's gonna be a gentle guide. . . there will be guiding."

Anyway! We stayed positive.

And then my water broke, and I could tell immediately my body was ready. And still I was positive. And they started the smallest amount of pitocin. Ten minutes later they brought in the anesthesiologist (oh my god I just spelled that correctly without spell check! I kept waiting for it to be squiggly underlined in red, but no! my day is made.) because even though I was totally against an epidural, my doctor and everyone I talked to gently pressured me into getting one. You know. Because of the guiding.

So, I got the dreaded epidural from the nicest man ever. Seriously, he was so calm and reassuring I almost asked him to stay and talk me through some Walking Dead episodes, because that shit is scary.

During that whole thing I started having some painful contractions but nothing serious. We were told now was the time to rest. Perhaps I should take a nap. Maybe Josh would like some coffee. Just sit back and wait, this is the easy part they said. So, that's what we did. Josh left to get some coffee, the nurse left to do something, and I sat in bed wondering if I should go get my book.

And then, one minute after everyone left me I started having horrible, the-babies-are-coming contractions about thirty seconds apart, and guess what wasn't working???

MY EPIDURAL.

Josh heard me screaming from down the hall and came running (because he's my wonderful), and then I started yelling, "Get the nurse I'm going to push!" so he headed out and I screamed, "DON'T LEAVE ME!" so he grabbed my hand and I growled, "GO GET THE NURSE I NEED TO PUSH!" and he started to leave and I yelled, "HOLD MY HAND!!!" and then "OH GOD GET THE DOCTOR!"

Somehow he pried himself loose from my death grip and ran into the hall and the nurse and the doctor came back in with him, and then everything went into hyper drive.

I just want to take a little break to let you all know, from the time I had the epidural to the time both babies were out was twenty nine minutes.

TWENTY NINE MINUTES.

FOR TWO BABIES.

So, everyone is flailing around, people are helping that aren't even supposed to help, someone who was just volunteering ended up helping push my bed down the hall, everyone is running around, the anesthesiologist comes in and start pushing meds as fast as he can, meanwhile I'm like, "I have to push I'm sorry!"

I just kept saying I'm sorry because I get very apologetic when I'm in labor apparently.

And then we're out of my room about five whole seconds, on our way to the OR when I realize this is it, it's happening. And time slows down and I have about seven hundred separate thoughts: I'm in the hallway and I'm about the have the babies. No one is even going to know because I'm covered in a sheet. Everyone, including that woman delivering meals is about to see me poop. What if they just come tumbling out, I'll have to catch one. Josh needs to let go of my hand so I can catch this baby because he's falling out. I'll have to find a way to clamp the cord myself, and check the placenta. Maybe I'll save it and bury it and plant a tree on top. How will I swaddle him, I don't have any blankets? What's the apgar scale again? Shit, I should have paid more attention in school. I can't even remember what the capital of Delaware is. My boys will know all the capitals. And where foreign places are. I have no idea where all the foreign lands are. Maybe once I chew this cord and make a papoose from some sticks I'll move to a foreign country. Turks or maybe Caicos. This fucking hurts so fucking bad why won't anyone get this fucking baby out of me. Dover! Oh my gosh the capital of Delaware is Dover! Am not totally useless after all! Oh, I'm so alone and apparently I am under the impression because I'm not in a room I will have to do everything myself and that clearly doesn't make sense but no one needs me to make sense right now because

OH MY GOD THE HEAD IS OUT SOMEBODY HELP ME!

And that's how Luke came out.

In the hallway.