Giving Birth: Pushing Like a Boss and Unexpected Complications
Everything about my first pregnancy was a surprise.
From the fact that I was even expecting a baby (yes, I know how it happens), to the fact that ten and a half months later I was 70 pounds heavier, barely able to walk, and still waiting for him to show, it was one big surprise after another.
My pregnancy was a busy time in my life for so many reasons. I was busy being pregnant for the first time. I was busy finishing up my year of teaching. I was busy moving across the country. And, I was busy, getting unofficially engaged to my baby’s daddy husband. So, when I rolled into my 42 week doctor's appointment and found myself being told to go to the hospital immediately from my doctor’s office after gaining 15 pounds in three days, I was shocked.
After being pregnant for eternity 10 and a half whole long months, it was finally time to push this sucker out meet my sweet baby boy.
After checking into the hospital, getting my underwear jacked by a nurse, and settling into my room, I was ready to get the show on the road.
Only, I wasn’t actually in labor. As a matter of fact, my body was actively rebelling against the thought of having a baby come out of it.
So, of course, they rolled in the big guns: Pitocin.
And, I pretty much totally started to lose my ever loving mind. The contractions started coming hard and fast. And they lasted pretty much almost for ever. I couldn’t catch my breath and I came really close to pooping myself. I cried. And I screamed. And then I cried some more. And, when the nurse came in to invade my personal space for the first of many times during this experience, they noted that I was still only dilated a mere 2 centimeters.
I did the only thing that made any kind of sense: asked for an epidural. STAT.
I spent the next few hours in bliss. Watching Friends, taking ridiculous photos of my huge belly, napping, and gorging myself on Italian Ice (which I proceeded to violently throw up just a couple of hours later).
Finally, it was time to push.
Which I did. Like a boss.
Just three large grunts and they were thrusting that mirror down there and telling me to look. Only, no thank you. Because there are parts of myself that I just don’t want to know that well, and the inside of my, um, junk, is one of those things.
After a few more tries I noted some distress beginning to occur in the room. And, the next thing I knew, the nurse had mounted me, her butt to my face, and begun pushing on my belly. While people screamed and rushed about.
I remember being yanked and pushed and pulled in many directions. I remember knowing that my baby was out only he wasn’t making any sounds. And then. I remember the pain.
Intense levels of pain like none I’ve experienced before or since. Screams ripped out of my body. I writhed around on the bed.
So much unlike Baby Story.
The pain was shooting all the way up my chest, bursting out of my scalp, like fire. The gas fueled kind that burns long and hot.
Emergency technicians rushed in. They ripped off my gown, they started attaching things to my chest.
I woke up later to the sounds of talking in my room. Hemorrhaging, I heard. 48 internal stitches, double that on the outside, they said. No more babies. Well, maybe in a few years.
I couldn’t open my eyes. I couldn’t scream BRING ME MY BABY. WHERE IS MY BABY?! Like I wanted to. But I could hear their words. And crying. I think maybe the crying was me.
The next time I woke sun was shining through the window of the new room I’d been moved to. I was laid flat on my back and I was alone.
I shakily climbed over the railing to the bed and went out into the hallway; IV pole dragging behind me, a trail of blood droplets in my wake, as a searched that sterile place for my baby.
I turned a corner and saw my not-yet-husband coming towards me. A look of panic and horror on his face as I stumbled into his arms, begging him to let me see my son.
As he coaxed me back to the room, the nurse came around the opposite corner wheeling a little plastic, baby-filled case on wheels into my room.
And I swear in that moment I knew it was all worth it.
Eleven and a half years later, as I sit here being physically overpowered by the smell coming off of his soccer socks, I’m not as convinced.
Did you have an unexpected turn of events during your child's birth?
Looking for more information about what to expect when giving birth? Check out our Pregnancy Articles for a comprehensive overview.