Happier Times 2/Birth

I announced to my husband, that today was the big day. I showered and dressed, but didn't eat breakfast. At birthing classes, I was told it was important not to eat before giving birth-just in case. I didn't care. I couldn't wait to hold my very own baby.

My husband had plans for the day to meet up with friends. Several guys showed up. They were disappointed to hear he couldn't leave and wanted to know how in the world I knew I was going to have a baby that day. I wasn't about to share details of how my body was making preparations for an impending birth. I mean, really, way too much information for single, 20 something young men.

Throughout the day, I had contractions, but nothing dramatic. Each one brought increased excitement. Around dinnertime, consistent squeezings were at 12 minute intervals. ( I was starving, so mealtimes were significant. I noticed each missed eating opportunity.) The father-to-be said something about going out to get food for himself and left. He really went up to the corner Circle K Market to call my sister. We didn't own a phone, and he was getting worried. My sister lived just a couple miles away and had survived giving birth. He figured she'd know what to do.

I was a little surprised when he came back with my sister and her husband. The last thing I needed was for 2 more people to hover over me, asking if it was time yet. Thankfully, we played cards for the next several hours. Around 10:30, Carolyn decided they were going home and would check back in tomorrow. But she didn't. She drove to the corner Circle K and phoned my doctor to express her concern. He told her I should go to the hospital to be checked. Fifteen minutes after I thought Carolyn and Larry had gone home, they returned to say they were taking me to the hospital.

I refused to go, but my husband insisted he'd take me. We were in a room by 11:30 p.m. After much paper work, monitoring, and a very uncomfortable check of my cervix, I was declared at a "2" and in early labor. I was told it would be awhile and if I wanted I could leave and come back. Exhausted, from not eating all day, I chose to go home and try to sleep.

I dozed off occasionally, only to be awakened 10 minutes later. At 9 the next morning, we had visitors again. I couldn't get out of bed. The excitement I felt with each contraction the day before had been replaced by pain. Gripping pain came every 5 minutes. I found my parents beside my bed. Not having a phone caused undue stress for my family. Did they think I'd give birth and not call from the hospital? Mom said she thought they'd come by and either take me out to breakfast, or see their new grandbaby. Sorry to disappoint. I was going to the hospital.

It was April 5th, 1981. Women in labor were routinely "prepped" for childbirth with shaving and an enema. The shave was for an episiotomy- a big word for a small cut that required several stitches and painful recovery. Labor rooms were more pleasant, but at a most critical time, moms were whisked down the hall to sterile delivery rooms. Husbands were allowed in to the labor rooms, but not anyone else. I had no idea that just outside my door I had a roomful of waiting people.

I was sorely disappointed when I was told I was 4 cm. I wasn't even halfway. The doctor broke my water. I've never understood this. My body created this nice big, pillowy-soft cushion protecting not only the baby, but me. Once removed, the pain became unbearable. Someone appeared and offered Demerol to take the edge off. A ridiculously false statement. My eyes crossed & I couldn't see straight. The edges remained, stabbing like knives. I was miserable. I didn't think I could feel any more exhausted, but thanks to the drug, I did. I declared to all, that I didn't want to do this anymore, I couldn't. The man next to me just laughed and told me there was no going back. I really didn't like him much at that point.

At 2:45, I was complete and told to push. I didn't feel like pushing. I felt like sleeping, but I pushed. I pushed. I pushed. I was actually relieved when the critical moment came and I was wheeled to delivery. I didn't have to push.

Out came the stirrups, up went my legs. I didn't recognize anyone with their matching gowns and face masks, but the room was full of people. I felt a burning sensation, then I felt as if someone was turning me inside out. A moment later a voice proclaimed "It's a girl!" A few more minutes and someone was holding a little bundle over my head, before whisking her away. She was alive and she was real. I was a mom.

Christina arrived at 5:04 p.m. She weighed 5 lbs 6 oz. I wish I'd had pictures, but we didn't own a camera.