By Andrea Chmelik on July 02, 2013
Considering that there is no miracle more impressive than the one of a new human being entering this world, giving birth can be pretty uneventful.
Thursday morning I took a shower and updated my Facebook status to remind the world that this baby will never come out. Then I dressed Kai and was about to go make us some breakfast when my stomach started feeling funny. At first I decided it was just gas, because as I said, the baby was never coming out. After another 10 minutes I knew. Without a doubt, I knew it was happening.
I told Peter to pack up what he needed for the hospital stay. We drove Kai to his daycare. The contractions were getting more painful and the idea of them getting stronger, longer and closer together made me want to bash my head against the headboard. The biggest difference between Kai's and Fiona's birth was probably my approach to epidural. With Kai I was determined to last as long as I could. With Fiona I was hoping to get it while still in the parking lot.
I announced my interest in epidural as soon as the nurse confirmed they were admitting us. I think my words were: "Just so you know, I will be interested in epidural." And her response was: "Sure." Two hours later I was in probably the worst mood of my life. I tried to think about how each painful wave brought the baby closer. I am pretty sure I read once in People magazine that was what Giselle (or was it Miranda?) did while in labor and how peaceful it made her. It didn't make me peaceful. It made me want to cast balls of fire. Destructive ones. When the nurse came in again I asked: "When do you think I can get that epidural?" To which she cheerfully replied: "Oh, you can get it anytime." I refrained myself from yelling at her: "Then what the fuck are you waiting for and why the fuck is that needle not in my back yet, woman?" I am still considering hiring a mob to sort this out. That just wasn't nice of her.
Once the anesthesia kicked in I was allowed to become my pleasant self again. That stuff is incredible. Suddenly instead of nine circles of hell you are hanging out in bed only missing a vodka martini with a little umbrella in it. Things were progressing nicely. Then I felt something warm. "I think my water just broke", I told Peter. He lifted the blanket to look and said: "Uhm...honey...you are pooping." When you accept the marriage proposal and you imagine all those wonderful romantic moments you are about to share with each other for the rest of your lives, this is most definitely not one of them. What can I say. This is birth. It gets messy.
The final part was easy. I pushed three or four times and Fiona was out. It was as quick as it possibly could. She came out, they plopped her on my belly and my first thought was: "Oh my god, they did it. They just plopped her there. All slimy. Eww..." At least they didn't offer to hand me a mirror to see her coming out or to touch her head when she was crowning this time. Certain things I don't need to know about. (OK, maybe it was not my first thought. But I would lie if I said it did not cross my mind.)
Because Fiona was in a bigger rush to get out than the staff was with giving me antibiotics for the group B strep, we had to stay in the hospital for 48 hours. But now we are home. Mommy, Daddy, Kai and Fiona. She is beautiful. Not in "pretty" kind of way - she is a baby. They are all squished and funny looking. Beautiful as in...beautiful. Kai is a great big brother so far. He suddenly looks huge to me. Life is good. We are a happy family.
For more, visit http://cheerstothesecondtime.blogspot.com/
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