Oh...Right. Someone actually has to get this baby OUT.

I'm far too lazy to go through the archives to see whether I ever mentioned anything about Donovan's birth, so if I'm retelling the story, my apologies.

Donovan showed absolutely ZERO indication of exiting my uterus anytime before Independence Day, 2004. He was due July 1st, 2003, incidentally. Nor did my doctors seem to be in any particular hurry to evict him. It wasn't until an appointment, a full 14 days past my due date, where I refused to leave an office without a scheduled induction date, did anything fall into place. I entered the hospital shortly after midnight on July 17th, was given a dose of Cytotec, and left to wait.

Around 3:30am, I finally started having contractions. They were extremely mild, but measurable. Around 7:30am, I told my Aunt Kate that this labor business was really not too bad. At 8:00am, they started the Pitocin. By 8:30, I was screaming my ever-loving lungs out. 10:30am, a futile dose of Stadol. By 11:30, I had sufficiently worn down the patience of my two labor nurses enough that they fudged my dialation to get an anesthesiologist up there and get me an epidural. They told him I was 6 centimeters dialated. In truth, I was barely 4, but I imagine that a 16 year old girl screaming herself hoarse for 3 hours straight might compel someone to stretch some numbers.

Donovan was born at 5:29pm on the 17th after 14 hours of contractions and 23 minutes of pushing. There were no complications until AFTER his delivery, when my uterus was declared "boggy." It was a shift change, so the doctor that attended the birth was in the room, about to be relieved by the doctor coming on. After 45 minutes of blood loss so severe that it looked like transfusions might be necessary, Doctor #2 said, rather nonchalantly I'm told, "Take her to OR and get it out." "IT" being my uterus. He was recommending a full hysterectomy for a 16 year old girl. Doctor #1 was having no part of that, and sat literally elbow deep in my vagina, massaging my uterus for the next 30 minutes until the bleeding finally stopped. Obviously, a hysterectomy was not performed that day.

I was told in the office later that this complication may make me a more likely candidate for a scheduled C-Section later on. Apparently, I took this to heart.

When I started seeing the doctor this time around, I told them my history with childbirth and thought nothing of it. Some delusional mechanism engaged in my brain and I convinced myself that OF COURSE they were going to schedule a C-Section. OF COURSE THEY WERE. So I went my merry way for about 25 weeks, assuming they'd bring it up as we got closer to D-Day. But no one did. And, by the tone of their conversations, they seemed to be under some misguided notion that I was going to LABOR to have this child. What, seriously?

At my 30 week appt, I came right out and asked, and it was confirmed that YES, I AM GOING TO HAVE TO LABOR. So. Wow. Ok. I actually did not see that coming.

So the past several weeks I've been reconciling my brain with that fact, and I am surprisingly calm about the whole thing. I am actually hoping that this all happens on its own and I can labor at home for a few hours before a nice, leisurely drive to the hospital. I am hoping that, if no induction, and no Pitocin is necessary this time around, I might have a bit of an easier time with it than last time. Between the supposed difference in contractions manufactured by Pit and the shortening of labors in each subsequent birth, I might be in for an entirely different experience this time around. And truth be told, the first time wasn't really THAT bad.

I say that, of course, with a degree of the amnesia that comes with having given birth, but also with the comforting knowledge of remembering that no matter how bad it really is, when it's all said and done and over, that amnesia kicks in FAST, and it never seems as bad in retrospect.

I am, however, a little apprehensive about my husband's role in this whole thing. I seem to be shockingly unable to find a way to prepare him for what this might be like, and my greatest fear regarding this birth is that he'll be the kind of guy who rolls his eyes in the delivery room, making it clear that he thinks you are totally exaggerating this whole thing. Any advice for prepping the dad-to-be?

Comments

[Cherish]

I had a horrible first labor too, not as bad as yours mind you, but bad all the same. I was 18. Ive gone through four now and they have definately gotten better each time. I have to say that the difference of the pitocin is unbelievable! If there is any way around it, then do not get it!! I would say the difference for me was either being able to handle it and keep my sanity without or going completely crazy and hysterical with. Good luck!

[Nik]

Sounds easy. Your gift for hyperbolic description is unparalleled. My advice for the dad is tell her that it's easy.