Motherhood: May 2005 Archives

At the end of the day Colby hugged us both and proclaimed it as the "best birthday ever!" She spent the day trying on the new fashions I had given her in the morning. She spent hours primping and fixing her hair. She applied her makeup expertly. She took a nap and after had to fix her hair AGAIN! She had been absolved of performing all chores for the day. I know not having to wash dishes was the BEST part of the day. We went out to supper and enjoyed chicken and veal parmegiana, fettuccini alfredo, lasagne, salad, bread, Itialian soda and chocolate torte with raspberry sauce. She loves Italian food as much as I do. We came home and took a ride in Red. We had the ice cream cake Steven made. Ohhhh it was good! He has declared himself the Official Birthday Cake Maker. My two girls refined pallettes have broadened his horizons from round yellow cakes to such concoctions as doll cakes, blueberry cheesecake, rapsberry mousse filled chocolate cake and now the ice cream cake. I think I should hire him out. Colby recieved all the books she had requested (see under the cut at the end), more clothes, and the Yamaha keyboard she had been eyeing for sometime. That thing sounds great! I would swear as she played she was sitting at a grand concert piano! My baby is 18. It is still a surreal feeling. Almost the same as the day she was born -without the pain or the drugs! Not that I would know about drugs. I did the brave thing and went natural. Having gone into labor two weeks prior and having said labor stopped by the doctor because I was soooooooooo sick, I had spent those two weeks with a baby knotted up in my back suffering, I mean SUFFERING with back pain that could bring you to your knees at any given moment! Did I express how I suffered? S-U-F-F-E-R-E-D!!! The evening I went into labor was the end of a day that I woke feeling invincible. I had gone grocery shopping at 6am. I had scrubbed the kitchen and bathroom floor with a little scrub brush. I have no idea why I did so with a little scrub brush. I had cooked meals for the freezer and a million other mundane things. I laid down for a nice long nap and woke with the strangest feeling SOMETHING was going on. Not in pain, just a feeling something was happening. At 10:30pm I went to the bathroom, saw that I had lost the mucus plug and called my momma. Everyone loaded up in the car because you know you can't go to the hospital to have a baby without a full blown enterage! Especially if you live in places like Georgia. On a farm. In the middle of nowhere. I spent the 45 minute ride trying to breath slow and deep but I swear I was delirious. That deep drawing, pulling, stretching sensation of the cervix opening is the absolute most painful feeling I have ever experienced in my entire life. Yeah, Yeah. It was great going in 9 months before but it was hell coming out nine months later! Arriving at the hospital it was declared I was only 2 centimeters dialated. The very large, older black woman who was assigned as my nurse kept telling me how I had a very long 8 hours ahead of me and I could not keep getting up and walking to the bathroom. I really was not having the urge to go pee. Now I ask, how the hell does she know I didn't have to pee? I proved her wrong I did have to pee. Then she told me something I find to be the absolute most ridiculous thing I had ever heard. "If you keep walking around you are going to break your babies neck before it is born." WTF? To this day I firmly believe this woman had had no medical training and her nursing license came out of a cracker jack box. I did the deep breathing exercises to control the pain. I rocked on my hands and knees in the most embarrassing position and then I told the nurse I had to push. AGAIN this woman told me I did not have to push I had "at least eight hours of hard labor ahead of me." I gritted my teeth, looked at her with a glare in my pain contorted features and I know my voice became that of a demon from hell, "Get me the doctor or another nurse NOW!!" She hesitated for less than a second and went off to meet my demands. The head nursing supervisor of labor and delivery was quick at my bedside and I told her, "I HAVE TO PUSH!" Grabbing a pair of gloves she quickly checked me, her eyes grew huge and she said, "Do not push!" She turned and called the large nurse and said, "She is at 10!" Yayyyyyyyy me! I had gone from 2 to 10 in 15 minutes! Before I could pointedly scream at the older nurse that I indeed did NOT have at least eight hours of hard labor ahead of me I was being pushed out the door and down the hall to delivery. Everything was happening so quickly! There wasn't time for my doctor to get to the hospital. If the doctor you have paid to deliver your baby does not arrive for the delivery and you have to be delivered by the doctor on staff doesn't that stand to reason he should not be paid for the delivery part of the OB care? In the delivery room, bright lights galore, nurses and interns watching, my legs in the stirrups exposing everything I own to God and the world I pushed. Once. Twice. Three times. And it was over. At 12:25am, Monday, May 18, 1987 I delivered a 7lbs 1/2oz 21 1/2 inch baby girl -who was meconium stained. Throughout my entire pregnancy this had been my worst fear. It was like a premonition of some sort. Thankfully for us she was born quickly and suctioned well and none of the meconium had been inhaled with her first breath. Later, doing research I discovered the medication I had been given two weeks before to stop my labor could have caused this. It also could have caused me to have a stroke and the baby to have a heartattack! WTF?!? Although it was the 1980's I still feel like my pregnancy had been in the 1940's. Who in their right mind would give a woman medications that could potentially killer her and her baby? To this day it still makes me angry but also grateful someone in heaven had been watching over us both. Having delivered so quickly there was no time for my body to stretch and I ended up holding my baby while two sets of sutures were used to embroider my nether regions back together. I held this wonderful being, wrinkled, covered in vernix with peeling skin, unwrapped the blanket so I could count her fingers and toes. "Oh look it is her birthday and she has left me a present." She was covered in poop from her waist to her toes. She could not be bothered to wait until she had been washed and diapered to take her first poop. 36 hours after her birth I was at home, sitting in a rocking chair, crying and nursing a brand new baby. I was so ready to come home and start being a most excellent mother. Instead I was a nervous wreck, having a crying jag while a little tiny baby was latched on to my nipple and the blisteres were already beginning to form. 18 years later I am still learning how to take care of this beautiful creature who graced my presence. The list of books Colby requested for her birthday are under the cut below.