So, this is the last day of Nablopomo.

I DID IT.

This isn’t the first year I attempted posting everyday during the month of November, but the last time I completed 30 days of writing, I was pregnant with Hola and had plenty of material to share.

This year? Not so much. BUT, I did ask at the beginning of the month if there was anything anyone wanted me to write about. I believe I got one comment with a question. Joanna asked about Rt’s birth story, since I had already shared Hola’s while it actually happened (for the most part, not really.)

So, on that note, here’s Rt’s coming-into-the-world story.

On the eve of my due date, the first episode of Sex in the City began on TBS. I knew the really good parts were deleted or dubbed, but it kept me sane during the most unsure and overwhelming moments of my life. The contractions started slightly, but were right on schedule. I kept this tidbit of information to myself throughout the first episode. 30 minutes of a wee bit of pain every 3-5 minutes lasting 30-45 seconds. Once the first episode came and went, I let hubs in on the current happenings. We watched another episode while keeping time and the tightness came and went right on cue. It was time to call the doc and head in…..

We arrived at the hospital sometime in the 10p.m hour. We were taken up to labor & delivery and was hooked up to the monitors to see if I was progressing. After a few hours of waiting-to-see-what-will-happen, we were told nothing really was happening. So, we were given a choice. We could stay there and they could get me started on pitocin to move along my contractions or we could go home and let this thing happen as natural as possible.

We opted for au natural and headed for the car. This was back in the day when Daylight Savings Time was still in early April. They had not changed the clock in the hospital rooms yet, so we thought it was 2am when we got in the car. Nope. It was 3am. Well, there goes getting a good night’s rest prior to having a baby.

We got home and the contractions were still killing me, and since I was having what was later to be diagnosed as “Back labor”, my back was being put through the ringer and then some. A hot shower sounded like the only thing that would provide any sort of relief.

Well, the shower was nice and all, but no real change in the pain department. So, I got into bed around 4am and passed out rather quickly, somehow, someway. 10 minutes later I was awakened by a POP sound coming from down below. Yep, my water broke. (Glad I got that nap in.) Hubs asked if he could jump in the shower REAL quick while I stood there DOUBLED OVER IN PAIN. I said yes, cause I thought I could handle the situation. Ya, RIGHT!

Luckily, sheer fear is what got us to the hospital so quickly. That and it was 4am in the morning. Nobody was on the roads in LA at that time of night. (Oh, did I mention we were living in LA when Rt was born? Oh, sorry.) So, once we got to the ER, they put me in a wheelchair and wheeled me back up to the L & D floor. This time, by just looking at me, they admitted me to my room. No monitoring needed. Must have had that certain look on my face that meant business.

Ok, so by this time it’s 5a.m. I believe I was 4cm? I immediately requested an epidural since the nurse told me no kind of medication would save me from back labor, only the epidural would be the answer. On that note, I signed on the dotted line. Once we got that taken care of, I was a 6. Then, by 11am I was already a 10. But, because Rt’s heart rate had a hard time recovering from each contraction, the nurse had me practice pushing for about an hour. We would push a little every 3rd contraction or so to see if we could get him to move further along without much stress on him. At one point, she prepped me for a c-section, just in case we couldn’t get him out when we needed to. (That hour was one of the scariest ones of our lives. Hoping that heart rate would recover every 3 to 5 minutes was such torture.)

By 12:45pm, the nurse called the doctor, who was in her office a block away, and told her she needed to get there. The doctor said she could be there in 15 minutes, but the nurse said, “No, NOW.” Um, ya. Talk about scaring the living shit out of us, hearing that REALLY took the cake. (oh, did I mention we didn’t know Rt was a boy or girl? Ya, we didn’t know. Sorry. ) (Oh, and one more thing, every time I had a contraction, I pooped on the table.)

Yep, I said it.

It was awful, terrible, and not so bad all in the same breath. Hell, how would I know? I had to wear an oxygen mask, I couldn’t smell much of anything. (Cringe, shutter, cringe, cringe.)

Moving on.

When the doctor came in the room at 1p.m., she said, “oh good, looks like she’s ready.” (she said this while she saw a small turd on the table. YES, I KNOW. I DIED RIGHT THEN AND THERE. No, actually I thought, honey, we’ve been doing this all morning. This shit don’t mean ANYTHING.)

So, 3 pushes and a vacuum for his big ‘ol head later, our bouncing baby BOY was born at 1:20p.m.

The end.

The beginning.

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