Mo Schmo

It's two O'clock in the morning and I can't sleep. I feel so uncomfortable, bloated heavy and crowded, it's the kind of crowded feeling that makes it hard to breathe. I'm going to the bathroom every five minutes it seems, and you know, as much as I love being pregnant, I'm ready to have this baby. So in keeping with the karmic forces of the universe, the first contraction right then, gets my attention. Contractions are a sensation that's hard to describe to someone who's never experienced it. It's like a tightness and a squeezing of all your abdominal muscles, tightening untill there's accute pain that radiates from just under the rib cage down to your knees. Adrenaline hits your body at this point and even though your in pain your really high on speed at the same time. I'm sure that's the only thing that keeps you coherent at first.
Well, Morgan is working graveyard shift downtown and the hospital is downtown, so we have the plan all worked out. I call my Dad and Morgan and we meet at St. Joe's. I guess I should also point out at this time that Mason, who is anouncing himself, (right on schedule) is my third child. I know this routine so, I'm calm and relatively relaxed, breathing and focusing. My Father on the other hand is a wreck. He is of course driving very fast and rattling on about something, I'm not really listening. The poor man. We meet Morgan at the entrance to the hospital, I'm plopped into a wheelchair and off we go.
Now, since Mason is my third, for those of you who aren't aware, your body naturally becomes more flexible and accustomed to labor with every delivery, consequently each labor should be shorter and easier on the mother. I should also point out that my first child was only about two hours to delivery from the first contraction to his kicking and screaming entrance onto the stage of life. Mason is here in a grand total of forty-five minutes.
My orderly is calmly walking us through the corridors of the hospital thinking he's probably got all the time in the world. My contractions at this point are comming very close together and the calmness and breathing techniques have been abandoned to a somewhat aggressive demand that I have I.V. drugs NOW. This action gets the imediate attention of the nurse in charge of my delivery. So, here I am out of control of my body, unbearable pressure, intense knife-like pain in my vagina, nausea, and the feeling like I'm going to wet myself. My head is dizzy and it's all I can do to concetrate on what my body is doing, and she says to me,
"Now honey, it's okay, let me just have a look at you." and at this point with all the stealth of a cat burglar her hand is up my gown and it feels as if her whole fist is in my vagina. Quite unpleasant, I assure you. The look on her face is comical.
"Oh my, you're dialated to ten." astonishment and shock have replaced the condascention that was there earlier.
Making eye contact I reply through gasps of air, "No shit Sherlock."
At this point I don't think I'm her favorite patient.
"Well," she says turning to the orderly "lets get her to delivery."
So, writhing in pain, with no drugs they lift me not so gently onto another bed and I'm being wheeled down the hall to the delivery room. It's so hot I have a sudden urge to take off all my clothes, fortunately my husband is there and he forces me to keep them on. (Thanks for that Honey) So, on to yet another table, only this time my butt is practically hanging off of the edge and my feet are being supported above my head in the dreaded stirrups from hell, which by the way, force my knees up by my ears. Yeah.
So, nursie looks at me and really sincerly says, "Are you comfortable?"
I won't tell you what I said to her. Then, right on time, my body is pushing. Now at first this is acompanied by a tremendous relief. The intense, focused, stabbing pain is breifly gone and know you're body is uncontrolably squeezing. That's when the fun part hits. The proverbial bowling ball out your ass feeling. Seriously, something THAT big comming out of something that small. It's surreal, a kind of freak show. Pushing is kind of like diharea cramps that take over your body, you know, when your just sitting there and man it's comming now matter what. Magnify that like a thousand times.
Now, unfortuneately, being in this position and dealing with the incredible pain you can imagine my usual shy, conservative demeanor is no where to be found.
I scream, "it's comming! I have to push!"
To which nursie replies, "Oh, Mrs. H____ you have to wait. The Doctor isn't here." Um, right.
My relply went something like this, (very loudly) "I am NOT waiting!"
I acompanied that with another heafty push, and thankfully my husband and the nurse decided to be on the recieving end of this transaction, otherwise poor little Mason would have been on the floor. Out pops his head, the nurse suctions out the gunk from his nose and he is awake, wide-eyed and looking at everything and so calm, he never even cries. Morgan at this point holds his head and grabs him as the last push releases him from my body, he's covered in goo and Morgan's crying and talking to him and I'm crying and cramping and cold and exhausted. Morgan cuts the cord and takes him to get weighed and tested. I get a quick clean up, my legs come down out of the rafters and I get to say hello to my son.
He's the smallest of my children at only five pounds six ounces and he's little, only eighteen inches long. He has a full head of red irish hair and the biggest roundest eyes that I've ever seen. I am most definately in love.
Mason is thirteen today. My last baby. His voice is changing and he's getting hair, a lot of hair. And when I think about it, I can't very well remember my life without him. I mean I can tell you all about my childhood and my early marriage, but when I relay those memories it's always with the fullness of three children in my heart. His presence in my life is a miracle. That boy, that person you see there was once inside MY body. I felt him, I felt him kick and get hiccups and roll over. I felt every bit of his delivery. I remember like it was yesterday. I never expected to love another person as completely and unconditionaly as I love my children. What an experience, what a ride...

What a Love.


Happy Birthday Baby.