El Naturale

I trudged through 4 more hours of contractions that seemed never ending, one on top of the next, totally focused on not getting an epidural, and doing pretty dang good if I say so myself. Chapman came back in around 10:00 PM. This time, I knew there was no way these contractions could have done nothing, because they were breath taking, soul wrenching, son-of-a-guns.

I was still a 3.

I lost it. It suddenly became very clear to me that I was going to be here for a heck of a lot longer, stuck in this same position, sitting on my stupid bed, enduring contraction after contraction, and it wasn't going to get any easier. A matter of fact, it was only getting later and later. I would need my energy to push... Once I was a four with J, it still took nearly 10 hours to get to a ten. Then I had to push for two hours. I did the math really quick in my head, and realized there would be no way to labor through the night at this rate, and be clear headed enough for the long haul.

Around 11:00 PM I asked for an epidural. Chris reminded me that I didn't want to get one. I told him before that if I asked for one, I would have to wait an hour before I would actually get one, to see if I could progress just that much... When he mentioned all the things I made him promise me he would at this point, I may or may not (may...) have sworn at him, and explained how much pain I was really in, and that I had waited my fair share of hours.

So, in came the anesthesiologist, who wasn't really an anesthesiologist, but one of those nurse-whatever-wanna-be ones. He was a total jerk, otherwise I wouldn't demean his profession. Serves him right. The first thing out his mouth was, "Oh, so you gave up! You decided you couldn't do it, eh?" I wanted to kill him. Truthfully. My new-found-mortal-enemy took his sweet time explaining to me everything, even after asking if I had already had an epidural before. He was enjoying my pain far more than any person should.

An hour (not exaggerating. I wish I was!!) passed by before he actually got to the point where you insert the stupid needle into my back. It's now midnight. He proudly walks around to the front of me, and explains it should start working soon. He left the room. I secretly wished he would die in the hall before I ever had to see him again. Truthfully. My epidural with J started working INSTANTLY. So... I waited.

And waited.

And waited.

Half way up my legs went numb, and I got excited, anticipating that same numbness to wash away the pain of each contractions. Fifteen minutes passed, and Mr. Jerk fake-doctor-man was back into the room, asking if it was working. "Nope."

Fifteen more minutes passed.

Still not working.

He stood there, fiddling with things for the next half hour, telling me to lay on this side, or that, or do this, or do that, dumb founded that tears were still streaming down my face during each contraction (still on top of each other). I was actually very calm, because I was some what hopeful of this impending pain coming to an end... eventually. As much as I hated this person I had not known existed an hour earlier, I actually had faith that he knew what he was doing.

He kept poking me between the peaks of the contractions with this sharp needle he was holding. "Can you feel this? Are you sure? What about here? Here? Are you sure?" I couldn't believe he kept asking, "are you sure..." when every person in the room could obviously, clearly, see I was in a lot of pain still.

An hour after the first epidural he had me sit back up, hold still, and did the whole epidural again.

Then, all the theatrics started again, with the poking, tears, disbelief, laying here, laying there, etc. Nothing helped. I was numb half way up my thighs, and that was it. The pain in my hips during each contraction was unbearable.

My heart rate started to sky rocket. They were worried I was going into cardiac arrest: Same pattern as my first labor. Hugh's heart rate was dropping after each contraction: they informed me this is a sign the cord is wrapped around the neck. Quickly the explained we needed to prepare for an emergency c-section, and they were calling Chapman immediately. They decided to check me, since the fake-anesthesiologist was having a major blow to his self esteem--- because he had "NEVER" had something like this happen. Ya, well serves ya right for being such a jerk.

Oh. I was a 10.

I went from a 3 to a 10 in an hour. No wonder my hips felt like they were ripping a part. No wonder why the epidural was a total waste. Apparently when you go that fast, it's impossible for the epidural to catch up with you. A couple nurses came in, and they were running around like frantic little bees, getting everything set up for a delivery after all. It was a little chaotic, and I started bawling...

I could not believe it. I was a 10. Really? So fast? It's only been 16 hours... Really? This baby is coming?? I did it? That was it...?? They adjusted the bed so everything was good to go, and I could actually see Hugh's head. It was incredible. Not anything like before. The nurse asked if I wanted to "practice pushing" before Chapman got there. Of course, I said, "SURE!" I started to push, and almost instantly she started laughing, and said, "Ok, wait stop!! You can't push anymore! Wait until Chapman gets here..."

Almost a second later in walked Chapman. "No way! I can't believe you are ready to have this baby!!" Ya, no kidding, is all I could think. I was bawling. She asked, "Are you OK? Are you crying because you are in so much pain?" I laughed and said, "No, I just can't believe this." I thought everything was going to be a lot longer, and this intense pain I had been having since my water broke, was going to continue on all night.

But it wasn't.

It was really coming to an end.

I had one more contraction, and pushed, and out he came. That was it. Two minutes of pushing, maybe. That was it. Again, I could not believe it. I was totally awake, and aware of what was going on. And I was totally coherent. I wasn't crying with pain, but simply dumb founded about how the change of the current events was unfolding. I don't even remember the last 10 hours of my labor with J--- I had very seriously checked out mentally. It was so sweet to be able to experience, and almost enjoy, pushing out Hugh, and being alert and aware of what was going on the moment he entered the world. Everything was so clear.

My perfect little Hugh was placed into my arms around 2:00 AM. And we have been in love ever since.