Sunny Days Are Ahead: Reflections on Vomit- Part 6

This captures the emotion of the entire pregnancy
copyright Jan Linda Photography

As I sit here writing this, I can hear the sound of my daughter listening to You Tube videos. She likes to watch videos of toy reviews, craft tutorials, and people playing video games. When I think of my 7 year old girl, going into labor on 6 am on March 14, 2007 seems like a long, long time ago. On the other hand, because the impact of the experience has dissipated very little, it seems like it was just a month or two in the past.

The super nifty birth class explained that most women start with contractions and then the water will break. Nope. My water broke and then the contractions started. Given that the entire pregnancy was fubar (if you don't know what fubar means click here), I shouldn't have been surprised that delivery wasn't going to go to plan either. I was surprised. Our ruined plan was to stay at home until the contractions were 20 minutes apart, then go to the hospital. Having my water break first meant that we just went straight away to the hospital.

Theoretically, I believe that birthing is a natural process and most women are equipped to handle child birth with out significant medical intervention. Had I not had HG, I might have contemplated home birth or some such hippie birthing process. HG removed all birthing options, except delivering in a hospital. We thought that I was strong enough to deliver without a Cesarean section, but that wasn't guaranteed. Many women with HG have to have C-sections, due to being weak and malnourished. I'd had 3 months to regain some strength after the worst of HG, but was by no means strong. I thought I had about 10 hours of natural child birth in me. After that, I was going to be all about medical intervention, theory or not.

Off we went, my boyfriend clad in his Homer Simpson pajamas. I assume I was also wearing pajamas but since they weren't as notable as Homer Simpson, I don't remember! I called my mom on the way to the hospital, because she had to get on a plane and fly from California. I hoped desperately that she would be there in time for the delivery.

My contractions were slow to get going and after about 4 hours, we decided to throw some pitocin into the mix. Then the contractions hit hard. I don't really remember much, except that all the information about handling pain I'd gotten from the super nifty child birth class was total and complete B.S. Total. Complete. Bull. Shit. After about 6 hours of that mess, I had an epidural. Ten hours was truly all that I had in me.

My mom had arrived around the time we decided an epidural was the way to go. I was exhausted and blessedly pain free, so I took a nap. Other family members had arrived and where churning around my room and the waiting room. My dad and 4 younger siblings had driven over from eastern Washington, my boyfriend's parents were there and his sister drove over from a different part of eastern Washington.

I started pushing at 11 p.m. At the beginning of the pushing I vomited for the last time and cried. HG is the gift that just keeps on giving. The remainder of the the time spent pushing involved me saying over and over “I am so done with this. I am so done with this. I am so done with this” as my mom, my boyfriend's mom and my boyfriend surrounded me. I was really, really done with the whole mess and once they told me to push, I was going to push that baby out before the day was done. She was born 22 minutes later.

Aden Elisabeth, born March 14, 2007 at 11:22 pm. 7 pounds, 7 ounces. 21 inches.

Best damn day of my life.

Aden Elisabeth
copyright Jan Linda Photography

Epilogue:

In the end I am truly thankful for my teeth and grateful to my cavities. If not for them, there would have been no nutrition for my baby or for myself. I am also thankful for phenergan and grateful it stopped the vomiting and lessened the nausea. If not for it, I might have died or lost my baby. I am thankful for my boyfriend, now husband, and grateful for his steadfast love. If not for him, I would have been in the hospital. And most of all, I am incredibly thankful that this horrible ordeal resulted in an amazing daughter.