I don’t really remember the pain associated with childbirth. I do know that I was in labour for almost 2 weeks with her. The labour started while I was at a friends house and it cut the visit short, and all the way home I twisted and squeezed the husbands hand whenever a contraction hit. We went to the hospital, only to have my labour slow down to a crawl. I was still getting those contractions, but they were less, or non-progressive, as the doctor called them.
She sent me home.
I lay at home, getting hit by what felt to me like horrible contractions. I couldn’t sleep, I couldn’t do much with Sean, who was only two at the time and really wanted Mommy to take him to the park, every single day.
I made two more trips to the hospital when the contractions got super strong and 5 minutes apart, only to have the slow down once again when we got there. Sigh! Of course we were sent home.
Finally the last time I went to the hospital and discovered that my baby was still fucking with Mommy, I told the doctor that we’d reached my due date and that I’d decided that there was just no way in hell I was going home without a baby in my arms this time. She agreed that this was getting to be a bit much and we decided that I was going to be induced that day.
Hours later I’m hooked up to an epidural and they’ve flooded my system with that wonderful labour inducing drug via IV drip. I didn’t feel the contractions but everyone assured me that they were coming strong and hard.
After a very quick, pain free three hours went by the doctor looked up and handed me my daughter, and it was love at first sight.
Over the years she’s been a constant source of joy, aggravation, frustration and the cause of the happiest times in my life. She’s made me laugh harder than anyone else in this whole world.
I Love Her to Bits,