The Real Birth Story

I wrote this puppy when Luke was 2 weeks old, with plans to finish it the next day. And now he's 9 weeks old tomorrow. Sheesh. Where does the time go?! Well, with a 2 year old and a 2 month old, I spend most of my day worrying about how much hormones are going into the meat in the United States and writing our congressman about it, working on those pesky cuticles, and doing bar method pilates. Just kidding! In reality, I'm getting pooped on, peed on, leaking breast milk to and fro, and sometimes, letting myself eat raw cookie dough at the kitchen counter while having a good 3 minute cry. Nonetheless, I must share the birth story, even if it is late, so here it is!

Welp, here we are. 2 weeks post-baby, he just had his first bath and a 25 minute breastfeeding session and he's in a deep coma, and I have poured myself my 2nd glass of postpartum wine (it's for my heart. It's very important to get enough drinks to keep your heart healthy). It's time to get real about the birth. Oh that's like a man's nightmare line, isn't it?

I truly loathe being pregnant, so when everyone kept saying to me, oh just wait, you will miss it when it's gone, I would think, ok maybe I will! Maybe I will be one of those women who touches the phantom baby in their belly 3 months after giving birth, longing for another kick. But NOPE. Just as I suspected, I was ready to throw an "I'm not pregnant anymore!" party in my room directly after pushing out my little nugget. And I was enjoying a delicious "I'm not pregnant anymore!" craft beer brought in by my wonderful friend Jessica a mere 24 hours after his birth. In my hospital bed. (For all you haters, I drank it over the course of 2 hours, and beer helps with breastfeeding let down! Booyah!).

I was scheduled to be induced on November 14 at 5 a.m. My husband was scheduled to be on a plane to Buffalo, New York at 1 p.m. that day and I was 39 weeks by one due date, 38 weeks 2 days by another due date. I didn't want to risk him missing the birth so we scheduled the induction. I wasn't thrilled because I like to have a natural labor, no epidural or drugs of any kind, so I wasn't happy about even having the Pitocin drip to induce contractions, but I also didn't want to give birth with the Hubs in New York, so this was our best choice. Here's how it really went down....

5:13 p.m.
Weirdest feeling knowing I'm being induced tomorrow. My first labor, my water broke 3 1/2 weeks early so there wasn't this time to think and know what was coming. This time around, I dropped my little boy Brooks off at my mom's house and drive away bawling like an idiot. Feeling guilty for bringing another child into this world instead of just focusing on him, then feeling crazy because there's that Duggar lady who has like 83 kids so I guess it's ok for me to have a second one. Call my best friend Tara and beg her to tell me I'm normal. She lies and promises I am.

5:56 p.m.
Hmmm. In a weird twist of events I'm home alone (never) and it's just me and the pantry. This is my last night of no-guilt eating. Things are about to get nasty. Cursing my idiot self for not stocking up on a box of macaroni and cheese. And by a box, I mean 3 boxes. Frozen pizza with Dove Chocolate toppings it is!

6:23 p.m.
My husband informs me he will be home earlier than usual, like 8 p.m. I better hurry and make myself sick with food before he gets home. It's much more normal to do this alone. In the dark. In my bed. Watching the Kardashians.

8:12 p.m.
Husband is home. I feel ill. I've probably eaten 3,500 calories in the past hour. I tell him it's contractions. Weirdly, however, I do feel a little bit like I'm having some real ones.

9:45 p.m.
The husband seems oddly happy and that angers me. Oh, you must be happy because you're not having your vagina turned inside out in the morning. Ok makes sense. Oh you've fallen right asleep because you're just going to a little show in the morning? Fabulous. I'm tossing and turning with visions of forceps dancing in my head. Un.Fair.

1:00 a.m.
Wake up. This is the real thing. These hurt. Why did I ever think this was a good idea!? I should have stuck with one kid and tried to make him Superman. If all my energy was just focused on him he might have a shot at turning out normal! My energy will now be divided and the best I can hope for is that one if them is kinda good at spelling and the other one is decent at T-Ball.

1:34 a.m.
I have told my husband it's time to go but now I'm going to shower and blow dry my hair. Last time during birth I looked like a cross between a water monster and Lady Gaga and even the nurses couldn't look me straight in the eye. My husband is up pacing around like a crazy person putting random things in the car. He keeps knocking on the bathroom door while I straighten my hair. Urge to kill him increases but then I will not have a ride to the hospital.

2:05 a.m. En route to hospital and everything Zac is doing is wrong. He is taking wrong way on highway. He is going too slow. He is driving annoyingly. We pull up to hospital and he plans to park. Yes, park and walk in together like we are going shopping at Old Navy for jeans. I tell him if he doesn't drop me off he's not allowed in. He looks excited at the prospect.

2:50 a.m.
I'm checked and dilated to a 7. Really thought I'd waited long enough to just walk in there and push so now I'm mad. And ain't nobody want to see Big Mama Taylor mad. 25 minutes later I tell someone to check me again and I'm ready to go, so a group of nurses huddle to discuss things and I know somethings up. Turns out all the rooms are full and I will be taken into the c-section operating room because Luke is about to fly out of my vajeen. It hurts like the dickens to lay so I force said huddle of nurses to let me walk. Everyone thinks I'm crazy. Finally get to operating room and it's go time baby. I say lots of fun, and funny, things to Zac like "this is our last one, I hate your guts!" and "Can you knock me out still, is it too late?" He will later make joke directly after birth about how when I was doing squats to ease the pain my bare bottom was visible for all to see. Hilarious.

3:45 a.m.
Luke is born! I was so enormous I was positive I was squirting out a 12 lb linebacker. They weigh him and inform he weighs 6 lbs 11 oz. Many people I know have twins this weight. And looked better than me pregnant. I curse my stomach, then look down at it and am frightened. After birth 1 it looked like a waterbed. Now it looks like a waterbed that 3 little boys have been jumping on for 2 hours. How the heck do those Victoria Secret models walk in those shows like 3 weeks post birth?! If I was my husband I would wear eye patches for 3 months!

3:57 a.m.
Have a near disaster when Zac almost accidentally goes below the waist. We all know that nobody is coming back from seeing that disaster. It suddenly seems insanely bright in this room. Get a girl some mood lighting for Heavens sake. Doctor checks things out and informs me I won't need any stitches. I don't like the sound of this at all, not one bit. You're telling me I just pushed out the squirming human being 2 feet away from me and my vajeen is good to go? Like I'm good to just pull on my sweatpants and walk outta here? Blimey.

4:15 a.m.
I must get out of this hospital gown. This is absolutely the worst fabric known to man. I'm somehow roasting hot and freezing at the same time. This fabric is nubby meaning only one thing: This robe has been worn  before. Nurse comes in with breakfast and I eat that breakfast while waiting for the hubby to bring me back another breakfast. Must.Stop.Eating.Like.I'm.Still.Pregnant.

5:12 a.m.
Get another shot to breastfeed precious baby Luke. I forgot how wonderful this is, and by wonderful I mean feels like 27,000 tiny dragons are all gnawing at my ta tas. Over the course of the next 3 days I have no less than 8 nurses tell me I have wonderful breastfeeding boobs. Aaaah, just the compliment every lingerie model dreams to hear! Next stop, Playboy! Husband sheepishly asks me if he can leave so he doesn't miss team practice before they head to Buffalo. He's hunky and I can't resist his charms, so I say yes and remind him to bring the placenta home in its bio hazardous lunch pail. (Don't you worry, another post to come on that later).

When leaving the hospital 2 days later, I see that the woman in the room next to me was a beautiful Chinese lady who is now a size 2 and wearing a gorgeous dress. I am in my sweats which I'm pretty sure have puke on them, and which barely fit over adult diaper. I'd say that my stomach is rolling over the top of my sweats but it's so much  more than a roll. It's like a tidal wave of all the pregnant eating mistakes. Even with my postpartum Kardashian belly band on, I couldn't fit into a mumu, much less the get up she's in. She's in a flowing maxi dress, hair done, beaming with pride at tiny Chinese baby. Her husband glances at mine with pity. Note to self: must find out if she has secretly been here 6 months and re-staging her exit just to make me crazy.