Sometimes women get morning sickness when they’re pregnant. You know, nauseous in the morning, have to take it slow, eat a few crackers and get on with their day. They’ll throw up once in a while, but overall are able to continue on with their regular routine. Then there are folks ME. You know, if there’s going to be a “well, it happens sometimes,” I’m going to be the “sometimes.” It’s just my luck. I had “sometimes” in one way or another with all three of my pregnancies and deliveries, but pregnancy #1 takes the prize.
It all started out with such promise. All hubby and I had to do was blink at each other and “poof” I was pregnant. Easy peasy, first month we tried. Until one morning very early on I woke up and felt like someone had whacked me in the head, dizzy as hell. Then I tried to get up and was so nauseous I couldn’t stand up straight. I kid you not, that feeling didn’t go away for TWO MONTHS. That’s right. Not just in the morning either – my “morning” sickness lasted ALL DAY and ALL NIGHT – the only break I had was when I managed to sleep. It’s a good thing I wasn’t working at the time because I barely left the couch for TWO MONTHS. It happens sometimes.
I tried anything to feel better. Any little piece of advice, even if it was an old wives’ tale I tried it, cause I was that desperate. Nothing worked. My husband started to lose patience. He was a little “iffy” on the whole pregnancy thing to begin with – we both though it would take a while and that the trying would be fun. Instead I got pregnant right away and I was reduced to this whiny needy blob. He was beginning to resent the life we had made for what it was doing to me, and truth be told so was I. It was so bad people at church were sending me flowers. Two months this went on till slowly, ever SO slowly, I started to feel better. Not great, but I least I could walk upright. All told, I lost almost 10 pounds my first trimester.
The second and third trimesters were a breeze comparatively. I could actually function. I wasn’t serving in a church at the time, but I could supply preach (filling in for pastors on vacation), and it felt good to put on my professional hat again, even if it was just for Sunday mornings. It was neat to feel the baby kick and move around, and I could finally relax a little and let the whole pregnancy and motherhood thing sink in and even feel happy. Thank goodness my husband and I had that time to bond with the baby.
When time came to prepare for the birth I had a decision to make. Drugs or no drugs. I have no problem taking drugs for pain. A headache? Where’s the Tylenol? I’m all for it. Now the most common form of pain relief in labor is an epidural. Except I was really scared of having a needle in my SPINE, so I opted instead for a narcotic. BIG mistake. Instead of taking the edge off my pain, I went on a bad trip. You read that right – a bad trip. Did you know that happens sometimes? I couldn’t form a coherent sentence. The room was moving on me. I couldn’t coordinate my body movements. By the time the drug wore off I begged for that needle in my spine, but it was too late.
Then “sometimes” happened again. The baby (we didn’t know the gender) got stuck. You know, it happens sometimes. I pushed and pushed and pushed and pushed and that little critter was just “hung up” and NOT moving. They put me in all kinds of positions hoping the baby would shift and finish the journey out (SO much fun when you’re in hard labor to be moving around like a gymnast while trying to shake off a bad drug trip) but no luck. Finally the doctor intervened because sometimes they have to. He had to use a vacuum (I can’t believe that’s what they call that thing, but the description fits). The pressure was enormous and frightening, but then I felt a POP, and she practically flew out! It was a girl! Hurray! Except I was really too tired to care, as long as she was healthy, and we did have a little moment when we were worried. There was meconium because, you know, it happens sometimes, so the on call pediatrician had to check her over, but she was fine. Thank God.
And me? You know that tremendous POP I felt when she finally came out? Did you know that sometimes a woman can actually break her tailbone giving birth? Yeah. My daughter did that to me. Recovering from that, plus trying to care for a newborn, was NOT fun. It’s a miracle I agreed to have more children, it really is. That, or as one friend said, insanity…