Why epidural, why?
A few weeks ago, someone asked me why I wouldn’t want to do a natural child birth because I’m so crunchy.
Don’t think I haven’t considered it.
But now? I can say with 100% certainty, epidurals are where it’s at, for me.
Because my epidural failed me in the final hour of labor and delivery. Well, except for my right leg. All the meds went to my right leg. So when I’d push the PCA button to give me relief, my right leg went more and more numb, but I felt everything everywhere else.
What did it feel like?
Well, I wanted to take my bottom lip and pull it up over my head and swallow.
It literally brought me to tears right before it came time to push.
I remember it completely, the nurse looking at me saying, “Why the tears?”
I answered softly, “It hurts.”
It was a mixture of feelings, to be honest. It hurt, a lot, yes, but it was also the emotion that comes right before you push. Especially to your last kid that you never, in a million years, ever thought you’d get to see.
I think I may have squeezed Matt’s hand off at one point and when I felt bad for his hands, I went after the bedrails. And of course, everyone is telling me to breathe, but the last thing I want to do is breathe. I want to hold my breath and pass out. Pass out and wake up with a baby in my arms.
BUT, I did find out how much of a pain tolerance I have. It’s pretty decent, honestly. I didn’t punch Matt.
Weeks before Audrey was born I still couldn’t believe it that I was going to have a baby. It was still that unreal. It’s amazing what the mind can do. I never fully believed that something wouldn’t happen to keep me from meeting her.
So, as I was laying there in the hospital bed, with a (mostly) failed epidural, and having the most anxious feeling that something was going to go wrong, I cried.
Now’s where I can begin to go on about how the next 15 minutes of prepping for and then subsequently pushing Audrey out into the world was the most painful experience I have ever felt in my entire life, however, I’m just going to let your imagination go on to tell the story.
When I was pushing, however, I thought I was yelling and screaming, but it turns out, that was all in my head. Literally. I apologized to the nurse later for being so loud, but she said, “Um, hun. All you said was, ‘Ow, ow, ow, ow…’ very softly.”
So I guess I saved all the nice swears for my brain.
It seriously *%$&ing hurt.
But it’s a distant memory, now. Audrey is here, I’m pain free, and the only thing I have left over is a stupid epidural headache. Because, you know, nothing can be simple. So, I get an epidural, it fails me, and now I’m left with a lingering headache that I get every day, and sometimes if I’m lucky, at 3 AM.
My neighbor, who is a nurse anethstatist has given me sound advice of how to combat the headaches, so it’s just a matter now of them going away. So, go away headaches!
It’s worth it, though. Because Audrey is perfect and she’s here, and she’s real. And I got to finally see her perfectly beautiful face and I don’t have to worry about never getting to meet her now.
I can’t even explain how much I love her.
(Matt’s not really sleeping. It’s just Mae’s game of making everyone go to sleep. She enjoys making all her stuffed animals go to sleep by taking blankets and pillows and virtually suffocating them. She’s not allowed to be alone with Audrey for the record.)