I have a few very close friends that are pregnant right now. They are all actually due very soon; one in a few weeks, one in a month and another at the end of the Summer. I’m totally envious of them — not like jealous envious — just excited and overwhelmed for them and what they’re about to experience. I loved being pregnant. I know it’s hard for some people to believe, but despite the fact that I’m a foul mouthed, relatively too-cool-to-be-emotional kind of girl, I was completely in awe of the fact that a baby was growing inside of my body. I was a full blown Gaylord when it came to my pregnancy. I even made myself sick.

In addition to being a total sap, I coincidentally became a raging bitch. I blame the hormones. I mean my progesterone levels were tripling (or something like that) on a daily basis. My body was boiling over with estrogen, oestrogen, beta Human Chorionic Gonadotropin (it’s real, google it!) and lord knows what else. So yeah — anyone that crossed my path, felt the heat on their neck. And I’m sure in one way or another, they deserved it.

It actually became a joke amongst my friends. They enjoyed how crazy and obnoxious I had become. My girlfriend? Not so much — but the rest of the people I knew got a real kick out of it. They used to do stupid shit intentionally just to set me off. And I was happy to deliver. I never went back to the way I was before — and for that I am grateful. My girlfriend? Not so much. 

In the beginning, I had a mild case of all-day-sickness, but it ended around my 11th week so I was pretty lucky on that front. Anyone who calls it morning sickness has clearly never been pregnant. You’re sick all fucking day, not just in the morning. At any given moment, you could easily puke all over the place , or at the very least dry-heave and make everyone around you gag — and then within the blink of an eye, you feel fine. It’s pretty disturbing to be honest. Nothing makes it go away and anyone who says they have the perfect remedy for it is flat out lying to your face. You should actually smack them for lying to a pregnant woman. That’s just wrong. And what’s awesome is that no matter what, you’re pregnant — which means you were right, they were wrong and whatever physical harm has come to them was deserved and dispensed with justice.

I was a week late when my OB finally decided it was time to admit me to the hospital and induce my labor. I went into the hospital on a Saturday morning and didn’t deliver until 1:20am Monday morning. My induction was routine. I was lucky and didn’t have any problems other than the fact that I was progressing slowly — very slowly. But not so slow that a C-Section was ever even mentioned. We just sat back and waited for my body to do its job. And then we waited some more…and some more. A lot of hospitals play music every time a baby is born. It’s usually a really sweet instrumental melody. All the Grandparents, family members and friends in the waiting room get all excited thinking that it just might be their baby that was just born. All I can say is my poor parents!

At my hospital they played “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star,” every time a baby was born. The first 2 or 3 times it was sweet. But 36 hours later and about 12 fucking times of hearing that song and I was done. DONE!

By Sunday afternoon my water broke and I was officially in labor. The next 12 hours flew by. I experienced about two or three full blown contractions before screaming for an epidural. My girlfriend ran out into the hallway and screamed to the nurses that I needed the epidural STAT. I was lucky. My girlfriend is insanely loud and insistent and an Anesthesiologist was actually on the floor. He had just administered an epidural to a woman a few doors down — some bitch that came in an hour ago and was already 5 centimeters dilated and progressing insanely fast. I can’t even count the number of women that were admitted after me and delivered before me. Two days of this shit and I was literally ready to give myself a C-Section. All I kept thinking was get this baby out of me. I can not take another minute.

My epidural was painless — at least that’s how I remember it. I don’t remember feeling a thing to be honest. I know some women have horror stories about them, but again I was lucky. I was out of pain. The TV was on in the background, but nothing could distract us from watching the monitors that registered my contractions as they went up and down and off the screen. This meant that despite the fact that I felt nothing, I was contracting rapidly and they were off the charts. All I can say is God bless the epidural.

Finally, around midnight the nurse came in, gave me my umpteenth internal exam and said I was fully dilated and ready to push. I was in a labor and delivery room. I’m not sure if you’re familiar with these rooms but when you first arrive it’s just a big beautiful room with a bed, a chair and the monitors they hook you up to where you, yes — labor. But when you’re fully dilated and ready to deliver, they hit the Defcon 1 button and the whole fucking room transforms into what could easily be mistaken for an operating room. Lights and shit start coming down from the ceiling, about 52 pieces of additional equipment are pulled out of the walls like those hideaway beds people have in studio apartments. I have never seen anything like it. It was like a scene out of Star Trek, not that I watch that gay show — but you get my point. It was game on.

I pushed for an hour and twenty minutes… and then at 1:21 AM on June 26th, 2006 the sound of my daughters cry pierced through the screaming encouragement from my OB, the nurses, my Girlfriend — all I could hear was this tiny cry. It was the most beautiful sound I have ever heard. 

It’s a girl.

With her umbilical cord still attached they placed her on my chest and she stopped crying. I touched her tiny little fingers (even though they were still covered in that gross white stuff) and I just stared at her. Her eyes were wide open and she looked right at me. I had gone deaf. There was total commotion in the room but I heard absolutely nothing. The world stopped spinning and the memories of the past 2 days were erased from my mind. It was as though I had forgotten that at the end of what I was going through, I was going to be holding my baby. I had been so focused on getting her out that I never stopped for one moment to think about the fact that in just a short time I would actually be holding this beautiful little baby covered in placenta and all sorts of nastiness. My heart stopped. I was instantly and irrevocably in love.  

Life has never been the same… and it never will be. For that I am eternally grateful. My Girlfriend? Oh yeah. You bet your ass.

Going Parental appears when it can, OK? Technically it’s supposed to appear on Thursdays but shit happens. And labor, while it may appear to be endless and unbelievably impossible, is the gateway to meeting the love of your life. And from that moment on — you slowly begin to Go Parental. Enjoy every minute… and welcome aboard.

All my love goes out to my girls who are on the brink of this moment. I can not wait to meet the person that will immediately become more important to you than your husbands and girlfriends. 

 

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