The birth of Pudding Pie

Pudding Pie arrives. Note the dugs being administered to mom,

(bottom right).

Over at Momdot.com, they're asking for the story of your delivery as part of a contest they're holding. I could write pages on the biggest event of my life, but I won't subject to you that. So, as briefly as I can, here's the story of the delivery of Pudding Pie.

I worked a full day at work the day I went into labor, but my back ached all day and I could not get comfortable. Labor did not cross my mind, I was still almost two weeks from my due date so it couldn't be happening. I drove my hour commute home that evening and I couldn't get comfortable the whole trip, it was awful.

Once home, the contractions stepped up and the pain started to come and go at quite regular intervals. (Yes, this is when it dawned on me that labor was officially in progress.) And once I knew it was labor, the contractions seemed to get stronger and closer together . . . I think if I'd stayed in denial I may have last much longer without an epidural! After a few calls to my OB, she decided the contractions were close enough, and we sped off to the hospital.

This is the part where you get to see what a tough cookie I am. The minute we walked into Labor and Delivery, I started begging for an epidural; the nurses were getting me signed in and hooked up and I just kept urging them to stick that needle in. So much for working through the pain.

I got my epidural and sweet relief came quickly - but lasted briefly. As soon as the epidural began to work and I lost feeling in the contraction-wracked part of my body, I began to feel claustraphobic. I didn't factor in the whole helplessly-numb-from-the-waist-down feeling and just I hated it. I felt like a beached whale, I was convinced I was lying with my head hanging backwards - I wasn't. Someone shooed everyone out, turned off the light and tried closing the door - to give me some rest. I had a fit; I wanted the lights on, the doors open and people surrounding me and I most certainly did not want to be alone. It was the worst feeling of claustraphobia I've ever experienced. I think the nurses had a party when I left because I was a handful. Giving birth took a back seat to this completely irrational, but overwhelming fear.

Just to add a little fun, my body decided it didn't like the epidural and my blood pressure kept dropping. Not to be left out, my soon-to-be-born daughter decided she didn't like labor, andher heart rate dropped lower with every contraction. Quite the carnival atmosphere!

Then, swooping in to save the day, came Wonder Woman - I mean my OB GYN. She calmly said that it seemed being born wasn't my daughter 'favorite thing to do' and she recommended a c-section. She didn't add that giving birth was clearly not my strength either, but she could have.

So I was wheeled into surgery, my daughter was quickly yanked out and I got to meet her for a few seconds. Then, at my request, I drifted into sweet oblivion with the help of some wonderful drugs, while my OB GYN finished surgery. I'm probably not the most stoic individual you'll ever meet . . .