Baby girl

On September 1, 1985 I was dreaming of being back at my childhood home, running through the backyard. It was a nice peaceful dream, a light breeze blowing, dappled sun shining through the leaves on the tree, warming my skin...when I felt like I really had to pee. I startled awake and thought, "did I really do that?! I feel wet!" Actually, my water broke, two weeks early. I called the office, and they calmly told me to wait until I was having contractions. Well, I kept waiting...all day for something to happen. I packed, cleaned, made phone calls, went for a walk, anything to get labor started. I didn't get my first contraction until 12 hours later, around 7 pm. Little bitty contractions, my braxton hicks were worse than these. A few hours later they got a little worse, so I let my husband get some sleep, (on the couch), because I knew I would need him later on when things really got going and I spent the night in the rocker/recliner we bought (because a rocker is a necessity with a baby). By about 5 a.m., the contractions were getting kind of ugly. I woke up sleeping beauty and we trudged to the car. (it's really difficult to walk when your belly is as hard as a rock)
We had done the birthing classes, and I knew
I did not want medication,
I did not want an episiotomy,
I certainly, without a doubt, did not want a C-section,
I did not want a certain Doctor,
and because I work in a hospital, and knew the personality of a certain female intern, I DID NOT want her!
Well, me and Murphy are real close friends, and wouldn't you know it...
I got medication (it was horrible, I felt really woozy and out of control)
I got an episiotomy (what a strange sound it makes when they cut you)
I got the Doctor (it was a holiday weekend and he was "on call")
I got the icky, snotty, cold fingered female intern,
AND I had several other interns in there watching!!!
I found it amazing how hard my belly got during those disgusting contractions. (the things I think about)
I tried to think of pleasant thoughts or places, and to listen to my soothing music, but it really didn't work too well. Everytime they needed to check my progress, they waited until I was having a contraction to check dilation and the icky intern had cold fingers with long nails. So, when they asked me if I wanted something for the pain, I said YES! Unfortunately it turned out to be a bad experience. I didn't like the feeling of that drug at all. I felt like I had no control over myself, and all I wanted to do was sleep. It turns out I react to narcotics like that. I did the deep breathing so well that I hyperventilated. I had to breath into a paper bag, then I got the shakes. My mom was in there at the time, and I guess I scared her half to death. Then all of a sudden I said, "I have to push! Call the nurse." They came, checked me out, paged the Doctor and got me all set up. He got there just in the nick of time. My mom didn't have a chance to leave the room, she just looked at me and asked what she should do. I told her she could stay if she wanted.
The Doctor cut the episiotomy, I pushed 2 or 3 times (yes, that's correct) and out she came. A little pink baby girl, 5 lb. 13.5 oz., 19 in. long with strawberry blond hair.
[I was glad that my mom had the chance to see her firstborn come into the world and oddly enough, I didn't even feel strange for her to be there.]
My husband went with his new daughter to the nursery and gave her a bath, got her feet printed and came back with her all wrapped up and a little hat on her head. She looked exactly like a Smurf.
I had held exactly 1 baby before her. I had never changed a diaper, never given a bath, never gotten one dressed, and it all came so naturally. I guess my maternal instincts took over.
My firstborn, baby girl was born on Labor Day, two weeks early, and absolutely perfect!