the beginning of Misty Man
Sorry there is no food involved in this post – I’ve been meaning to write Misty’s birth story for 12 months, so his birthday was motivation enough to complete it. Sorry to all those who are squeamish/not interested… this is all about me and Misty and that’s all that matters.
It all started with an eggplant.
Well, kind of.
I had got to the end of the list of ‘natural methods of induction’ - you know the ones – eating spicy food, walking, driving down a bumpy road, eating pineapple, certain yoga poses, and so on, when I discovered that apparently eggplant parmigana was one of the “sworn by” tricks to get baby moving. I like eggplant anyway, so decided to give it a crack.
Oregano and basil are the key ingredients (supposedly) which will encourage bubs to get a wriggle on.
Anway, Viper and myself were sitting down to our baby-inducing Italian meal when we received word that our Sister-in-Law, Netsky was going to be induced. Randomly we were both due around the same date – both first time baby ovens. We knew we were having a little boy, Netsky and D-Max however were awaiting a surprise.
We decided to light a candle for Netsky and our little niece or nephew who would soon enter this crazy world. A glass of wine was also called for (my midwife said a wine might relax me enough to go into labour, hey, I wasn’t going to argue with that!) So we toasted the impending birth(s), ate our eggplant and went to bed.
2am. Ouch. Go back to sleep, probably just a cramp.
20 minutes later. Ouch. Hey, there goes another one.
I lay there wondering if this was it. I had had the odd niggle for the previous few days, but nothing consistent. These tweaks were beginning to form a pattern.
4am. Up around the house, pacing – bracing myself against each wave. Such a bizzare pain, contractions cannot be explained to someone who has not experienced one. Closest I can get to a description is a really bad cramp that starts in your back, wraps around your front, tightening and squeezing, reaching a peak and then ebbing away gradually. My midwife liked to call them ‘waves.’ Suppose that sounds nicer than a ’holy gosh golly gee that really really hurts like a mumma F*&^in vice squeezing my lady bits.’
4:45am. Wake up Viper. Tell him he’s is not going to work today. We are having a baby.
Put on dressing gown with big hood, drape it over my head and make a big pot of raspberry leaf tea. Try to sip away at it, everything (including water) makes me want to yak. Viper doesn’t know what to do, so he does the only thing he knows – puts on records. He makes some outstanding choices that just fit the mood perfectly.
I sit on the couch, watch the sunrise over the deck and listen to Tracey Chapman’s album of the same name. I hadn’t listened to it in years, neither had Viper – he had no idea why he put it on, but it was amazing. I can’t listen to ‘Fast Car,’ without crying now – just hearing it brings back the emotions of the day like a ‘wave’ dumping down on my head. Love it how music is such a sensory experience like that.
For the next few hours, I paced, braced and peed. Every time I had a contraction, I needed to pee after it. The midwife said the baby pushing down on my bladder (felt more like he was stomping on it). Boosty followed me around and around the house as I paced, and bewteen contractions I literally spaced, lay on the bed and zombied out. It was pretty surreal.
So many phone conversations with the nurses at the hospital. Wait 2 more hours, then come in. It was already 12pm, I felt like I had been going for days. 2 more hours? You’ve got to be kidding. Take a Panadol, they would tell me. Panadaol? You’ve got to be kidding. I’ll give you a Panadol. Viper decided to go to the pharmacy and get some anyway (I think he just needed to feel like he was doing something to help). While he was gone, I noticed I was bleeding, and that was it. As soon as Viper returned, I said, ‘We are going to the hospital. Don’t argue with a contracting woman.’
Let me tell you, having a contraction in the car, sitting down at a red light is not fun. Although we only live about an 8 minute drive from the hospital, it was the longest 8 minutes of my life. Not good, not good. Viper dropped me off at the door to the hospital, and peeled off to get a park. The labour ward was on the 3rd floor, so I had to take the elevator, which was crammed full. And I was having a contraction. Pretty funny to think about it now; at the time I was not laughing. I was putting all my energy into trying not to scream every obscenity under the sun, and hoping I wouldn’t wee myself.
Finally, to the labour ward! Hurrah! Why do they have those dumb sliding doors where you have to push a button and wait for someone to open it? Yeah, yeah, security, I know – right now I think I’m your biggest threat. Squawked out my name to someone, and they showed me to a room… pacing continues. Can barely think let alone try and explain anything to the midwife.
Turns out I was 8cm dialated – the midwife said she was about to send me home even before checking me as I seemed too calm to be that far along. Calm? Really? Woah, you must come across some pretty crazy ladies in these parts. Someone in the next room sounds they they are being brutally murdered. Or they are a wounded wilder beast. Either one will do.
Viper returns. I barely noticed. He said he kept asking me questions, and trying to talk during the whole thing. I have no recollection. He says, ‘yeah, you were definitely off in another world.’ I prefer to think of myself as keenly focused on the job at hand. Probably the first time in my life I properly focused on anything, but hey, better late than never.
Anyway this is turning in to a mega post, so I’ll get to the good bits. My waters broke. It was disgusting. It stunk and made me want to vomit. Sorry.
I felt the urge. You know? The urge. I needed to push. At this point, I kinda got scared. I was worried I didn’t know what to do. That seems crazy to write now, because your body just does what it needs to do, but I remember feeling frightened.
Basically, Misty had a huge head (he gets that from Viper, ha) so it took awhile working on getting him out. Countless positions and the constant disappointment of actually feeling him coming down down down – not quite far enough – then sneaking his way back up again… it was exhausting. We also found out at this point, that Mopsy had been born – I was so far from caring at this point – but it is pretty awesome that these two little cuzzies were born 2 hours apart. Apparently Viper was all excited yelling, ‘They had a girl!’ I grunted, ‘I don’t f&*9ing care.’ So rude. They have this regulation at the hospital that after 1 hour of pushing, they call in the doctor to assist (read: forceps and other hideous instruments of baby torture). My midwife was awesome, and fought for me, saying – give me 2 more contractions, and we will have this baby out.
I don’t know how or where that extra bit of energy was dredged up from but we did it. I now know why my midwife called the stage where the head is out, “the ring of fire.” There was a bit of confusion on that last push as the midwife yelled, ‘thatta girl!’ at me, and Viper thought she was saying, ‘it’s a girl!’ – we had found out at the 12 week scan that Misty was a boy. Viper had a momentary panic that we had a daughter, but that was quickly rectified. Confusion sorted; I was in shock. A screaming slippery thing was placed on my chest and I didn’t know what to do. Through all that focus and physical exertion, I actually had forgotton I was having a baby. I was so intent on getting this thing out of me, that the fact it was my son never crossed my mind.
Viper said at that moment, my face just went from one extreme to another – intense pain, to shock, to amazement.
Best moment of my life. I welcomed my baby boy.
Happy birthday dude. You rock my world.