Happy Accident

~Today's Mother's Day Mania theme is birth stories, which I'm pretty pumped about because, well, what mom doesn't love rehashing her harrowing tale of popping out a human?

So here we go:

Our pregnancy was not planned. Not by any means. DH and I had been together for a year and a half but kids were not on the radar at that point. I went to Florida with my aunt and cousin in early June 2007. While there, I jokingly told my aunt, "This alcohol just isn't tasting good. Something must be wrong with me." Prior to rearing children, I thought it was an unforgivable offense to waste liquor you see. That was my first clue something was off. The last few days we were there, I felt like crap. I got 2nd degree burns on my shins, got bit by some stupid native bug called the yellow fly and was dealing with a disgusting pussing welt left in its wake. When I got back home, I still couldn't kick whatever I had, so I went to the doctor. They took one look at the freak show that was my thigh and diagnosed me with an infected bug bite. I was given Amoxicillan and sent on my way. Instead of making me feel better, I just felt worse. After about the 15th time of informing DH I felt as though I could puke if I just opened my mouth, he pipes up, "Maybe you're pregnant." I laughed at him. What a man. Pregnant. I assured him I wasn't, it was just the meds upsetting my stomach and besides, I was having cramps so it must be any day now. Before kids, I had a really screwy cycle so I never counted. I just expected it sometime around the 31-33 day mark. I woke up the next morning, June 27th (I remember b/c it was my half-birthday...random) and got into my calendar on my phone. After figuring out when my last AF was, I did some quick math. Huh. It had been 41 days. Weird. I went to use the bathroom and when I saw clean undies, I thought 'eff it' and went digging for a leftover pregnancy test I had from a prior scare. I peed on it (and my hand) and set it on the counter to wash my hands. I look down and PREGNANT immediately pops up on the screen. I stared at it, waiting for the NOT portion to show up. The directions said results would take 3 minutes and it had literally been about 20 seconds. When, after ten minutes, it became apparent that it would not be making an appearence, I started laughing. Like, manically. I'm a really bad inappropriate laugher so I'm always the idiot giggling at weddings and funerals. Once it hit me exactly what the hell I was laughing at, I started crying. Bawling in fact. I HATED having pap smears, how the shit was I going to squeeze a baby outta my lady bits??!!!??

I decided to put the whole birthing thing out of my mind and concentrate on the issue at hand: puking my brains out non-stop. Whoever invented the term "morning sickness" was a God damned liar. I was sick 24/7. I carried a shopping bag in my purse for emergencies and by the end of the first trimester, DH was immune to me whipping it out to throw up while we were out I lost 25 lbs in a month and wound up in the hospital. With as sick as I was, you'd think I would have known I was having girl. But no. I was convinced it was a boy and actually cried on the sono table when told otherwise because I thought I had a defective maternal instinct.

Fast forward to Februrary 2008. I was put out on "take it easy rest" (my ob's words) due to a spike in my bp (my normal 110/60 had jumped to 140/95) so I spent a few weeks bonding with our couch. After a few pointless trips to L&D - I HATE when you call to ask a question and they immediately tell you to come in - , I was still pregnant and dialated to ZERO four days before my due date of the 24th. I was so pissed, I thought for sure I would be pregnant forever. My ob told me we wouldn't even discuss an induction until I was two weeks late. 2 weeks. WTF. On Friday the 22nd, DH and I went out for what was probably our fifth "last night out" meal. I came home, zonked out, and had the best sleep of my entire life. I awoke the next morning and felt something liquidy exit me. My first thought was that I'd peed the bed (I peed myself a LOT that pregnancy) so I got up to go to the bathroom and investigate. Some more trickled out. I honestly did not think it was my water breaking because it was nothing like the tsunami you see on television. I busted out the baby books and got on the internet and both said if it was amniotic fluid, it would smell sweet and not at all like urine. I put on my game face and decided to go sniff my sheets. Too bad when I go into our bedroom though, one of the dumb cats is rolling around and purring like a fucking freak all over the wet spot. I took a big whiff but after that, it just smelled like a wet cat. The books said if it WAS my water, it would stop if I laid down and start back up once I got up. I put a towel down for this test, climbed back into bed.... and fell asleep. I woke up at noon, nothing happened, I wasn't having contractions so I decided it was nothing, made a bowl of Honey Bunches of Oats, and settled in to watch a Spongebob marathon. I talked to my mom on the phone a few hours later and after an ass-chewing from her, called the on-call doctor at the hospital. I was told to come in to be checked (big surprise), which really irritated me. I told DH to just drop me off - I was too lazy to hike through the parking ramp - since he had a big paper due the next day and there was no use for him to waste hours of his time when they were inevitably going to be sending me back home. I got dropped off about 3:00. The registry nurse asked if I wanted to be wheeled up, but I was all, "nah! I'm fine!" and waddled my happy ass up to triage. They hooked me up to the monitors, swabbed me to check the fluid and said they'd be back. Mind you I wasn't feeling ANY contractions at this point. Imagine my surprise when they come back at 5:00, interrupt my People crossword puzzle and tell me, "It was your water! Call Daddy, we're having a baby!" I felt so stupid. Do you know how many times I had to explain why my water had broken at 9am and I didn't come to the hospital for six hours? "What were you doing?" "Uhhhhh, watching Spongebob."

They started my pitocen around 6:15 and having to turn it off a few times and give me shots to stop contractions (baby's heartrate was going goofy), I was finally 10 cm dilated around 5:30 am. I was so numb from my epidural - I swear to God, I was hitting that pump button like a damn feign - I couldn't feel a damn thing, so DH and a NICU nurse (they were there as a precaution due to her heartrate) had ahold of my left leg while another nurse had my right *. 45 minutes later, at 6:24 am Reagan Leigh made her grand entrance into the world. She was 7 lbs, 3 oz and 20 1/2 inches long. Full mullet of strawberry blonde hair. She was born on her due date, \February 24th. She was perfect, albeit tempermental - the heartrate issue turned out to be her tugging on her cord in anger at being evicted from the womb - and has been raising hell ever since.


Okay, so there ya go. Now it's YOUR turn. Yeah, you. Go!


*It's just not my birth story without this tidbit: DH and the nurse both failed miserably at the leg holding thing. As soon as Nut was born, DH left to take pics and the nurse just kind of forgot. Once she dropped her hold, my left leg flopped into THE most unnatural position I have ever seen. I actually wound up pinching a nerve and didn't fully regain feeling in my thigh for a few weeks after. True story. If it had happen to somebody, of course it had to be me.