So this fabulous lady over at All A Bunch Of Momsense did this post about a “V” birth compared to a “C” birth. She invited us to tell our stories on our own blogs (plus she gave me props and has promised me some serious beef) So to all my male readers: click that small “X” in the right hand corner. Moms and female readers…you know where this is going.
I have only had “V” births, meaning pushing that precious bundle through miles of muscle, tissue and bones. As opposed to a “C” birth of gently lifting your bundle out of a gaping man made cavity.
Let me say here and now, that I will tolerate no comments about one being a “natural” birth over another method. No matter how you slice it (snort) or push it, it’s natural. Your body grew this bundle, nourished it and prepared it for life outside; however it makes its entrance is of little consequence. I don’t think God looks at us when we are entering heaven and says, wait…that was not a natural entrance. He welcomes us all the same (although I do believe he shakes his head in disbelief over the bungee cord accidents and electric radio on the side of the tub people – not meaning to offend any readers who know someone who has gone that way, I am just sayin…)
So far, I have had nothing but “V” births. (I’ll let you know in a couple of weeks if I am still a 100% V gal)
First daughter was mostly un-medicated. Mostly. This was not by my choice but due to a rush on the nurses and anesthesiologist as all 40 women on the floor decided to deliver within about an hour of each other. In this case, those who screamed the loudest got their meds first. If I had known that I would have taken the leather strap out of my mouth and the pillow off my face. As it turned out the moment my epidural was inserted and before it kicked in, I had “The Ring Of Fire” (insert dramatic swell of music) For those who have not heard of that, it where you get this wonderful burning sensation right at the point of baby exit. (If that lady who dumped the coffee in her lap felt that way…no wonder she sued) Within 20 minutes, that bundle ripped her way out of my body and into the world. Perhaps I was spared the feeling of the ripping by the epidural…frankly I was too worn out from the 10 hours of labor to care what else happened to my body (I should have gotten that root canal done while I was at it) They shut the meds off right after the placenta (inner shudder at that word) was delivered and I spent the next hour regaining my feeling back so I could sit on the toilet like they wanted me to. At this point, all hospital personnel left me alone with instructions to only call if I passed a clot bigger than a tennis ball. Seriously…a tennis ball? Huge inner shudder!
Second daughter, I walked into the ER demanding my epidural right then and there. I was not going to be passed over again. This time, I got my wish and by the time I was at a 5, I was numb and taking a nap. It seemed like no time at all before they told me to push and wah-lah…another bundle. I had some horrible itching all over my body after delivery, but nothing other than that. Not even the dreaded tennis ball clot.
After both girls, I was up and moving within about 5 hours from birth and able to deal with the discomfort with little more than Tylenol. Honestly I did take a couple of the codeine pills, but only for recreational purposes and to be able to sleep through the other women wailing down the hall.
It took about 3 days from moment of exit to feel halfway normal. Well, if you can call engorged boobs and bleeding more than a…well…I can’t think of anything to compare it to that has still lived.
You know what….this has been very theraputic for me. Here I was, anxious and antsy to get this new little pink bundle delivered to ease my bodily discomforts and after typing this up…I think I am good for a while. Yup, I am good. I may have some leg numbness, back pain, etc…but at least I am not passing clots big enough to be named and get a social security number.