As you all know, I had been having contractions for weeks. It seriously felt like months, but just a few mere weeks. On the day of the 26th, they seemed to be a little more “organized” but I have to admit that I was terrified they would just stop again. The 27th was my 40th week mark and I did not want to go past that. I have a irritating phobia about being late for anything and I intend to raise my children to be punctual as well. What type of mothering example would I be if I allowed her to be late for her first appointment in life!?!? Not only that, but I really wanted to meet her. Impatient? perhaps, but totally justifiable!
The Man, The Crayon Scribblers and I went on a long ride out in the country in the super-bumpy-needs-shocks jeep. After 3 hours of so much bouncing that The Scribblers had hiccups and I needed a new supportive bra, the contractions were the same. There but not seeming to do much. With only about 12 hours left until the 27th began, I began to feel desperate and did the only thing left that I knew to do.
Insert Castor Oil wives tale.
After 4 tbsps of the stuff, I sat my queasy self down on the couch and prepared to wait the 4-5 hours that the directions said that the oil took to work. Less than 2 minutes later, I had a WHAM contraction. Knowing the “results” of Castor oil and not wanting to leave anything to chance (or ruin the tapestry on the couch) I shuffled to the bathroom. Nope…nothing happening down there yet. Then…WHAM…another one. They were coming fast and they were coming hard. Obvioulsy this had nothing to do with Castor Oil timing, but rather Bitsy’s timing. The Man and I called the appropriate people and I drove myself to the hospital. I probably should have waited for a family member to get there for the kids, but I didn’t feel I should wait.
All I could think of the whole time was at some point this Castor Oil is going to kick in and its not going to be pretty.
I got to the hospital and after waiting 45 minutes for the non-insured, non-English speaking lady in front of me (that’s a rant for another day!!!!) I was finally taken back to a room to be monitored. After 2 hours of monitoring (Bitsy’s a slow mover) and lots of jumping jacks, squats and nipple stimulation when no one was looking they admitted me and promised me a baby was indeed coming.
Of course…so was that Castor Oil.
I was taken to the birthing suite and given an IV. I finally fessed up to my nurse and told her of the impending “Oil Spill” and she agreed to show me how to unhook myself quickly and not give me the epidural until after the “incident”
It’s a good thing too. Castor Oil is very effective for its intended purpose.
Finally after about 3 hours, The Man and my parents came to sit and wait it out with me. My twin went to my house to watch over The Scribblers.
At about 4am we started placing bets on Bitsy’s arrival time. I don’t remember the other times that were called out but I said about 7:15am. Turns out that I should go bet on the horses.
My epidural started wearing off at about 6am and for some reason they couldn’t get it to start back up. (Seems there is a little box that was connected to my IV that contained a bag of the miracle juice that had run out and all those medical degrees around me couldn’t figure out to just change the stupid bag) At 7am I was checked and was at a 7. At 7:20 I was complete and ready to push. At 7:27am Bitsy’s was pushed into this world by one Hercluean push. One and done!
Daddy cut the cord while they placed her body on my chest. She was the tiniest baby I had ever seen! 6lbs and 2oz, 17 1/2 inches. It’s those moments, when you are looking into your newborn’s face, that you don’t know whether you want to laugh, cry, whoop, hollar or dance around the room. Considering the IV and the fact that I just gave birth, I declined the dancing part and just kissed her little button nose and marveled at the tiny perfection that was lying in my arms. Every inch of skin was perfectly flawless, every tiny bone perfectly in place and every eyelash perfectly framed the perfect eyes that were looking into mine.
Bitsy fit perfectly in my arms, perfectly in our home and perfectly in our hearts.