Johnson.... Party of Three

SO. YA WANNA HEAR A STORY????? Pull up a chair, kiddies... this could take a while!!!

So Thursday, I ran around like a madwoman--- running errands, doing furniture shopping.... --- you know... the usual stuff for a girl a week overdue!


anyways--- I talked to a few friends that day/afternoon, so y'all know nothing was going on. Party was set for Saturday--- gonna have folks over to watch the hopkins/de la hoya fight.... all systems seemed fabulous and ready to wait til Tuesday, (my next doc's appointment) so I could get me a libra!


I was watching crappy TV while Troy worked, and started noticing that my stomach was hurting like a mother. I had been crapping a lot that day, so I figured it was just more stomach pains. only thing... they were hitting me every 10 minutes, and only lasting like a minute. WTF... all I could think was this next one was gonna be one helluva poop, ya know?


well, as the night progress, the pain level did too, as did the frequency. by 8pm, I was using the stopwatch... I figured after 2 hours of these pains and not even a fart... it had to be contractions (told you folks I'm slow!)


by the time apprentice came on, they were just over 5 minutes apart, and I found myself breathing through them. I can't remember if I hee'ed or haw'ed, but I needed to breath to get through 60 seconds of pure stomach hell.


We decided this was it, so we headed to the hospital so we could at least be in a room by the time someone was going to be 'fired', and would be able to watch it.


Sure enough, but 10:45 pm, I was in a room, and getting hooked up to the fetal heartbeat and contraction monitor.


couldn't tell you who got fired, cause I was breathing. that was effort enough.




They monitored me for a little over 3 hours. AT this point, the searing pain was coming every 3 minutes. No Ginsu knife could cause the pain I was feeling.... and 3 hours of them sucked. it sucked bad.

(side note--- these people that think that BREATHING through a minute of intense stomach hell must have survived some form of world war or chemical assault that simulates small green soldiers with bayonets stabbing your innards. did I mention the pains sucked? yeah. they do.)


so I did what any rational pain-wimp would do---- I proceeded to throw up on TOP of the contractions. life was just a party, can I tell you???


around 3 or 4am, they held a little conference. oh!!! BTW--- my doctor was (and still is) on vacation, so I have the entire on-call staff up my cooch. nothing says welcome to motherhood like a stranger's arm up your cooch!


My nurse--- bless her heart--- did not want to send me home. she was feeling the pain for me (and smelling my puke, I think) and did not want to have to send me home, as I was already overdue.


Doc said I could go home, or stay and have him break my water and give me an epidural.
now--- I may be slow to the take, but to GO HOME and continue to throw up, feel searing pain, and only be comforted by my cold bathroom floor.... or stay and get the show started.
yeah. no brainer. I would have taken virgo septuplets if it meant I was going to get some drugs!!!!


By 4am, the drug line was in, but I was still needing to breathe through contractions. WTF, dude??? Flirt, flirt, but showing my "I could kill you with my bare hands if you don't make this go away" face, I politely asked if I could get more drugs.


I was now in the inner circle of users. I had my normal Epi drip, plus and extra 10 cc's of juice mixed in. don't know, nor did I ask what my special cocktail was--- all I know is that it worked. Carrie was back in business.

Around 6am they checked me, and I was somewhere ABOUT 3cm, so they started a petocin drip in my IV. Petocin, so I'm told, is supposed to help your cervix dilate.

LONNNNNNNNNNG story (mind you... long PAIN FREE story, cause drugs are through my veins like the red on my blood) long story short... by 4pm, I was still at 6cm.... not good for the amount of petocin (about 10 hours worth) that I had in me.


We decided to go for the cut.


I had to do a shot of some sweet and sour liquid that was supposed to nuetralize stomach acid. No matter how tight I held my nose, I could not even fool myself into thinking it was a lemon drop or dirty Tuaca. I puked again. (that was like #5)


My drug pimp tapped another clear life saving fluid into my IV, and said I should be ok for surgery.


The surgery was weird. I was feeling like I was being crucified. at first I thought it was the drugs talking, but then they strapped my arms down, and I was feeling a little edgy. It seemed very b-Movie ish. like some mad scientist wanted his way with the vixen fat girl. But I digress.


The cut itself was fine--- I fealt nothing thanks to my new best friend in the entire world. At 4:43pm on Friday the 17th, little Rhena Elizabeth was untangled from the cord wrapped around her throat twice, wiped up from the meconium that was smeared on her body, and took her first breath.


un-effing-believable.

a-freaking-mazing!

I stayed on the table (ok... no choice, and inability to move might have played SOME part, but y'all know what I mean!) and Troy went with our baby girl to get her stuff done. During this time I chatted with the surgeons about good bars and restaurants in Reno (or rather... lack thereof) and Seattle. It seemed like the thing to do.


All in all... at least after the drugs took hold... it was a good experience. there's quite a bit to the aftermath, but hell... I'm not working, so you'll hear about it next time we gather round the monitor.


I feel like I should come up with some clever way to end this post, but all that comes to mind is that I'm a mom now. That alone is the coolest thing ever.