Matthew and I arrived at the hospital practically on two wheels and nearly missing a visiting family walking (straggling ) across the driveway entrance. It was all Matt could do to not yell for them to get the hell out of the road (wait I think he did). Once that car was at a complete stop (barely) we both jumped out and immediately proceed to the back triage room but not before I had to stop and squat at the entrance doors- sounds funny now. Oh wait (elevator music) we had to stop at the desk to sign Power of Attorney in the event I died and admittance forms (...back to Metallica and techno music combined)
I made it to the exam room and got on the table where I heard the nurse talking on the phone and refering to me as "a live one, she's a squatter!" That gave me pause. Back on the table, I laid there getting examined and immediately had my water break. I remember thinking "Oh God, that's what water breaking feels like...that would have been embarrassing if it had happened in public". It was at this point I learned I was dilated to 9cm ("maybe 9.5cm"). Talk about go from 0 to 60 in no time! I remember freaking out saying "she told me to go home. I TOLD her my mother had babies fast (for some reason that seemed important).
After the exam, I was immediately wheeled into the delivery room where like at least 5 nurses came out of nowhere and started wheeling in carts, pullling lights down and prepping the room and was told I was ready to push if I wanted. WTF!! No, I did not want to push, I wanted to crawl out of my body. Every yoga, and so called labor position did not to shit to relieve the back pain I was experiencing. I wanted some freakin drugs and I wanted them now! Hell, I would have taken a shot of whisky (and I did ask but was denied) if they would have offered. I REALLY wanted that damn epidural now but the only way I was gonna get it was if I shut up, calmed down and held still- that was like asking me to hold off a hurricane, words were flying, accusations where slinging and the teeth were about to come out (though Matt swears they did). Somewhere my resolve kicked in and my desire for pain control was stronger then the contractions I was now having every 2 minutes. So after multiple tries to place an IV in my hand (which to this day I still don't see how they had such a hard time- have you seen my veins, a blind man could hit them from a mile away). Anyways, IV in place and through no small feat- epidural working its magic, life was good again (Que Ice Cube's "I Guess It Was a Good Day"). At this point it was like "hand me my cell phone, I got business to tend to."
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