Birth stories, part 1

Warning:  If blood and gore don’t go over with you, don’t read this post.

Hmm, I should add: if you are male, and you THINK you can handle blood and gore, let me remind you of the title of this post.  I have discovered blood and gore of the warring variety and that of a “female” variety are two very different things in the eyes of men.  Not saying I don’t think you could “hack it” mind ya. . .


I like to tell people that Jay and I conceived all of 15 minutes after we decided to try (each time).  I feel I’m being “generous”. 😉

That really is a joke, by the way. . .

Jay, being the military man he is, his statement is more like “one shot – one kill”.

Now, isn’t that just a horrible way to think of bringing a new life into the world?

Anyway, the point is, we tried 4 times for kids.  We succeeded each time.

My pregnancies were average / run of the mill varieties.  The first one was a dream, no problems, and I had a grand time “eating for two”.  What an idiot I was!  The second one, I was tired A LOT.  Three and four. . .those were odd.

They were odd because I didn’t loose the “monthly visit” until the 3rd trimester!  (For both of them!)  What kind of crock is that, I ask you?  That’s one of the bennies, right?  Darn thing started right after delivery too. . .

I never took the time to read “What to Expect When You’re Expecting”.  Honestly, I didn’t want to know.  I wanted the first experience to be completely “unbiased” and “surprising”.  I wanted the experience for myself. . .not from the point of view of others.

So, I did not know, for example, that *normal* people “deliver” twice (once for the babe, and once for the rest).  To be perfectly honest, I’m still not sure that isn’t a myth, as I’ve never experienced it.

Drew’s birth was LONG. . .  I went into labor on a Sat. morning, and he didn’t appear until Mon. morning.

I had a male delivery nurse.  Oh, and 3 Catholic priests (I’m not Catholic), a female nurse, one or two doctors and a couple dozen residents (doctors in training).  The priests were there to observe birth so that they could be better counselors to their parishoners (that was what they told me, and we’re sticking to it).  Oh yes, Jay was in there too.

(I think my room was so full because no one else was on the delivery floor. . .)

OH!  And thank God for epiderals!  I’m a big, huge wimp.

The problem with epiderals is that if they are strong enough, you don’t feel SQUAT.  Which for a first delivery, I thought that was a GOOD thing.

There’s a problem with this however.  For when they tell you that you need to push, and you don’t feel anything. . .

It took over two hours of “active labor” to get him out.  When he finally made it out, he had to be rushed off to the NICU (for tachypnea), and maybe that’s how I missed the rest.  For the placenta came out in pieces (more like forcibly removed), and this was a cause of some concern to the docs. . .but not to me, because I didn’t know what was supposed to happen.

And this is how, 3 weeks later, at home by myself with my newborn son, I spiked him on the floor.

Don’t see the connection yet, do ya?  And you are sitting there aghast that I’m spilling my child abusive ways here on my blog. . .

When I left the hospital, 1 week after delivery (staying in that long because Drew wasn’t released till then), they informed me that I should be bleeding like a “normal menstration”.  They didn’t tell me that it should lesson and stop within the week. . .

And typically, I’m a heavy bleeder. . .

So, on that day 3 weeks after his birth, I got up from feeding him a little too quickly.  I passed out.  When I came to, I woke to see my newborn son (my Life) on the floor about 4 feet away from me.  All I could remember was thinking, “Please be breathing, please!”

The squall he soon let out put me somewhat at ease.

I low-crawled to his position and checked him over before scooping him up in my arm and crawling to the phone.

I called Jay’s office, and discovered he was already on his way home.

I placed Drew in his crib, and made it into the bathroom.

There was blood all over, I went back into my bedroom to get clothes, but upon returning to the bathroom it seemed helpless. . .  I just sat on the toilet, and tried to clean all the blood within reach off the “white”  (the whole bathroom was white).

I remember, when Jay came home I just started crying and asking for juice. 

I hate juice, but I know from experience that when you go to give blood or when you pass out, *they* like to give you juice.

I don’t know what Jay saw upon bringing the juice to the bathroom, to be honest it’s all “foggy” to me, and he doesn’t talk about it.  I just know he left rather quickly to get a neighbor.  (Umm, but he mustuv done something because I was dressed and out of the bathroom when he went to get said neighbor.)

Our neighbor, Steve, took one look at me and had Jay call 911.  I think he also took Drew over to his house so his wife, Angie, could watch after him.  Maybe Jay took Drew?  I don’t recall. . .Drew was taken care of in any case.

The first response team arrived (fire-fighters), the paramedic’s name was Sam.  See, somehow those details are stuck in your head forever. . .He had to “visually inspect the ‘er’ area”.  Poor guy!  Probably scarred him for life!  I recall en route he telling me I had pretty eyes.  And I was sitting there thinking, that it really takes something for a person to have seen what he just did and find something to compliment me on.

They wound up taking me to the local military hospital (I was still in the service at this time).  Which, interestingly enough, was not permitted to take care of OB cases (which this was considered) due to a previously high infant mortality rate.  So, I was put in another ambulance bound for a different military hospital.

The paramedic in the back of this one was an older gent.  He was so funny!  I remember he had turned up the temp, in the back because I was shivering.  He told me, that as soon as I started feeling warmer to let him know and he’d turn the heat off.  I made some comment about still feeling cold and I hoped that he wasn’t too uncomfortable.  He remarked that he had a good idea of what life in the Sahara must be like.

Jay could not ride in the ambulance down to the 2nd hospital and had to go back home, check on Drew.  Before he left I told him to put up the meat I had thawing on the counter (because for some reason that was very important to me at the moment).  When he finally made it to the second hospital, he told me there was no meat on the counter.

We later learned that Steve had still been in the apartment when Sam had to “visually inspect”, and had sought “refuge” in the kitchen.  He saw the meat on the counter and put it in the frig.

 The long and short of it is, that my placenta just couldn’t get enough of me and wanted to stick around, and this caused a hemorrhage.  (This is technically known as placenta accreta and your placenta “weaves” itself either to or through the uterine wall, and could become horribly serious.)  This required a D & C (which is almost as tedious as drill and ceremony, but not quite, ‘cuz they give you drugs), and a couple units of blood.  (The “couple” is vaguely used there, because I know it was more than one and less than 4. . .)

I don’t really “remember” that.  I did have drugs after all.  I do remember afterwards they had me under this lovely warming blanket.  Oooh, I want one of those!  I recall the nurse coming over and telling me that I’d gotten too hot (and I was just feeling comfy) and she snatched that blanket right away!  Oh, boy howdy, did I throw a temper tantrum!  I was so offended that she would take the one thing that was making my day go so much better; I started crying.  Yep, that got her in a tizzy, she said I would have to calm down.  She even called Jay in to try and get him to get me to calm down.  Yeah, but he’s always on my side, so he asked for the blanket back, which got him ejected from the room.  Think she wound up “sneaking” something into the IV too. . . Didn’t like that nurse at all!

Steve and his lovely wife watched Drew for us.  It is something I’ll be forever grateful for.


This has gotten much longer than I intended!  It will have to be completed in 2 parts, though I’ve yet to determine how to arrange them. . .  And I’ve just been itching to talk about something else as well, so I need to finish this up.

The 2nd part is here.

This entry was posted in family.

One comment on “Birth stories, part 1

  1. "Elena H" says:

    Michael had that very same thing that starts with a “t”. He had to stay in the hospital for 6 days. I don’t remember this bloody story. I like how “whats his name” tried to get you a blanket back. That is sweet. I think I need sleep. It is 11:30 and I am seeing blurry. You have probably been sleeping for a while which is bugging me. I would have put a smiley right there ^ if I knew where it was.
    I only have a few more blogs “?” to read. I wish I could see your face when you see that comment list. Can other people read these things. I don’t want to get too personal. That is hard for me…to not get personal. Another smiley here *

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