After writing Carson’s birth story (of epic length) there were a few little details I wanted to add for your benefit and, let’s face it, amusement.
Hard work can actually be pretty funny.
- As I moved through transition and headed towards the pushing stage, the pressure (read: pain) really started to intensify. As it came time to push, I wasn’t sure that my body could handle much more. (Which, in case you need to know, is a hallmark sign of transition signaling that the baby is near.) Our midwife could see that I was holding back. She encouraged me to make as much noise as I needed to get the job done. And I did. Some women moan in labor, some probably scream…I rawr-ed. Not “roar” like I am woman hear me roar. Not a deep warrior princess roar. A dinosaur rawr. Like I was at a five-year-old’s birthday party. Whatever works, right? Ben told me later it was actually kind of hilarious, but he wouldn’t dare laugh in the moment; see next point.
- Everyone in the room has told me I kept my cool during the laboring process and I wasn’t too demanding. I did, however, tell my sweet husband to “shut up” when he got a little too excited over me telling him I felt like I was going to, you know, experience an embarrassing bodily function. Ah, labor.
- My sister apparently proudly announced to the family in the waiting room that I was 10 meters dilated. Let’s just say if that were the case, I’m sure labor would have gone a whole lot faster.
- Once Carson arrived and we had our family bonding time, a nurse came to take me to our room. She cleaned me up and set me in the wheelchair, then paused and asked if I’d like any pain reliever. “Percocet, Motrin, or Tylenol?” She offered. And I, the woman who gave birth without any pain medication at all, asked for a Tylenol. “Just one will do.” I squeaked. I had to giggle at myself.
- Leaving the hospital, while exciting, was actually completely overwhelming. As I told my father-in-law about going home in complete seriousness, “They just set your baby in the car and leave. They didn’t even give us an owner’s manual or anything.” Seriously, what does this light mean?
If you can’t laugh at yourself, what can you laugh at?