You Complete Me

Let me start by saying I'm SO not loving Tom Cruise right now...after that whole jumping on Oprah's couch shenanigan...pluuuuueaz.  But I will steal his line from Jerry Maguire, because after birthing my last baby, there are no words more perfect than these.  So, sue me, Tom.

So there I was, 3 days overdue with #5, and 4 cm dilated, begging my OB for an induction.  "Okay Michelle.  We can agree that the baby is cooked.  I see an opening the day after tomorrow."  To which I quickly replied, "I'll take it!"  FINALLY...light at the end of the tunnel, for baby and mama.

I should have known better than after serving the eviction notice, that baby would decide to come on THEIR terms.  So around 8 o'clock that night, I started to have a few contractions. 

But my rule of thumb during labor is, when I start dropping the F bomb with EVERY contraction, then it's time to go.  And these were painful, but definitely "La Maze" friendly.  I called Foxy, who lives in Santa Rosa, and hubby, who was working late, and explained, "You know, I'm having a few labor pains, but I think I'm fine. (DENIAL)  Why don't I put the girls down for bed, and call you if anything dramatically changes."

Well, Mama's just KNOW better, and my mom had herself in the damn car already, and started driving to San Jose. 

Which was good, because within 30-45 minutes, I was on all fours in my bedroom, trying not to disturb the girls, while dropping the F bomb with every contraction.  I called Tom and said, "Come home NOW."  I mean, I really thought, I could possibly squeeze in an episode of Dancing With the Stars that I had on TiVo, between labor pains.  Maybe I wouldn't get to the actual "Results Show", but c'mon, I could handle this, right?  Wrong.

You know how you see those horrible shows on TLC, titled, "I Didn't Know I Was Pregnant"?  Yeah, right, she didn't know she was pregnant, until she went into the bathroom to move her bowels, and a baby dropped out into the toilet!

Warning:   Only other women should read the next paragraph, ok?

 Ladies, now that we're alone,  let me tell you, I'm not gonna lie.  Each time I had a contraction, I felt as though I would vomit, AND have a BM, simultaneously...only through  the joy of LABOR, right?!  Let's be real:  NO ONE wants to poop on the table while birthing a baby.  And our body has a natural way of cleaning itself out before hand, so that it probably won't happen.  But, as God as my witness, I was scared shitless...literally.  Fearful, that if I had a BM, I would look down into the toilet and see a tiny little person.  You'll be happy to know, I made it through okay.

By 9:30, Tom still wasn't home.  I called frantically, "Where the FUCK are you?" 

Note: during this part of labor, the F word is used as a noun, verb, and adjective.  "Honey, I'm coming from Watsonville...I'm 15 minutes away."  AGHHHHHH!  I thought he was in San Jose, NOT Santa Cruz.

In the meantime, my Auntie arrived to spend the night with the girls.  "Auntie, I ate your chicken soup for dinner.  But I'm a bit worried that if I throw it up, I'll never be able to eat it again."  Kind of like that one time in college, you had waaaay too much Tequila? 

She talked me through my labor, assuring me to "Just breathe through it."  But I don't really think I was breathing.  I would classify it as more of a moaning wail, sprinkled with obscenities.

Finally, Tom showed up, and we arrived at Kaiser around 10:30 pm, with Foxy hauling ass, leading the way.  When we arrived at Labor and Delivery, I was taken into an observation room.  Now mind you, this was the same room, where I "acted" that I may be in labor about 5 days earlier, and I was promptly sent home, defeated. 

"I'm going to have the baby in here?" I asked the nurse.  "We have to make sure you're in active labor," she stated matter of factly.   After dropping the F bomb with the next contraction, I told her, "You're funny."

After realizing I was 5-6 cm dilated, I got the green light, and it seemed like things were speeding up.  As they moved me to the birthing room, the nurses kept saying, "FIFTH baby?  You need to push?"  My reply was, "No, I don't need to push.  I NEED an epidural." 

And voila, like magic, the Anaesthesiologist appeared.  After she hooked me up, we became Besties.  Turns out, she's a runner too.  We talked about different races, and training.  ALL the while, I felt absolutely NO pain.  SEE...that's what I'm talken' bout.

Around 7am the next morning, I was at 10 cm, ready to push.  I love it when the Doc says, "Okay Michelle, go ahead and give a push," like it's a practice round. 

Hey man, I got my game face on, you know?  So I do as the good Doc asks, and give a push.  All of sudden, she's back peddling, saying, "Okay Michelle, you can STOP pushing.  This baby is going to come before I even put my gloves on."  I'm like, you TOLD me to push woman.

I push again, "Okay, this baby is sunny side up.  Baby is facing the wrong way so baby may be a bit bruised when they come out."  I push again, a head appears.  But then a HUGE nurse steps right in front of the mirror, and well, I didn't get to see the rest of the show, so to speak.

But I did get the best part ever.  When that slippery little nugget was handed to me, so that I could make the official gender announcement.  As I turned that tiny little peanut over and looked down, I said, "It's a GIRL!" 

There was not even a moment, an iota, a hesitation, of disappointment that it wasn't a boy.  Just a feeling of pure completion to my very soul. 

Here she is.  We were missing this very precious piece that I didn't even know we needed.  But now, it's all so clear.  I need her, way more than she will ever need me. 

Welcome to the world,  Charlotte Grace.  I can't wait to see what you will teach us all.