This Will Only Hurt a Little(68)
Around 11 p.m., I reached over for a glass of water next to the bed and a huge contraction hit and I threw the water all over the place. AND SO IT BEGAN! Real labor! FUN TIMES!!! We called Debbie, a certified midwife who was acting as a doula for my birth. In case you don’t know, a doula is a birth coach who comes over and hangs out with you and gives you support and lets you know when she thinks it’s time to call the doctor or go to the hospital. I labored at home for many hours. I thought I would want to get in my giant whirlpool tub, but as soon as I got in, it was really unpleasant for me, so I jumped out. I took a lot of hot showers, letting the water pound my lower back. For some reason we still don’t know, I was having back labor mostly. Which means I was feeling all of my contractions in my lower back. Most of the time, if you have back labor, the baby is in the wrong position, but my baby was right-side up, causing me extreme back pain. So that was fairly brutal. Around 7:30 a.m., on her way to work, Emily BB came over with a turkey sandwich for me. I had been craving them but hadn’t eaten them in my pregnancy because of listeria concerns (no cold lunchmeat!).
But since the baby was clearly coming out that day, I felt fairly safe that I could eat a turkey sandwich without the fear of exposing my unborn daughter to listeria. When I was almost eight centimeters dilated, our doula suggested we head over to Cedars. I called Leigh Ann on the way and she wanted to know if she should come to the hospital immediately. I told her no, I thought it would be a while, it was only eight in the morning. I had already been in real labor for nine hours. We were assigned a private room and a nurse named Tranell who was a true angel. My water still hadn’t broken and almost as soon as we got to the hospital, my contractions all but stopped, which is something that happens sometimes when women get to the hospital. Debbie wanted me to walk around, but that sounded terrible to me. I tried my best to relax so I could get back into labor. Eventually, Dr. Crane’s colleague came in (he had been delivering a baby down the hall) and he broke my water with what can only be described as a crochet hook. Then my contractions were back and stronger than ever. I was in so much pain. I wanted the drugs. I needed the drugs. This was too much pain.
I looked at Marc. “I need the drugs. I can’t do this. I have to have the drugs.”
“Okay. I’ll get them to get you the drugs. But I want to just say this. If you take them, everyone was right and YOU COULDN’T DO IT ON YOUR OWN.”
I looked at him with true fire in my eyes. “FUCK YOU, OF COURSE I CAN DO THIS ON MY OWN.”
“I know you can.”
“Okay!”
“Okay.”
“GET ME SOME ICE CHIPS!”
My labor went on and on. I hadn’t slept in over twenty-four hours. I was exhausted, but there was no way I could sleep. The contractions were so painful. Some medical students came in to see me, because I guess when you’re in a hospital choosing to give birth without an epidural, you’re kind of like an exotic animal and they want everyone to be able to have a look. By the time Dr. Crane showed up and I started pushing, I was beyond delirious. There are actually no words for how out of my mind I was. Time didn’t exist anymore. The world stopped turning. It was just me and this room that I lived in now, with its view of Jerry’s Famous Deli taunting me, the sun setting and turning the hills of West Hollywood purple and pink and beautiful and here I was, with this baby, this huge baby, trying her best, heart rate never dropping on her little fetal monitor, just taking her sweet-ass time making her way into the world the way she wanted to because that is who she is and has always been. I needed a full episiotomy. Again, if you haven’t had a child I apologize, but a full episiotomy is where they cut your vagina down to your rectum. It’s as fucking awful as it sounds and with no epidural, they just spray some lidocaine on there, numb it up a bit, and cut. Marc was in charge of playing music that made me happy. As it turns out, it was a lot of Whiskeytown and Arcade Fire. Tranell’s shift was over and a new nurse came in, but when Tranell came to say goodbye she changed her mind, “No. I have to stay and see this baby be born. I’m not leaving you.”
Unable to really speak, I smiled gratefully at her, and she and the other nurse each took a leg to hold back. I would push and then I would pass out until it was time to push again. I was having full-on hallucinations, about surfing and giant waves and bright colors and light taking me and floating on clouds and talking to people. I was almost done. She was almost out. I pushed so hard and lay back. I opened my eyes and I was in the boardroom of Sterling Cooper. Dressed as Peggy. At the end of the table was Don Draper and Pete Campbell.
Pete said, “I don’t think she can do it, Don.”
And Don took a drag of his cigarette and said, “Oh she’s gonna do it, Pete. She’s gonna do it.”
And then I was back. Marc said I was only out for a few seconds, but when I came to I was saying under my breath, “I can do it, Don. I can do it. I’m gonna do it.”
Marc turned on Arcade Fire’s “Wake Up” and Dr. Crane got the baby’s shoulders out. It is a pain that has no description. It enveloped my body in a radiating white-hot poker of fire—unable to focus, unable to breathe: all-consuming pain.
“Give me your hands. Here. Reach down. You want to pull her out??”
And with the help of Tranell and my other nurse and Debbie and Dr. Crane, I reached down and put my hands under her little armpits and pulled a giant purple and red butterball out of my throbbing, exhausted body and up onto my chest. I looked around to find Marc. He was there next to me.