Thursday, February 24, 2011
Today is my daughter’s 29th birthday. That was a big day for me 29 years ago today.
First, my water broke about 4 am. True to what they said in those weird classes, her father did not seem impressed and went back to sleep.
Now, I watch childbirth shows all the time. I once told her Dad childbirth is a woman’s Vietnam.
In one show—ONE BORN EVERY MINUTE—everyone seems to get pitocin to speed up labor. At least at that hospital—I thought that was kind of rare.
We went to the bank and hardware store before the hospital. For some reason, I made Jell-O, which sat in the fridge for weeks. The doctor said we should have hurried more.
It hurt—no epidural. But the nurses pooh poohed it—said they weren’t “real” labor pains. Yeah, well YOU have them, then.
Finally, I ended up with a Cesarean after 11 hours—fibroid big as a grapefruit (gross-sorry) they had not seen on the sono. She would never have come out. In olden times, she and I would both be taking harp lessons.
So now she’s 29. Not secretary of state, as we used to joke. But she has her moments.
Oh, almost forgot—if you don’t read the book on Cesareans during the class, you will get one. Yeah, I once thought that was stupid, too.