“
I said to myself, This is going to be quick.
I also thought: I’ll take the epidural now! Because the contractions were starting to demonstrate what the pain of birth is all about.
The obstetrician came in. I smiled, ready for my shot.
“I don’t know how to tell you this,” she said. “Your platelets are really, really low.”
“Okay,” I said. I knew what platelets were-blood cells whose job it is to stop bleeding-but I had no idea why that was significant. “So, my epidural?”
“You can’t have any medications.”
“Come again?”
“No drugs, no medications,” she said. “No epidural. I’ve called around to different anesthesiologists, and no one will touch you.”
“No epidural?”
“Nothing.”
There are girls from third-world countries who do it with no drugs, I reminded myself. My mother elected for natural childbirth. How bad can it be?
I got this.
It started to hurt. I thought to myself, I am not going to cuss.
Hell no! I am about to be a mother. I am bringing our baby into a positive environment and must be a good role model.
Wow!
The contractions built up quickly. My pristine vision of perfect, calm, quiet childbirth disappeared. A banshee snuck into the room and took over my body.
Arrrgggh!!!
No cursing!
There was a rocking chair in the birth room. I went over and sat in it and began moving back and forth. Chris put on a CD by Enya that we’d brought to listen to: peaceful, pleasant music. I took a deep breath.
Jeez, Louise! That one was a monster!
Then, a breather.
I’m doing goooooood! Breathe. Breathe…
Wow!
Then I said some other things. The banshee had a mind of her own.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” I apologized to the nurses as I recovered from the surge of the contraction.
“It’s okay,” said Chris.
The pain surged again.
Dang!
Jiminy!
And other things.
Chris would watch the monitor. Suddenly he’d turn to look at me.
“What?” I asked.
“That was a strong one.”
“Uh-huh.”
The funny thing is, the stronger the contractions were on the monitor, the less they seemed to hurt. Maybe when things are really bad you focus more on being tough. Or perhaps my brain’s pain mechanism simply went on strike when the agony got too much.
”
”