Not so planned, birth plan

It has been a week since I arrived at the entrance of the labor and delivery center, was induced, and delivered my already week late baby boy. All I could think about was the fact that I was about to do something I had never done before in my life. I was scared out of my mind but also anxious to see what my baby looked liked.

I had prepared myself for this moment by reading as many books and blogs as I could. I watched graphic birth videos of home births, natural births, and cesarean births. It could have been my surge in hormones but every one of those videos left me in a mountain of tears. Tears because what I was witnessing was one of the most beautiful things in the world combined with knowing that I would soon experience that very same thing. Still, they could have never prepared me for the excruciating pain that I was about to experience. As I sit here typing this, I am still in disbelief that I am somebody’s mother–that what happened last week actually happened.

I had a birth plan. I knew how I wanted things to go. I also knew that some things were out of my control, something that I despised having to relinquish for the past nine months. I did not want to be induced. I wanted to let the process naturally play out. My doctor, on the other hand, did not. I was already 41 weeks and my baby would only grow bigger the longer I waited for his arrival. So once again, I gave up my power to do things my way for the safety of my son, my birth canal, and myself.

We arrived at the hospital around 7 p.m. with enough bags to fly around the world twice – I am pretty sure we over packed our bags. I wanted to make sure I had everything that I may need– my essential oils, my crystals, and most importantly my lip balm. I doubt I would ever survive without it. My significant other, of course, had to have his gaming system (rolls eyes). Once we got checked into our room I made myself comfortable and dressed into one of those not so flattering hospital gowns. My nerves have definitely set in by now. In my head the affirmation, “I am grounded in peace and love and my body is capable of doing what it naturally is meant to do,” is cycled until I start to relax.

The nurse comes in to attempt to start my IV–emphasis on attempt. She try’s both my arms before she decides to call in another nurse to start the IV without blowing my vein again. She also fails. By now I’m a tad bit irritated that they keep poking me. It usually takes one attempt to get my veins–they are not small by any means. Finally, a third nurse succeeded after about three blown veins and multiple “wtf” side eyes. So the fluids start, then the Pitocin and that’s when $#+% got real.

To be continued…