Seriously. One job. I was supposed to kick back with my feet up while a baby gingerly tap danced her way through the baby canal. One. Job.
Yes. That’s right. Baby Princess Lady is here! And, yes. That’s also right. My stupid, lazy, failure epidural couldn’t do the one thing it was designed to do; relieve the bone and soul crushing pain of childbirth.
I went in on a Thursday morning for my induction. A few days earlier, I had decided that I was tired and just not interested in the trauma of birthing a child. I was all epiduraled up for the birth of my first but experienced the full
horror glory of labor and delivery with the birth of our second and largest baby. There were aspects of both experiences that I appreciated but, having decided that I was tired, mentally prepared for birth with the epidural. Like, the minute I walked into the hospital.
Me, upon walking into the hospital: “Hey! I’m here for my epidural! I mean, to check in. But, seriously. Get my epidural ready.”
Honestly, I really do have a high pain tolerance. In fact, “labor” feels like nothing more than the last 8-10 weeks of my pregnancies right up until the transition period. Then, it’s not about pain tolerance anymore. It’s about me going ape $h:t crazy. I’m afraid of me. I am overcome with a Bravo reality show level of panic and drama and that is what I was not willing to deal with the third time around.
So, I waltzed in that Thursday morning fully prepared to sleep, text and paint my nails through the birth of our third child.
First of all, the process of getting an epidural is horrendous. I truly have no problems with needles. In fact, I’ve never even seen the epidural needle. I’ve heard it’s as long as Chris Brown’s arrest record but, like I said, that doesn’t bother me (best of luck, Chris Brown!). What does bother me is the fact that I’m supposed to arch out only the tiniest dot of my middle back and somehow tuck myself into a little ball all while contracting so this anesthesiologist-in-training can drill into my spine multiple times until she finds an avenue that doesn’t create the little lightning rod seizure things down my legs. No, thanks. Like, look. I know you need to practice on real humans but, here’s an idea. Why don’t you guys go practice on each other?! I’m in labor and, quite frankly, I don’t trust you one bit with your lack of experience and Godzilla needle. I want an epidural but not from you, dollface.
And, before you go nuts on me, let me just present you with the fruits of the newbie’s labor. SHE DID IT WRONG. The epidural didn’t even take. They do that first shot of numbing medicine before they start the epidural iv and I felt the slightest bit of tingle from that. Then, I just kept waiting and contracting and waiting and contracting until I thought, “Hmmm. This is kind of starting to hurt like a mofo. I should say something. Wait. Maybe they’ll want to run another epi line. Nope. Suffer in silence.” But, of course I am physically unable to keep any feelings to myself so I told Mr. Black. He then took it upon himself to advocate for me (always loving me and stuff, geez!) and my nurse brought a new and slightly more confidence-giving anesthesiologist to test some things.
“Here we go. Does that help?”
“Okay. This should do it. Better?”
“Alright. Last try. How about now?”
But, at this point, my water had broken and I had gone from hours at 4cm to having a serious case of the poops (meaning, a baby head was coming) in a very short amount of time. The pain was bad but not nearly as terrible as with the Bear so my main issue was the raging anger stew that was coming to a boil in my chest over the audacity of that stupid, stupid epidural. By the time the new anesthesiologist told me he’d need to tap another line, I was calling the nurse to catch my womb fruit. (Oh, good Lord. But, they couldn’t find my doctor for a minute and the only other doctor available was the OB of my nightmares, one I had transferred away from with our first child. Thankfully, my angel doctor miraculously appeared at the last second.)
Princess Lady was born after a solid two minutes of pushing and ten hours of Pitocin before that.
But, seriously. I hate you, epidural.