Wednesday, February 18, 2009

You want me to what with you in the room?

A lot of people used to say to me, "wait until you have a baby. Nothing will ever embarrass you again." I used to think, "well, okay, a few people seeing you squeeze something the size of a watermelon out of something the size of a grape is pretty humiliating but it's this whole "miracle" thing so everyone gets over it. We go to the gyno, right? If you are like me, you even have a male doctor. I thought that one was going to be pretty hard to overcome. Amazingly, it wasn't.

But, NOTHING could prepare me for today. NOTHING.

Apparently, my kid takes after her daddy and does not like to stay still. Today, she was extra feisty. Surely, it could not have been the 2 pieces of candy I ate in the waiting room because she was doing acrobats for hours. Usually, a good candy bender makes her squirm for a bit and then she crashes. Today, she was non-stop for 3 hours. This made my time hooked up to the contraction meter A LOT longer. Twenty minutes became three hours. And during those three hours, wouldn't you know my cellphone rang more than it does in a whole month. Of course.

While measuring my contractions, the baby's heartrate would drop significantly. You can imagine how alarming this is especially when a nurse who sometimes forgets about you for a full twenty minutes comes rushing in every three minutes. The drop could be attributed to a few things. One, the baby moved away from the monitor. Two, the baby grabs the cord and cuts off her air supply. Three, the baby is in some sort of distress.

In an attempt to eliminate whatever is causing the drop, I had to keep flipping from one side to the other hoping she'd settle into a position where she could not grab the cord. Who am I birthing? George of the Jungle. It would work for a while and of course, as soon as we got a good position on her, I would cease having any contractions. The nurse is trying to stand there and hold the monitor in a good spot but she has other patients to attend to and every time she walks out of the room thinking she has it, the kid moves out of spite. I don't know anyone who would do that.

After two and a half hours and 2 different nurses coming in to find the position. The nurse comes back and says that my doctor is on the phone with my other doctor and they are talking about moving my c-section up. They just wanted to try one more thing first. I had to pee so bad, I would have done anything to get off that reclining backache. She asked if I had a stopwatch and my cell does have one so, check.

"Okay, you have to play with your nipples for one minute and then rest for five."

Um, what? I have to what?

"I can stand behind you or leave the room if that would make you more comfortable."

Yeah, NOT doing this at all would make me more comfortable.

"I need you to have 3 contractions in ten minutes. Do you want me to unhook your bra."

Whoa, hang on, aren't you going to buy me dinner first? At least she gave me a sheet to cover myself with. Not quite lobster.

But, I guess I was getting my first lesson in motherhood. If you think your kid is in distress, you will do whatever it takes to help the peanut out. However, I did keep laughing at the situation while doing it because I could not help but think that when The Hubs got home I could tell him all about having some girl-on-girl action at 9 months pregnant and watching him recoil in horror at the thought and irony of the situation. Of course, during my first attempt, he calls and I wanted to pick up and ask him to talk to dirty but my hands were too busy trying to tune in Tokyo.

The first attempt failed because she fell off the monitor again. I had to make a deal with her. If mommy was going to put all her pride aside and do this, she had to at least cooperate with me. Otherwise, I'd find some way to embarrass her in front of her friends when it came time. Another nurse came in to help reposition the monitor while my nurse stood in a corner saying, "ready, go!" The nurse was getting a bit frustrated because it was after 5 and I am sure she wanted to go home. "Are you going under your shirt? are you really getting in there?" I resisted the urge to say I was 35 years-old, I think I know how to stimulate my nipples by this point in my life.

During the second attempt my dad called. This was all just getting too creepy. I tried to just put it all out of my head. During the third attempt a friend called, a few voicemail alarms went off. And on the fourth attempt, my mom called. I think they were all having happy hour somewhere talking about how it must be a really bad time to call and they all butt-dialed me one by one.

Without me even knowing, I had three contractions in the ten minutes and the baby did fine through all of them. My two doctors spoke and decided to see me again on Friday and Monday but leave everything status quo for now. All I had to do was avoid laying or sleeping on my back (which shouldn't be that tough as I have avoided it for 9 months now) and count the baby's kicks. Again, not a problem because she's the Karate Kid inside there.

"Okay. Let me just take your blood pressure now," the nurse said. "I probably should have done it before we did all this."

You think. I shuddered to think it might actually be high considering what I just went through. 112/80, a bit high for me but nothing too scary. Needless to say, I could not hop off the table fast enough and go running for the bathroom. I didn't care that my swollen belly was exposed like some Bronx Mammi and my bra was completely unhooked. I went running down that hall so fast only to find an occupied bathroom. Unable to walk anymore to find another one, I just stood outside dancing until the occupant came out.

On the way home I called my mom and told her. She laughed like a lunatic. This must have been the payback she was waiting for since I was 4 and saw a man with no legs in Bloomingdales and proceeded to drop to my knees and scream across the store, "Look ma, I have no legs!"

Yup, apparently payback is going to be a bitch.

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