Monday, February 1, 2010

In the tradition of "mommy blogs" ... my birth stories.

I just figured out why I, a woman of 52 years of age, am so interested in birth stories on the millions and millions of mommy blogs. 

It's cause I don't remember hardly anything of my 2 son's births. 

With SonOne's birth, I remember someone calling me "Mrs. PoohHead" while in the labor room.  I was furious that they were calling me my mother-in-law's name.  Then I was furious because I thought they must be saying her name because she was in the labor room with me.  This was back in the day before they let every Tom, Dick and Harry in to watch the miracle of birth, and I did not want any parts of my hoo-ha seen by the even the doctor or the damn nurses - much less mother-in-laws. 

Finally, it dawned on me that because I was married to my mother-in-law's son... I was also a "Mrs. PoohHead". 

I remember that it was a long birth, and a nurse putting her elbow on my belly and lifting her feet off the floor so that all her weight was on my belly "to push the baby down". 

And days later, walking into a bank, seeing the "Push" sign on the bank door, and having flashbacks of giving birth. 

With Jacob's birth, I had an emergency C-section, at 8 months, because the ultrasounds showed severe Hydrocephalus.  As they put me out, someone said they were expecting "a monster". 

I remember, as I woke up, being wheeled from somewhere to somewhere, seeing my soon to be ex-husband's bare legs underneath a hospital gown walking into a room full of beeping noises.  Later, I realized he wasn't naked under the hospital gown, he was wearing shorts, and he had just arrived from Osh Kosh, Wisconsin (truck driver) and he was walking into NICU, to see Jacob for the first time. 

I remember begging the nurses not to let him name my baby boy "Jennifer". 

I remember the odd or the difficult, evidently.  But of the process of the miracle of birth? Don't remember a thing.  I don't remember either babies until they were at home. 


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