Another Birth Memory

First of all, THANK YOU to everyone who commented on yesterday's post about preschools. I value and appreciate all your input.  I am glad for different viewpoints because it's easy to get hung up on one perspective.  So thank you!  I will keep you updated on what ends up happening.  :)

Okay, on to today's post.

Last night, I was nursing Mara to sleep in the rocking chair.  It was dark and quiet in the room, no sound except the white noise machine she sleeps with making the sound of gentle rain.  She had fallen asleep nursing, but I didn't want to move just yet.  I found myself thinking about the nighttime and how lonely it can sometimes feel to be awake at night.  (Mind you it was only like 8:30pm but it was completely dark.)  Thinking about that lonely, middle-of-the-night feeling brought back a sudden, strong memory from the night Mara was born.

My water broke at 8:00pm on Saturday, November 22nd.  We finally made it to the hospital about 9:30pm.  After taking ages to ascertain whether my water had indeed broken (there was really no question), they were cleaning the room so it wasn't until about 11:30pm that I was even admitted officially.  The pitocin was started at about 12:15am on Sunday, November 23rd.  The nurses and the doctor advised Corky and me to try and get some sleep before things really took off.

I couldn't sleep, but Corky did.  He slept from about 12:45am until about 4:30am.  Those 3 hours and 45 minutes were some of the longest, loneliest, most painful hours of my life.  The pain didn't hit like a ton of bricks, rather it was a gradual increase of pain, but by about 2:00am I was in serious pain.  The contractions were strong, long in duration and came close together.  (Any moms who have been there wince at the sight of the word "pitocin".  I know I do.)

The nurse would pop in to check on me every now and then, but I was largely on my own for those hours.  The time ceased to exist, actually.  I felt as though I was in an ocean of pain - tossed around, upside down and drowning in waves of pain.  Then up to the surface and I barely had time to catch my breath before another wave would come and sweep me away again.  And through all those agonizing minutes, Corky slept. 

I remember feeling somewhat affronted that he would sleep through this and leave me to deal with this horrendous pain on my own.  But at the same time, I had told him to sleep.  For one thing, there wasn't anything he could do for me anyway and for another, one of us needed to have our faculties about us for the following day, as it was apparent that this could potentially be a long labor.  God knows I wasn't going to be very sane for very long at that rate.  So while I was somewhat miffed that he was sleeping, I was glad at the same time.

Also, I think a part of me didn't want him to see me in pain like that.  Although he did end up seeing it because by 4:30am I woke him up with my whimpers of, "ow, ow, owwwwww. I'm okay, I'm okay, I'm okay."

Even as a child, I hated to be the only one awake at night.  Staying up all night, unable to sleep, was a very real fear of mine up until I was in my early teens.  To this day, I'm not sure what made that such a scary idea.  I just always hated it.  I guess I felt like I was the only person alive in the world when everyone else was asleep and I wasn't.  Not totally rational but scary nonetheless.

All that pain was totally worth it though.  That little girl is my world.  She's upstairs sleeping now... I always miss her when she's in bed. :)