Have a baby.
Hot Jambalaya! I almost look and feel normal again, well, except for the leaky breasts, the purple puff bags under my eyes, and the not being able to sit in a chair for longer than 12 minutes.
So, do you want to hear my birth story?
I have to tell you about it because it makes me a bit of a hypocrite.
Yes, me. A hypocrite.
I had 12 hours of the most intense labor, and then I demanded the drugs.
I went into the whole labor process clear-minded and ready to experience the natural and beautiful gift of childbirth, with all the pains and sensations that go with it. I was excited, and a little nervous, but mostly excited.
Cut to me 12 hours later–
And I was done.
My body started to feel like it was being ripped apart. With each contraction that came on, I felt myself uncontrollably fight it, and I was unable to acquiesce to the work that my uterus was doing despite all the preparation I did before labor that taught me how to handle that type of pain. The room was black with agony, and my back, my legs, my abdomen all throbbed with fire.
My husband and doula tried to remind me that I wanted a natural birth, but that seemed such a miniscule notion in light of what I was going through: all I wanted was this baby out, and the pain to stop.
After the epidural I was happy again.
And then 9 oozy gooey hours later Hudson Jack was born.
12+9 = 21 hours of labor.
I thought second babies were supposed to come out faster?
The good news is I had a successful VBAC.
And a beautiful healthy baby!