The Day You Were Born

Can you imagine being 9 months pregnant in the hottest month of the entire year? I’m talking record breaking temperatures. When I say I didn’t leave my air conditioned house, I actually didn’t leave. Ever. I was miserable. I had gained a whopping 55 pounds and nothing fit me. Scottie’s t-shirts didn’t even fit me, as my belly protrude through every article of clothing in both our closets. To say I was over being pregnant was an understatement. I wanted that baby out and I wanted her out yesterday.

On Saturday, October 20th, I woke up, still very pregnant, with my due date approaching closer and closer. I was due on October 30th, but I prayed I would go into labor before that. It was sweltering outside, like every other day, because I live in Florida, and Florida is freaking hot. My grandma was having a neighborhood-wide yard sale that day, and she needed help moving some things to her driveway. I honestly had no intention of doing anything helpful, because I was over 38 weeks pregnant. Well, my pregnant ass was lifting tables and mirrors, as I stood on my feet for hours sweating my booty off. I probably should not have been doing all that lifting, but I was secretly hoping it would put me into labor.

I got to a point where I was exhausted, sweaty, hungry, and just ready to sit on my butt at home. So I ordered myself Tijuana Flats with lots of jalapenos and ate until I wanted to explode. Then I decided to do what I did best while being pregnant: take a nap. I spent 90% of my pregnancy sleeping, and I don’t regret a single second of it. I was in bed, laying on my side of course, and was trying to clear my mind and drift off to sleep. All of a sudden, I felt a very slight pop in my lower belly. When I say slight, I mean I barely felt anything, but it was enough to make me aware. I honestly did not think anything of it. A few minutes later, I started feeling very mild cramps. Where these contractions? I felt a couple more, and wondered if I should start timing them. When I finally sat up about ten minutes later, a gush of liquid poured out of me. Holy shit.

My water broke everywhere. It was all over the bed, the floor. My heart was pounding. I tried so hard to keep my cool because I knew freaking out would not make anything better. I called Scottie so fast. I think I called him four times before he finally answered. “What’s up baby?” he said. “MY WATER BROKE,” I shouted. I heard his panic on the other end of the phone. “Holy shit! What do I do? What do I do? What do I do?” he repeated. “Get home now!” I told him. We were still on the phone together as he was gathering his things, trying to leave work as fast as he could. I heard him say, “Myla’s coming, bitch!” I’ll never forget that, it still makes me laugh.

I kept myself so calm and collected, as I waited for Scottie to get home. I finalized my hospital bag, changed the sheets on the bed, I even let my dogs outside to go potty. I was only going into labor, no big deal.

When Scottie finally got home about 25 minutes later, I was freaking ready. My contractions were becoming more intense, and everything was seriously starting to hit me. The drive to the hospital felt surreal. I had no idea what I was about to experience. We pulled up to vallet, hopped out of the car, and made our way up to the labor and delivery floor. I was filling out a registration form upon entering, and I couldn’t even think straight. They told us someone would be right with us, so we stood and waited for what seemed like forever. I felt like I was literally peeing my pants and could not control it. I remember Scottie getting pissed because no one was coming to get us. Didn’t they know I was going into labor? We saw someone come up from the elevator and walk right into the doors we were waiting to enter. “Fuck this” Scottie said, and stormed right through, demanding someone help us because I was about to have a baby. I admired Scottie for taking charge. He made sure I was taken care of.

After getting admitted and settled into the delivery room, I was only about 2.5 cm dilated, and almost completely effaced. I was given some pitocin, in hopes of speeding up the dilation. I was also given this pain medicine that made me feel like I was drunk. I had to wait for my epidural until I was further along in my labor. So we waited… and waited… and the contractions kept coming… and coming…

I was in so much freaking pain. It honestly felt like I was getting stabbed in the uterus every five minutes. When I finally got the epidural, which was honestly so awful, I was waiting for a rush of relief across my body. But nothing happened. I still felt every single contraction. What was going on? I complained. I told them how much pain I was still in, and that the epidural wasn’t working. So they had me press the red button, the button that’s supposed to deliver more medicine to your body. Well I pressed it, and nothing happened. I pressed it again and again. NOTHING. I felt every single contraction, every five minutes, as I dilated from 3 cm to 7 cm. It was unbearable. The nurses could see I was still in pain, so they ordered a second epidural. Mind you, this all took place over the course of like 15 hours.

When I finally got the second epidural, I was almost 8 cm dilated. I felt a sense of relief throughout my body, what I was supposed to have felt the very first time. My legs went numb, and so did the contractions. The only thing I could feel was pressure. Lots and lots of pressure. It was bearable, but extremely uncomfortably. There really is no better way to describe it than feeling like I was going to poop, everywhere.

When I finally reached 10 cm, I started to push. I thought I could give a couple hard pushes, and she would pop right out. I pushed, hard. But I was so…. tired. I pushed for an hour, and barely made progress. I felt so weak and discouraged. I was in pain from the discomfort. I was so close yet so far from meeting our baby and bringing her into the world.

I asked the nurse what would happen if I couldn’t push her out. She told me I would have to have a c-section. No fucking way.

I pushed harder than I’ve ever pushed before. I pushed so hard, out popped her head. One more push, then came the rest of her body, 20 hours later. It was thrilling. I heard her scream. Scottie was right by my head, squeezing my hand the entire time. The nurse placed our baby on my chest. Our beautiful Myla Rose was born at 2:26 pm weighing 7 lbs 2 oz and 20.5 inches long. We both started to cry, it was the most amazing moment of our lives. Scottie cut her umbilical cord, and the doctor stitched me up. Yes, stitched. But I didn’t even care, I was holding my perfect baby girl in my arms. October 21st, the best day of my entire life.

Nothing will ever compare to the moment my daughter was born.

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