You know that moment when you bring your first born home and you’re feeling a little overwhelmed and scared but you put on a brave face and say, “I’ve got this”. That was me, I totally thought I had the situation under control.
I had babysat a ton as a teenage and let’s face it, actually by the age of ten. ‘Back in the day’, you started babysitting as soon as you could make a PB&J. I had been around babies and children my whole life, I really thought it was going to be a smooth transition. Well, my body and my baby had other plans.
My first surprise and change in plan came during labor. My original birth plan was for a peaceful, natural labor, where my sweet husband would rub my lower back during contractions and coach me through the breathing exercises. My mom gave birth naturally, 3 different times, and literally told me it was no big deal. I thought it was going to be a piece of cake and it was just what you did.
What really happened, after pushing for 7 freaking long and painful hours, I decided that a ‘natural’ birth was for die hard maniacs and I desperately wanted an epidural.
Another surprise during labor was, apparently I don’t want anyone rubbing my fucking back, actually, I don’t want anyone fucking touching me! But since it was part of our birthing plan, and wanting to stick with the plan, my sweet husband kept trying.
I had to threaten him with body harm if he touched me again. I think that was when we knew that we were in uncharted territory. All the planning and book reading and past experiences did not prepare us for what was about to happen.
I got an epidural, it took two different doctors to get it done but with more threatening and crying, it was in and working! My husband and I looked at each other once we had all calmed down and said, ‘what the hell just happened?!’
We were both shell shocked and now scared sh*tless at what was about to happen……