April 29, 2003

I awoke the morning of Tuesday, April 29th, around 2am, with an urgent desire to go to the bathroom. For the last 8 months, the urgency always was intense as I made the first pit stop of the night. I know, the reality of the situation may turn off some of you readers, but it’s the truth. This time as I went to flush, I noticed a red mucousy thing floating in the toilet. Yes! Having a baby isn’t as pretty as Hollywood portrays it. It’s all blood and pain. That’s reality. So in my mind, I’m screaming out, BLOOD! What the hell is wrong with me? Then when the pain in my stomach coincides with my bewilderment do I realize I’m in labor. I check the books I’ve bought to double check my instincts as well as all the pamphlets and paperwork the nurses have been sending home with me. MUCOUS PLUG! Check. Early Sign of Active Labor. HOORAY! My daughter is on her way.

Layla was already a week late and the weight of my pregnant belly was becoming too much for me to handle and be comfortable with. The day before I was walking the mall and had to make many breaks and my ankles were at an all-time swollen, that I just didn’t even bother to look anymore.

So what does my pregnant self do? Do I start timing my contractions? Nope. Do I wake up Derek? Nope. Do I lie down to get some much-needed rest? Nope. I started cleaning up my bathroom. I started freaking out that my newborn baby was coming home to a dirty bathroom. I started wiping down the bathroom counter and sink. Freaking out that it wasn’t getting clean enough to satisfy my crazy pregnant lady self. After buckling over in pain from the contractions do I decide to go have a seat on the couch and call the hospital? I wanted to check if I should come in right away or just wait for my appointment, which was scheduled at 8am that morning. I already knew the answer and sure enough the nurses said to wait it out. That’s IHS for you! You would think they would try to get me there so they could start charging me for services, but nope stay home until you’re ready to push!

So I sit down and start timing the contractions. But let me tell you a secret…I do not have a high tolerance for physical pain so the contractions were getting the best of me, even when they were 10 minutes apart. I still didn’t bother Derek because I already knew he couldn’t do anything. Hell, I was just breathing and praying to God that I would survive this.
I jumped into the shower to ease the pain I was feeling in my back. The pain was bad and I just wished I had a massage therapist at my beck and call to get me through. After a long time in the shower, I decided to start packing my bag for the hospital and then I heard Derek. You should lie down and try to get some rest. So I did.

There is no way to get comfortable and go to sleep when you’re in active labor. So I got back up and walked around. Breathing and half crying. Then around 5am I decided to get back in the tub for a bath. The pain in my back was excruciating by this time. After about 45 minutes I got up and by then Derek was up. He started trying to call my mom, who was staying at my brother’s apartment for the night that my labor began. We started making our way to the hospital. By this point, I was in so much pain, the bumps in the road were irritating and for lack of another word…PAINFUL! I remember yelling at Derek about driving better. When you're in labor, you feel every bump on the road. Ones you didn't even know existed before.

When we got to the hospital and the nurses checked me in I was hurting so bad. I don’t really remember what they were saying to me. I just remember having enough in me to answer their questions. When the doctor came in to check how dilated I was…he said you’re only at 4cm. “Why don’t you go out to eat and come back later?”

I couldn’t believe it. But we obeyed the doctor’s orders and my mom, Derek, Loren, and Jalyn took me to IHOP. By the time we got seated I couldn’t even open my eyes. I was just breathing to myself and taking directions from everyone. I was trying to concentrate on not passing out at IHOP. From what I remembered the waiting staff was looking at my family like they were crazy. The waitress saying, “Shouldn’t you be taking her to the hospital by now?” “She’s not going to give birth right here, right?” I didn’t even want to eat what was ordered for me. I just wanted to get this baby out.

My mom, in her soft nature self, was trying to calm me and rub my belly. I snapped, “DON’T TOUCH MY STOMACH!”

FINALLY they drove me back to the hospital and they finally took me. I got stuck at 6cm. Like I said I have such a low tolerance of physical pain and my way of dealing is by tensing up my body. So that’s exactly what I was doing. By body was so tense I wasn’t allowing it to dilate like it was supposed to. At 3pm the nurses and midwives finally decided that an epidural would be in my best interest.

I really don’t remember anything about it except being told to bend forward and don’t move. Derek was holding onto me and he was too busy trying to look at the needle while holding me that he moved me a little while the needle was going in that IT HURT and my natural instinct….I BIT HIM ON THE SHOULDER! They ended up having to start over and the first attempt was unsuccessful. So they had to take it out and do it again. When it finally worked, the world was a great place again and I finally took a nap. FACT: An epidural is a long needle that is inserted into your spine and then they push a catheter up your spine to give you medication to numb your body.

While I napped, Loren took Derek out for lunch. The nurses reassured my family it would be a few hours before I would be dilated enough to start pushing. By then, my aunt had driven from Window Rock to Phoenix and sitting in the labor room with me.

I screamed and showed so much pain that my youngest brother, Jalyn left with a friend of ours in seconds. This kid was very shy around new people and hardly knew Troy. But not today. He was like “I’m out!” He didn't come back to see me for 24 hours when I was "normal."

Within one hour of the epidural, I had dilated all the way to the necessary 10cm and woke up feeling the pain all over again. My aunt, the family midwife, got up and called for the nurses. Sure enough I was ready to push. My mom was on the phone telling Derek to hurry back.
By 5pm, I was pushing. I looked up and saw the mirror they place at the foot of the bed, the reflection showed my brother, Loren, standing in the corner with a ghost white face. He was trying to ask if there was a way for the mirror to be moved so he didn’t see anything. I think he almost passed out because at one moment all the medical staff were paying more attention to him than to me. Finally he was like “I’m OUT!” Later he told us he left the room and ran to the bathroom and threw up. He also confessed to being seconds away from punching Derek for putting me in this state of pain.

When I was told to do so, I PUSHED. I pushed with everything I had. 6pm passed. 7pm passed and still I pushed. I thought this was the easy part, but boy was I ever wrong. I was crying for them to just cut me open and take her out because I was so exhausted. I almost passed out on the table. FINALLY at 7:50PM, Layla popped out. Literally. It happened so fast that Derek had to help catch his daughter because the midwife almost missed. Layla was huge! 8lbs, 10 oz. But she was also beautiful! I was too tired to really pay much attention at this point. I just waited for the words; she’s healthy before I just laid back. I even managed to take some pictures that I really don't remember taking.

Whoever said that was the end of childbirth is a liar. Next I had to push out the placenta. Since Layla was so huge I also tore. Yup, the vagina is capable of tearing. So I was one of those lucky women who got stitches DOWN there. Then they cleaned me up and told me I was probably anemic from how much blood I lost from this birthing process. Then they let in whoever wanted to see the new baby. Because really, that's why they came. Not to see the battered mother, but the precious baby who just entered the world.

I just remember seeing Layla in the arms of her dad. Tears in his eyes. Her grandma, Norma, who cried through the entire process to be honest got her turn next. Then her Nonnie. And her uncle Loren. They were all there. Even Derek’s dad was there. By chance. I couldn’t wait to get some sleep. It was exhausting day!

My last thought: why would anyone want to do this, willingly?