…from a reader
I was two weeks overdue, but finally went into labor about 10:00 a.m. on a Wednesday morning, the 2nd of April. I was really glad it was not the 1st because that would have been an April Fool’s baby.
I called my husband at work first then I called my mother. My husband finally got home, it seemed like an eternity, and I was so bent over with pain, that my husband had to practically carry me to the car. Then on the way to the hospital I thought I would have the baby right in the car.
Finally, we reached the hospital. I had to stand up while trying to answer questions, and that was not easy. It was taking what seemed like forever to sign into the hospital and fill out forms. I just couldn’t wait any longer, so a staff member took me to a room while my husband filled out the rest of the paperwork.
I felt a relief when I got to lie down. But, it was a false feeling. The pains kept coming. About every 2-3 minutes, I would have labor pains. My husband stood at my side while I went through one, holding my hand as I squeezed his.
My mother came and they traded places each time I had a labor pain. I squeezed her hand so hard that she thought it was broken. This went on for hours. My doctor hadn’t showed up yet, and all I wanted was for the birth to be over. The nurses kept popping in and out saying he’s on his way, but I was getting so anxious that that became annoying and caused me more aggravation and the pain got more intense; something I could have done without.
Every once in a while I would get a hypo and the pain would melt away and I felt such a relief. Then it seemed like the pain would come back twice as hard as before, and I would ask for another hypo. But, they were stingy, said they could not give me that many. By now I was having pains a few minutes apart. Someone finally gets in touch with my doctor and he gets there around 8:00 p.m. He had been out playing golf all day and told the nurses that there was plenty of time.
Just about the time he reached my bedside, my water broke. It was time to take me into the delivery room. They did the usual prepping and I did the usual screaming. The doctor stands over me and told me too push. I was so exhausted that I didn’t think I had one more push in me. Finally, the baby comes rushing out. I felt a relief that you wouldn’t believe. No more pain, just happiness.
When I found out it was a boy, I was overjoyed. I always wanted a son. Right then and there, I knew I wasn’t going to go through this again. But, as my son started growing up, I regretted not having another child so that he wouldn’t be an only child. I still regret that today.
My son is 41 now. It is something I cannot undo now, but it might not be too late for others. If anyone has an only child right now, think about how that child has to grow up without someone he can share things with and someone he can play with, and just knowing he has someone he can count on. If I had it all over to do again, I would have given my son a brother or sister.