Katarine wrote:
I may be weird, but I refuse to have an epidural. The idea of a needle going into my spine is less apealing than any labor pains.
I say that now, however, having never experianced it. I figure I'll take the class just in case, heh.
Ok: Nexa before giving birth said: "I may be weird, but I refuse to have an epidural. The idea of a needle going into my spine is less apealing than any labor pains." almost verbatim, I kid you not. I said this for nine months straight. I hate needles, I don't want them.
Cut to hospital room. The only ones in the room are me and hubby. Nurses are giving us our privacy between checks (just outside the door though). I have been given anti-puking medicine that has made me loopy. I have a very very strong contraction. Then I have another one. Then I (in my delirium) think, "I need an epidural before I have another one of those."
Now understand, that by the time the doc gets there to administer an epidural, and by the time it kicks in...at LEAST 20 minutes would have gone by, and my contractions are less than 2 minutes apart. I can't reconcile this in my head, but I feel that somehow, my desire to have an epidural immediately working is not going to work out for me.
I whisper to hubby, "I want an epidural." The ever supportive husband, who recognizes that I'm not quite myself and simply wants to be sure that I know what I'm saying after nine months of saying exactly the opposite looks at me and quietly says, "Are you sure you want an epidural?"
"Yes, I want an epidural."
"An epidural? You want an epidural? You're sure."
At this point I feel another contraction start and decide that my husband is the enemy and will leave me here to die without an epidural...the only thing that can save me from agonizing death. I begin to yell for the nurses to save me!
"HELP HELP HELP HELP HELP ME HELP ME HELP HELP!!!"
My husband begins running around the bed and in a sweet and panicking tone begins trying to shoosh me with, "it's ok honey, we'll get you an epidural, it's alright, we'll get one right away, I'll find the doctor sweetie, it's going to be ok."
I stare at him as I continue yelling. It's like four a.m. and everyone on the ward is now awake and listening to me scream for help like I'm being murdered. I'm betting it wasn't the first time by how calmly (but quickly) the nurses entered and reassured me that the epidural guy was on his way up.
Nexa