I realized last night that I haven't actually watched a "birth video." Tim watched one when poking around the online materials for our Prepared Childbirth/Lamaze class, and there are countless videos available on the internet, but I haven't watched one and don't intend to. The reason for this is two-fold: I don't handle stuff like that well, and I've witnessed a live delivery.
I shall explain.
When I say "I don't handle stuff like that well," I'm not kidding around. In eighth grade, we watched a video in home ec (I have no idea why) about liposuction (it was actually a segment of Geraldo that we were watching). I got really light-headed and dizzy and asked to go to the restroom. The hallway blacked out and the bathroom was spinning as I crumpled in a cold sweat against the bathroom wall. As my blood pressure returned to normal, I recovered, but it was my first brush with "I don't handle stuff like that well."
Similar events happened while discussing dislocated shoulders in ninth-grade health class, watching a video of wisdom tooth removal (it was required by insurance that I be aware of what would be happening to me, although I think I should have just remained in the dark) the summer after high school, getting a cyst on my foot x-rayed in college and getting my eyes examined the summer after college. It had gotten to the point where all someone needed to do was vividly describe a medical procedure and my blood pressure would drop, I'd break in to a cold sweat, the room started spinning and I would black out. Not exactly a fun way to live, and I *have* gotten better, but even my coworkers know that a photo of a bloodied hockey player's mouth could sent me sweating and desperately trying to stay conscious.
The best part? Tim is very much like me in this way. Not triggered by the same things, but he's had the same thing happen a few times. I've already informed my friend Traci that she may need to be at the hospital simply so a non-medical professional is conscious for the birth of our child.
So how on earth did *I* manage to witness a live delivery?
I think adrenaline kicks in for me in times of crisis. If Tim was gushing blood, I don't think I'd pass out - I think I'd go on auto-pilot and handle the situation. I hope I never have to find out, but that is pretty much what happened when I saw my mom deliver my youngest brother, Doug.
Doug, at left, was our family's "surprise" baby. My older sister was 20 and my younger brother, nicknamed Yogi, was 15 when we found out that Mom was pregnant. It wasn't planned, but it was pretty exciting, and I, especially, enjoyed the fact that Mom and Dad would not be empty nesters any time soon. I was heading in to my senior year of high school and wasn't excited that Mom and Dad were having a baby right as I was heading off to college, but luckily I ended up going to college near (but not too near) home and was able to spend a lot of Doug's younger years close by.
On a Friday night in mid-January, Yogi and I were at the high school playing in our high school's pep band as the basketball team played a conference rival. Around 9 p.m., my mom's best friend, who lives near the high school, walked up the bleacher steps and told our band director that we needed to leave - our mom's water had broken.
The cheerleaders - many of whom were friends of ours and knew that the baby could arrive any day - saw us gathering our stuff to leave and cheered.
Yogi and I drove home and found our mom and dad still there - they were waiting for us before leaving for the hospital. We got to the hospital, and Dad and Yogi hung out in the waiting room. My mom had never had any family members present during the delivery of her first three children, and I was the first non-medical professional that she allowed in the room, which was pretty cool.
At 11:50 p.m., Doug was born.
Here is what I remember:
* Jay Leno was on the TV when Doug was born.
* My mom had an oxygen mask on, and for the first time in my life, I heard her say she "couldn't do it." I remember thinking, "Uh, Mom, you kinda have to" and wondering what the doctors would do if she really couldn't do it.
* My mom - who didn't have an epidural - pushed for about 15-20 minutes.
* The medical staff left the curtains open on window at the end of the hospital bed "in case we wanted to watch." It served as a mirror to what was going on with Doug's birth. Mom didn't want to watch. I wanted to remain conscious, so I decided it was best if I didn't watch, too.
* Mom thought that Doug sounded like a goat when he first cried.
So you see, I've witnessed a live delivery, but I don't remember any of the gory details or the particulars. I don't even remember how long we all stayed at the hospital after the birth - I just remember spending a lot of time there that weekend (photo above is from his first full day in the hospital) and being afraid to pick Doug up because he was so tiny.
And it is probably better that I don't remember everything - whenever and however Elle decides to arrive, I think the details will be a blur, and any pain, discomfort, fear, etc. will be temporary. The main thing is she'll be here. And when I get freaked out about labor and delivery, I focus on that - soon, we'll have our own little goat. I don't need to see every aspect of a birth - it is something that has been happening since the beginning of time. I understand the logistics. But the end goal is what my blood-pressure challenged, dizzy mind is set on.
