Ok, so where was I? Oh yes, everyone came back after lunch. And they all looked like this:
The contractions were becoming more intense and the nurses had been telling me for the last few hours that I could have an epidural whenever. So when the nurse told me I could have the drugs anytime I wanted to, I felt like I should tough it out and experience "real" pregnancy pain. Like if I had it then, I would be missing out on something. Which is probably one of the dumbest thoughts I ever thunk. After a few more doozy's, I decided it was time for the good stuff. I had everyone leave the room except for Brad. The anesthesiologist came in, in all his red-headed glory. After signing all the papers dismissing liability of the hospital in case I became paralyzed because myself or the drug dr. sneezed and severed something or whatever, they shot it in me. God, there are so many dirty references during child birth. I am forever grateful that I was unable to see any of this being done and that it wasn't too horribly painful. But almost immediately, I could feel nothing from my udders down. No pressure, no movement, nothing. Not even when I pissed myself.
Nothing real exciting happened the next few hours. I had to have an internal and external heart monitor for the babies and they kept losing the "signal" on the external monitor, so they had to keep flipping me over. I felt like a pancake. During the course of these turns, I accidentally tooted, but played it cool. Don't look at me, I didn't do it. Those who felt it dealt it and I can't feel a thing. Then it dawned on me. If I couldn't feel that, what if I had been pooping this whole time? Dear lord, those poor nurses. I'll have to write them an apology note and send some candy. But not chocolate, I wouldn't want them to think I was mocking them.
The nurses kept coming in and checking to see how far my dilation had progressed and every time, it was hardly anything. Nothing was progressing and they kept upping the Pitocin. It was so disappointing because I thought I was doing good work but had no results. Like dieting.
It got later in the evening and everyone wanted to go out to eat. Again. Really guys, like you didn't already have TWO full meals and some snacks today?!? Don't you make me get up out of this bed. I will smack you with my IV hand. "It's ok" they said. "Watch some tv and rest" they said. "Monday Night Football is on" they said. Ok, it's cool, I'll rest with the babies trying to Kung Fu fight their way out. They all left and I turned on MNF, wondering who was playing. Hopefully it's not the Bears. Whew, it's the Eagles and they are playing the, NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO the Bears! Ugh, maybe I will try and sleep.
More and more time had passed with little to no progress. Everyone returned from eating and they brought my sister-in-law, Keri, with them. By this time, I was frustrated and upset that nothing was moving and that everyone kept asking "I wonder when will they be born? This is taking so long". The Pitocin was as high as it could go. My doctor finally showed back up, checked me and said she'd be back later.
After the entire day without progress, the doctor came in and told me that while I tried to have them naturally, it may be time to consider having a C-section. She told me, "You can continue to try to have them naturally, but I can't guarantee that you won't be in the same spot 12 hours from now". I told her I didn't want either option. She's smart, she's a doctor, I'm sure she could figure out another way.
We deliberated and decided we were going to go the C-section route. After this decision, things picked up pretty fast. Brad will try and convince you that the only reason I picked the C-section was because it was getting close to midnight and he had picked the 8th in the due date pool. This is not true, but it was an added bonus that he lost.
It was asked if I minded if my family could go into a room to see the girls being born. At that point, the film crew from "Jersey Shore" could have been in there and I wouldn't have cared. I was wheeled into surgery and prepped. The anesthesiologist came in and gave me an extra dose of pain meds, saying he was going to be my new best friend. I believe that it wasn't extra meds, but a shot of his ginger hair, which would explain the girls red hair. He also asked if I wanted some anti-nausea meds, which I declined because I felt fine. Approximately 3 minutes later, I began throwing up and took him up on his offer.
So this was it. I declined the offer to watch the surgery in the mirror for fear of passing out. My family didn't have that option. No one informed them or myself that the view they were going to get was of them cutting me open. They could see everything! But they were taking pulls from celebratory flasks, so I didn't feel too bad for them.
Once they started, it happened quickly. At twenty to twelve, they yanked Teagan out, with Caroline following a minute later. Of course, I had to act like a big girl and started crying after hearing Caroline cry. Brad got to see them first, but didn't watch as they were being taken out. He later told me he was terrified because Teags came out blue with a misshapen head. We later found out the reason why I hardly dilated was because Teagan was coming out forehead first and crooked. If you know her, it's not too hard to believe that. She does what she wants.
The rest of the night went as follows. Mom sees babies. Mom can only see part of babies, so assumes she birthed only 2 sets of eyes with no bodies. Dad takes babies out to hoard of people, who cannot touch said babies because Mom hasn't held them yet and will destroy anyone who tries to touch them first. Mom finally meets little ones up close. Mom almost suffocates Caroline while breastfeeding. But that's a different post. Mom gets compression socks and everyone falls asleep.
So that's their story. It wasn't too dramatic or eventful. They obviously changed our lives and were the best things to happen to us, blah blah. Leave a comment so I know if you liked it or not. Which I'm sure you will,because I'm awesome and humble.
