November 2, 1998

Going on day 3 of labor...

By this point I was done.  I was so out of it.  If I was numb, I was sleeping.  If I was in pain, I was crying.  I don't know that I ever worried.  I don't remember worrying that my baby would be in trouble.  I never cried because I was scared.  I cried because I was in pain... exhausted.

That evening the hospital surprised me with a birthday cake.  Really?  I couldn't eat it!  The whole "it's the thought that counts" saying SUCKS.  If they were thoughtful, they would have handed me a card.  Not brought in a cake for everyone to eat in front of my face.  Happy 21st Birthday!!!  Now watch me eat your cake.  

Jerks!!!  (but I'm not still bitter or anything)

Also, throughout this day, the doctors talked a lot about what the plan was.  Do we take the baby?  Is mom in enough distress yet?  How is the baby looking on the monitor?

I let the doctors know that wasn't an option.  Today was MY day.  I've always loved my birthday.  I wouldn't let them even consider delivering the baby on my day!!

By nightfall on day 3 I was having extreme breathing difficulties.  I complained to the nurse on shift that night and was blown off.  I was hooked up to those little finger pulse oximeter thingies and it read in the 90's.  Therefore, I must have been alright?

Wrong.

(to be continued....)