Wednesday, April 7, 2010

Mexican Food Poisoning

At this time six years ago, I still carried my firstborn in my womb ... I had just enjoyed a delicious meal on the outdoor patio of my favorite Mexican restaurant, a long walk in the park by our house, a foot rub with a yummy peppermint lotion by my mom, and was relaxing comfortably, chatting on the phone with a teaching colleague. I was anticipating an early bedtime, knowing I would have a long day the next day, supervising the senior class trip to a Cardinals baseball game in St. Louis. It was my due date, and Nick was still trying to talk me out of riding the bus to the game and to ride in the car instead.
At 11 p.m., exactly one hour after going to bed, I awoke to the most horrible back pain I've ever felt -- well, I'd felt it one other time a month earlier. And after embarrassing myself by going to the hospital and being sent home when the pain stopped upon arriving at the hospital, I assumed that it was, again, muscle spasms in my back. I couldn't lie still, so I went downstairs so I wouldn't wake Nick up. As soon as I got downstairs, the onslaught of diarrhea began -- I was cussing the nice Hispanic gentlemen who worked at El Maguey, certain they'd given me food poisoning. I tried several times to crawl up the stairs on my hands and knees, only to be quickly relegated back to the downstairs bathroom for another "episode." For over half an hour, I was loudly calling, "Nick! Mom! Help me!" Nothing. Except a battle of snoring from upstairs.

Finally, I made it back up the stairs and caught my mom in a lighter sleep cycle, I suppose, because she finally came to. She sprayed warm water on my back for about an hour in the shower, but when the pain didn't stop, she said to Nick, "I think you need to get your clothes on. We're going to the hospital." I will never forget his face.
I tried to talk them out of it because it was the same pain I felt the month before, and I didn't want to get the "You're a first-time mom" treatment again. It certainly never crossed my mind that I was in labor. Wow!
After standing outside of the garage in a very cool April night for almost half an hour, Nick comes out and says, "Well, there's been a change of plans." Finally, he believes me that I don't really need to go to the hospital, just a dose of anti-diarrhea medicine. No, the hospital was full. Nick had called ahead, and they sent us to another hospital because there wasn't one single bed for me. They said I'd have to have the baby in the lobby if we showed up there. But, I wasn't having a baby yet, so it really didn't matter. I just needed to satisfy Nick and my mom, get a muscle relaxer for my back, get back home and get some sleep before tomorrow morning.

After running a stop light, a stop sign, and missing the entrance to the hospital, we arrived at the hospital. The nurse was giving me that pursed lip, you're-wasting-my-time look because I said I didn't need a wheelchair in the elevator up to L&D. Now, didn't her face change when she checked me and said that I was 9 cm and that I should not, no matter what, push!

Just a short bit later, my precious Abigayle Grace was born! What a beauty! My first thought about her was that her lips looked like a perfectly shaped heart. I still love to kiss those little lips! Those long, dark eyelashes! And those fat little thighs! And that round, bald head!

4 comments:

Matt said...

I'm so grateful that you brought this little ball of energy and sass into our family! Happy Birthday, Abs!

Daks Drennan said...

So precious! You are da woman! 9 cm and no time for and epi? That spells nightmare for me!

Cori said...

Such a wonderful memory :o) I remember that "quick" drive to Columbia in the middle of the night. Happy Birthday, sweet girl! Aunt Cori loves you so very much!

meeksmiles33 said...

I love these stories! They are the best!