A funny thing happened to me on the way to the forum

I wrote this one day after giving birth to my first child. (Their birthday is Nov 28th, so this was sixteen years ago.) Now they are taller than me, argues like a lawyer, and is so very sweet.

I want to thank everyone for the kind words, congratulations and compliments. (He is one adorable little monkey. And he makes the funniest noises.)

What can I say, except that was certainly a party and a half. (okay the contractions were not a party and a half but that is another conversation requiring scotch and visual aids) I went in Monday to begin the process of induction by having two doses of Misoprostol. (A drug I later found to be pretty darn controversial when I looked it up on the internet.) The plan was to then come in Tuesday morning between 6–8 am to do pitocin and hopefully get on the road to having a baby. As my doctor said, “yeah you should be having your baby on Tuesday evening hopefully.”

I receive those two doses and things progress as they should and I am having some contractions. Nothing significant. (I hilariously recall thinking at the time, “Hey this isn’t half bad, I think I can handle this.”) The nice people (and I want to say the nursing staff at Swedish Hospital are terrific people. I want to send them a fruit basket) send me home and say, “there is a small possibility the contractions could increase, so give us a call if something comes up. otherwise we will see you in the morning.”
You may begin to laugh a bit.
So we go home, have some soup and cheese on toast. Watch a little TV. I am still having some contractions but they ease up when I take a bath. Again I think, “hey this isn’t too bad. I will just do my breathing.” We go to bed. Somewhere around midnight I am being woken up by some serious contractions.* They are about five minutes apart, I begin by doing various activities to see if they will slow up a bit. Oh no they don’t. In fact they begin to increase to three minutes apart. Hilarity ensues.
So we chat with the doctor and make our way up scary icy hills to the hospital at one thirty in the morning.**
Initially they hook you up to a monitor where for giggles you can watch a specific number that indicates the rise and fall (and strength) of your contractions. It is a bit like watching a large wave come towards you. “Oh no…here it comes.” You take solace in a low low number and try and rest. Eventually they decide to admit me. I am sure in rational person land it wasn’t a long wait but in contraction land it felt longer.
In my swank labor/delivery suite I hopped into the jacuzzi. Mr. Jenner stayed very quiet. The contractions they grew stronger and frankly they were taking the fun out of the jacuzzi.
After I got out, things became interesting. I began to perform a one-woman production of The Exorcist. The contractions weren’t being civilized. They were piled on top of one another and so that whole “plan” we were taught about resting in between each contraction left town.
This is where my nurse wins major points from me and I will forever love and adore this lady. She asked if I wanted pain killers, and I said, “Oh sweet Jesus yes.” (Folks there ain’t no shame in having drugs, because the Lord Jesus gave us those drugs for a reason: to use them) She told me the doctor wanted to wait until I hit 4 centimeters but my nurse said, “But I am going negotiate for three.”
Things became hazy at this point. I now realize what the seventies must have been like for a number of rock stars and actors. I am lying in this strange bed, saying incoherent things, and waiting for my score. I suspect Ravi Shankar and Patti Boyd were hanging out with me at one point.
I have this faint memory of saying out loud to no one in particular, “Use Photoshop that’ll ugly them up.” (I think I had this idea in my head that I was the editor of In Touch magazine -we will never be sure) The nurse was taking some information (potential allergies to medication, my height, likes/dislikes, long walks on the beaches…again all very fuzzy) and I really could have told her I was the Aga Khan for all I know.
It took a couple of tries to get the epidural to work. (somehow the first attempt didn’t quite work, but the man who did the procedure worked fast and was very nice, even when I yelled the word fuck, a lot) The contractions were the greatest just before the drugs kicked in. 2 minute contractions followed by thirty seconds of rest. And why yes I did scream like a banshee and genuinely bit a pillow because my body was attempting to tear itself apart. Then the saving grace that is the epidural took effect and no one had to die at my hands. Again Mr. Jenner stayed very quiet and was a brave brave man. Great birthing partner I must say.
So after that I was high as a kite and I rested. and I itched.*** Various nurses examined me (And let me tell you after giving birth -My modesty has retired for life. No retirement tours or anything)
In the space of a few hours I went from 1.5 to 10, somehow my water broke without me noticing it (Now I know how Brian Wilson feels a lot of the time) and they told me, “hey guess what you are going to push out a baby in a few hours. Since it is your first it will probably take two or three hours.”
There was a great deal of rushing about like people were about to put on a show. A doctor showed up, people got into place and I then somehow managed to push out a baby in under an hour. Don’t ask me how that happened.
It was such a surprise to be shown a baby. “Why look at that!” They tidied him and warmed him up and when they told me his weight I blanched. I looked at the nurse and said, “Where the hell did I hide that much baby?”**** Big baby, fairly long and a giganto head. Definitely my kid.
The first meal I had after the birth was a grilled cheese sandwich and a milkshake. Nothing has ever tasted so good.
I must give a lot of credit to the nurses as Swedish Hospital. These are some of the most professional, kind, hip people around and I swear nothing makes them bat an eyelash. Plus they obviously love getting to hold new babies a lot.

Senor Onion is pretty entertaining. As much as a floppy-headed newborn who poops a lot can be. (editor’s note: still one of the most entertaining kids.)

• *I was having a dream when the contractions began. I still remember being in the shallow part of an ocean. The water was strangely coloured and every single time the waves hit my body it hurt. It turns out those waves were contractions.
• ** The day before it had become very cold and that afternoon an ice storm befell Seattle. It was so bad that people were stuck on the freeway and were abandoning their cars. All of the roads from our house went up steep hills so it was a feat that we made it up the hills.
• *** I have a life long response to just about every pain relief -I itch.
• **** Those who have known me when I was pregnant, can tell you that I HIDE babies. I didn’t even show with my first one until I was about six months along.