In Agony

I delivered BL about two weeks late (depending upon how strict you adhere to the due date). So I knew when I was pregnant with EPT that it could get interesting. Literally at every appointment, I said, "And you won't let me go A DAY past my due date, right?" To which the OB would roll his/her eyes.

Lo and behold, my due date came and there was no EPT. My due date was actually my nephew's birthday, so we decided to be induced the next day.

I had been walking around at two centimeters dilated for weeks and was still that when I checked in to the hospital at around 7:30 a.m. So I had a feeling it would take a long time. I even refused to fill out all of the forms that said the date of birth. My luck, I'd write it in pen and EPT would be born just after midnight. The nurses chuckled at us, but BFH and I knew better.

Around 6:00 that night, nearly 10 hours after the pitocin drip was started, I was still only four centimeters. I told my husband to hit the road and get something to eat after the nurse checked me. Two centimeters in ten hours. Awesome.

So since the tiny hospital had a very bad cafeteria, BFH walked across the street to a fast food restaraunt. I was alone in my room (epidural intact, thank God!) when I heard a big POOP. It was similar to the sound of a knuckle popping, but multiplied by 10. I didn't feel anything, but it was... an alarming noise to say the least.

Nurses came racing in the room. They had lost EPT's heartbeat. I said, "Um. Did something just break," in my sarcastic tone but no one responded. A nurse checked me and I was 10 centimeters. We had to race to call in the doctor and BFH (who had just paid for his meal and came racing back with a burger in his coat pocket!). EPT was born after just 7 minutes of pushing.

An hour and a half later, I was walking down the hall getting us both coffee. It had been a long day. But I felt fine. I was a little groggy and I walked with a slight limp. But geesh. I just gave birth to a baby!

For weeks, I kept telling myself that of course I hurt - I had a baby! But it was getting worse. I couldn't get out of bed myself. Climbing stairs hurt. I just had a lot of pain. So I went back to the OB who sent me to an orthopedist.

X-rays confirmed that the POP was actually my pelvis separating. No wonder EPT came out so fast!

Now, 17 months later, I have had to wear a sexy compression belt, have had one surgery to remove a benign tumor (basically a lump of tissue and fat that had nowhere else to go when everything spread) and I sit in agony.

I am supposed to go three times a week for traction. My disk at L5/S1 is out and hitting nerves. An EMG confirmed that I have nerve damage on my right side and the nerves are being damaged as we speak (read, write?).

I drove over an hour to see a neurosurgeon who said that I could have surgery, but it would be just as effective epidural pain management. I then drove nearly an hour to meet the pain doctor who said he didn't understand why the neurosurgeon was not going aggressive if there was already nerve damage.

So here I sit. In pain, taking vicodin, sitting with a heating pad, taking hot baths. In pain. In pain.

I have reached frustration. I know that I can't live like this. But I have two boys (3 if you count my hubby!) and I need to just survive every day. So here I sit.