They Gave Me the Good Stuff

When I was pregnant (don't worry this one's not going to turn in to a Fiona story, at least not really) I was extremely nervous about the entire process of getting the baby out. I never liked the idea of giving birth but accepted it as necessary if you want to have kids (well your own kids, believe me I considered adoption).

You see I've never broken a bone, never had a tooth pulled (heck never had a cavity), never had a serious injury or medical procedure. I was (and frankly still am) a lightweight when it comes to pain. Although I think it's the anticipation of the pain that was the real problem after all I've had my ears pierced 4 times, 1 tattoo, and my belly button pierced (which hurt way more than the tattoo, faster though).

So I was actually a little relieved when it turned out that I was having a c-section (no way I can spell the actually name) because Fiona was trying to come out butt first. I was not fooled in to thinking it would be painless but it would be shorter and I could schedule it which cut out that whole anticipation thing.

The fact that I've never dealt with major pain before also meant that I'd never dealt with major pain killers before so I couldn't give them any hints as to how I'd react. The Dr's made a judgement call and gave me what they thought was best, Morphine. In short they shot me up with pure Heroin and I can tell you I see why people get addicted to that stuff. The sad result was the night my daughter was born they gave me the pain killers and then the nurse was helping Dave change a diaper (he didn't need it but that's her job). I felt it hitting as I watched them and then I said quite clearly, " I am so stoned". I think the nurse actually laughed. I had to wait until I came down a little to hold Fiona because I was afraid I'd drop her.

The moral of this story (for me at least) is if I have any more kids or major surgeries to ask them to skip the Morphine because that was more than I needed in a pain killer.