I have three labor day stories to share. Two are labor as in child birth stories and one is job related.
Story #1. I was 38 weeks pregnant with Arthur and it was days away from Halloween. On this particular October evening , I started having what I thought were pains from needing to 'go', but I couldn't 'go'. I alternated sitting on the toilet seat for an hour at a time (straining with all my might, I might add) with walks in the neighborhood, taking baths, eating leafy green vegetables, and just pacing. I was only 20 years old and still a 'baby' myself. Finally, at 5:00 am in the morning, I saw blood. I called my obstetrician who said I should probably get myself to the hospital. My young husband (19 years old) drove like a bat out of you-know-where in our little brown Chevy LUV truck (LUV truck - LOL!) and I am sure all the bouncing around on that seat help speed along my labor. As soon as they wheeled me into the delivery room I asked for my epidural. As scared of needles as I am, I was begging for that one! After that, I never felt a thing. I had already dilated to 10cm and ten hours later, Arthur was born. She started crying as soon as her head popped out and before they could finish pulling her whole body out, and didn't stop for nearly ten months. (She had colic.) She was bald as an onion and as she lay on my chest her big blue eyes searched my face. She had pale skin and a round pumpkin head. I fell in love with her instantly. That night I dreamed (not sure it was a dream, to be truthful) I died. I went towards the light and almost into the arms of a figure with outstretched arms, flowing white robe, and in a light so bright I do not have words to describe it. I realized that I was about to leave my newborn baby and expressed that I'd really like to get to know her first. Then I was sucked backwards through the 'tunnel' so quickly all I saw where blurs of light all around me. When I 'came to' I rang for the nurse who came in and held my hand and helped bring my 103 degree F fever down to normal. It was probably just a dream. But sometimes I can't help but wonder if I almost died on the day Arthur was born.
Story #2. Almost 9 years ,a divorce and re-marriage later, a bit more mature version of myself prepared for the arrival of Courage. I had went to the doctor on two occasions and announced 'I am pregnant', but their tests said otherwise. But I knew I was. I waited another week and took a home test and it was positive. Arthur and I danced a celebration jig in the kitchen before we called Hubster! At 40 weeks I went for a regular visit and my obstetrician said I was dilated 3 cm. He told me to meet him at the hospital the next morning and we'd have ourselves a baby. The next day he scratched out the 'plug' with his fingernail and told me I'd go into labor soon. He insisted on an enema and after an hour and half of sitting on the toilet I understood why. After a couple of hours of painless labor I thought 'This is a piece of cake'. The third hour I changed my tune, asking for the epidural, which the doctor promptly informed me I was too far along in labor and couldn't have it now. After one particularly painful contraction and a long howl that emitted from me, my doctor growled, 'If you'd stop whining and push, we'd have this baby'. I drew my foot back, heel tensied and poised. The Hubster gave me that look...you know, the 'we can't afford a lawsuit' look, and I placed my foot back into the stirrup. Courage was finally sucked out by some type of vacuum device. She didn't cry right away and that scared me. They let us see her for a second and then they took her to the other side of the room to perform the AP GAR test. She tested fine and they brought her back to us. I fell in love with her instantly. She had jaundice, so she looked 'sun-tanned', and her eyes were big and round and her neck long and thin. We called her our little ET. Having Courage was my proof that I really can do anything I put my mind to. (i.e., natural child birth)
Story #3. Early in my first marriage, I worked as a cashier for a grocery store in Lawrenceville, GA. In the early 1980's, Lawrenceville was not quite the culturally diverse melting pot that it is today. In fact, I would say that most of the employees and patrons of this good sized, modern, grocery store were good old boys and gals. You know, red-necks. Our uniform had recently graduated from a gold, button up front, maternity blouse-looking smock with big pockets to a navy blue, polyester pants and button up blouse type thing. It was definitely more professional looking and we all looked snappy in our matching 'suits'. But, we still wore our cowboy boots with the 'suit'! (You can put the redneck in an uptown uniform, but you can't....you know the saying).
Not long after the uniform change, I got transferred to another store location. My new location was on Hwy 29, Lilburn, GA. Now, you must understand, that even though there is less than 30 miles between these two store locations, the atmosphere, personality and cultural differences were like night and day. The first day I reported to my new location I was met with stares. All eyes traveled down my legs to the cowboy boots sticking out from my pants legs. I in turn looked at their choice of shoes. They were wearing nurse-like tennis shoes and other 'sensible' shoes. I felt like my boots were sticking out like red, throbbing, sore thumbs. I had the 'big hair'; they had tamer hair-do's. Dolly Parton, meet Olivia Newton-John.
On my break I strode over to the magazine rack to 'relax'. At my 'old' store, I played Miss Pacman for 15 minutes, chatted with my cohorts or read a magazine (which you didn't pay for - - - you read it and then put it back on the rack). I was too embarrassed to play video games, and didn't know a soul, so I thought I'd go for the magazine.
Just as I reached the magazine rack, the left heel of my cowboy boot hit a slick spot on the floor. Without further ado, I did a split right then and there! I mean, the heel of that boot went straight forward and the heel of the other boot went in the opposite direction. I did a 'now you see me, now you don't' trick. Mind you , I have NEVER in my life ever before been able to do a split, no matter how much I practiced and tried! After I came to my senses I pulled my legs together and slowly, and I do mean slowly because my inner thighs felt ripped to shreds, stood up. As my head reappeared over the magazine rack, my new co-workers started to clap. My face turned every shade of red as I hobbled to the rest room to see if I had wet my pants. Glad I could make everyone feel at ease on MY first day of work there!
Quick Prayer: Thank you Lord, for my two beautiful daughters, who are unique and wonderful and bring me and their dad much joy. Thank you for all the jobs I have had in my work career...the good and the bad. Bless everyone today , Lord; Those who have jobs and those who do not. May all mankind labor for Your good. Amen.
Story #1. I was 38 weeks pregnant with Arthur and it was days away from Halloween. On this particular October evening , I started having what I thought were pains from needing to 'go', but I couldn't 'go'. I alternated sitting on the toilet seat for an hour at a time (straining with all my might, I might add) with walks in the neighborhood, taking baths, eating leafy green vegetables, and just pacing. I was only 20 years old and still a 'baby' myself. Finally, at 5:00 am in the morning, I saw blood. I called my obstetrician who said I should probably get myself to the hospital. My young husband (19 years old) drove like a bat out of you-know-where in our little brown Chevy LUV truck (LUV truck - LOL!) and I am sure all the bouncing around on that seat help speed along my labor. As soon as they wheeled me into the delivery room I asked for my epidural. As scared of needles as I am, I was begging for that one! After that, I never felt a thing. I had already dilated to 10cm and ten hours later, Arthur was born. She started crying as soon as her head popped out and before they could finish pulling her whole body out, and didn't stop for nearly ten months. (She had colic.) She was bald as an onion and as she lay on my chest her big blue eyes searched my face. She had pale skin and a round pumpkin head. I fell in love with her instantly. That night I dreamed (not sure it was a dream, to be truthful) I died. I went towards the light and almost into the arms of a figure with outstretched arms, flowing white robe, and in a light so bright I do not have words to describe it. I realized that I was about to leave my newborn baby and expressed that I'd really like to get to know her first. Then I was sucked backwards through the 'tunnel' so quickly all I saw where blurs of light all around me. When I 'came to' I rang for the nurse who came in and held my hand and helped bring my 103 degree F fever down to normal. It was probably just a dream. But sometimes I can't help but wonder if I almost died on the day Arthur was born.
Story #2. Almost 9 years ,a divorce and re-marriage later, a bit more mature version of myself prepared for the arrival of Courage. I had went to the doctor on two occasions and announced 'I am pregnant', but their tests said otherwise. But I knew I was. I waited another week and took a home test and it was positive. Arthur and I danced a celebration jig in the kitchen before we called Hubster! At 40 weeks I went for a regular visit and my obstetrician said I was dilated 3 cm. He told me to meet him at the hospital the next morning and we'd have ourselves a baby. The next day he scratched out the 'plug' with his fingernail and told me I'd go into labor soon. He insisted on an enema and after an hour and half of sitting on the toilet I understood why. After a couple of hours of painless labor I thought 'This is a piece of cake'. The third hour I changed my tune, asking for the epidural, which the doctor promptly informed me I was too far along in labor and couldn't have it now. After one particularly painful contraction and a long howl that emitted from me, my doctor growled, 'If you'd stop whining and push, we'd have this baby'. I drew my foot back, heel tensied and poised. The Hubster gave me that look...you know, the 'we can't afford a lawsuit' look, and I placed my foot back into the stirrup. Courage was finally sucked out by some type of vacuum device. She didn't cry right away and that scared me. They let us see her for a second and then they took her to the other side of the room to perform the AP GAR test. She tested fine and they brought her back to us. I fell in love with her instantly. She had jaundice, so she looked 'sun-tanned', and her eyes were big and round and her neck long and thin. We called her our little ET. Having Courage was my proof that I really can do anything I put my mind to. (i.e., natural child birth)
Story #3. Early in my first marriage, I worked as a cashier for a grocery store in Lawrenceville, GA. In the early 1980's, Lawrenceville was not quite the culturally diverse melting pot that it is today. In fact, I would say that most of the employees and patrons of this good sized, modern, grocery store were good old boys and gals. You know, red-necks. Our uniform had recently graduated from a gold, button up front, maternity blouse-looking smock with big pockets to a navy blue, polyester pants and button up blouse type thing. It was definitely more professional looking and we all looked snappy in our matching 'suits'. But, we still wore our cowboy boots with the 'suit'! (You can put the redneck in an uptown uniform, but you can't....you know the saying).
Not long after the uniform change, I got transferred to another store location. My new location was on Hwy 29, Lilburn, GA. Now, you must understand, that even though there is less than 30 miles between these two store locations, the atmosphere, personality and cultural differences were like night and day. The first day I reported to my new location I was met with stares. All eyes traveled down my legs to the cowboy boots sticking out from my pants legs. I in turn looked at their choice of shoes. They were wearing nurse-like tennis shoes and other 'sensible' shoes. I felt like my boots were sticking out like red, throbbing, sore thumbs. I had the 'big hair'; they had tamer hair-do's. Dolly Parton, meet Olivia Newton-John.
On my break I strode over to the magazine rack to 'relax'. At my 'old' store, I played Miss Pacman for 15 minutes, chatted with my cohorts or read a magazine (which you didn't pay for - - - you read it and then put it back on the rack). I was too embarrassed to play video games, and didn't know a soul, so I thought I'd go for the magazine.
Just as I reached the magazine rack, the left heel of my cowboy boot hit a slick spot on the floor. Without further ado, I did a split right then and there! I mean, the heel of that boot went straight forward and the heel of the other boot went in the opposite direction. I did a 'now you see me, now you don't' trick. Mind you , I have NEVER in my life ever before been able to do a split, no matter how much I practiced and tried! After I came to my senses I pulled my legs together and slowly, and I do mean slowly because my inner thighs felt ripped to shreds, stood up. As my head reappeared over the magazine rack, my new co-workers started to clap. My face turned every shade of red as I hobbled to the rest room to see if I had wet my pants. Glad I could make everyone feel at ease on MY first day of work there!
Quick Prayer: Thank you Lord, for my two beautiful daughters, who are unique and wonderful and bring me and their dad much joy. Thank you for all the jobs I have had in my work career...the good and the bad. Bless everyone today , Lord; Those who have jobs and those who do not. May all mankind labor for Your good. Amen.
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