Celebrating the little things.....the really, really little things

Five years ago this coming December I gave birth to Jake. Five years ago today I gave birth to my kidney stone. And yes, I think delivering the kidney stone hurt a hell of a lot worse than delivering Jake. At least with Jake I had an epidural.

Why do I remember this? Because it was on our wedding anniversary. Lincoln and I were supposed to be going out to dinner for our anniversary and after lunch that day I started having terrible back pain. I was 7 months pregnant at the time and was absolutely positive that I was in labor. They always say that a kidney stone is the closest a man will coming to feeling what labor is like and I totally agree with that statement. It was like one long contraction without the relief in between.

When I thought I was in labor my friend Melissa had her assistant, Magen, drive me all the way out to the hospital by my house. Lincoln was working on a job site out in Western Mass and it would take him a while to get to the hospital so Magen came in with me. I think it cured her of ever wanting children.

When we got to the ER they whisked me up to the maternity ward right away and started strapping on the bands that measure contractions and the baby's heartbeat. They were having a terrible time trying to get them on because Jake was all over the place. He could obviously tell that Mommy was stressed and in pain and he was movin' and groovin' in there like there was no tomorrow. My stomach looked like an alien was trying to pop through. Probably not something a young, twenty-something, childless co-worker wanted to see but she was a real trouper....even as all the blood left her face.

The contraction monitor wasn't picking anything up so they figured that it was likely a kidney stone. I got them to take off the contraction monitoring band but they wanted to keep the heartbeat one on to make sure that Jake wasn't in distress. Let me tell you, the person in distress was ME! Imagine having the worst possible pain in your back, a bowling ball moving around in your stomach, and a tight velcro band around your middle. I kept clawing at the heartbeat monitor and begging them to take it off. The nurse kept saying "we need to make sure the baby is fine" so I finally snapped "The baby is FINE! I can FEEL the baby! Take this damn thing off me." We finally compromised and she took the band off and gave me a button to push every time I felt the baby move. I was pushing that button like a drug addict hooked up to one of those "control it yourself" morphine lines the doctors sometimes put in for seriously ill patients. Jake was all over the place and didn't sit still in my stomach the entire time I was in the hospital.

They said that my outburst when I was clawing at my belly was probably the point when the kidney stone actually passed through wherever it was blocked because after that things got better rapidly. They sent me home that evening with a plastic cup and a filter. The next day out came my little kidney stone. I'm more proud of delivering that little sucker than Jake because with Jake I got an epidural, slept through the transitioning stage, and woke up to push for about 13 minutes before Jake popped out. It was FAR more painful passing that damn, itty bitty kidney stone. But I still have it. Yes I do. In a sealed cup. That I look at from time to time.

I'm weird, I know.