And FINALLY....

Okay, so I'm supposed to feel like I'm pooping.

Okay.....

Do I feel like I could poo?

Yeah....I could probably poo right..... now.

I was told by numerous sources that "the urge to push" felt like you do when you poo. Well, in retrospect, I guess it does. If you're poo is diarrhea and uncontrollable (not that I've pooped my pants before. twice.) Because I never remember anyone telling me that you can't NOT push...you're body just does it automatically. So I waited until I felt like I could poo, and then I pushed. Hard. A lot.

Like, for 4 hours a lot.

My cervix was open to a 10, but I had lip that was holding his head back, so although I was fully dialated, my body wasn't "pushing" because the lip was in the way.

I remember being hyper aware of noise. I remember squatting at the end of the bed, lying on the bed and using the squatting bar, and rolling onto my back while my sisters and my mom, held my legs. I remember hearing I was "SO close" and I remember buying into that for about 3 hours. I remember thinking after 4 hours that if one more person told me that I'd scream.

Enter Whitney.

Whit was not present until a little later in my pushing marathon, so she came to support me, and happened to tell me I was SO close within the first 3 minutes of being in the room. Its a little fuzzy what I said, but I remember fulfilling my plan to let 'em have it.

Whit slunked away, and I made a mental note to apologize later. And I did. But because I still feel bad about it......Whit, I'm sorry.

But really people? When I hear SOOOO close, I think 5, maybe 10 minutes, no? So after hours of hearing how close I am, I feel justified in being a little frustrated.

I remember touch was suffocating, as well as anyone's breath. Never mind that they'd all been with me all night and hadn't had time to brush their teeth. And I'm sure my breath smelled like roses too.

I remember when the lip finally moved. AFTER the four hours of pushing, and AFTER Lylaine tried to move the lip manually, which was more pain than any other part of any stage of labor. By far. I remember politely screaming at Lylaine to remove her fingers from my birth canal. It happened AFTER I told everyone I needed a break. And immediately after I got back in the tub.

I remember thinking, THIS!? THIS is what it "the urge to push" is???? I've been pushing for 4 hours when I was supposed to be feeling THIS????

I immediately got out and tried squatting again because I knew it was coming quickly. Then I climbed on the bed on all fours and my body took over. And Lylaine put a gown on. Note to self: gown=SOOO close.

Right as he crowned, I remember being convinced that if I pushed through the burn like they told me to, I was going to blow up into a million pieces. Despite their best efforts to convince me otherwise.

I remember being scared at the pain. So scared that I could have pushed him out immediately, but didn't. Over and over again, Tiffany would whisper in my ear, "Rem, just do it this time. You have control over this pain now. You can make it end, right now, next push. You are strong enough."

And I wasn't. And I knew I wasn't. My strength was gone. I was physically exhausted. I was mentally drained.

I checked into my body's reservoirs. Yep, nothing physically. My mental reservoir was gone 2 hours ago. But as I tapped into my spiritual reservoir, I realized something.

People were praying for me. Just as we had prayed for Lindsey, my family and friends were offering up prayers of strength for me, at this very moment, FOR this very moment. I was reminded of a conversation with Whitney a few days before, a lesson in Sunday School from my dearest friend a few weeks prior, each reminding me of the Savior. Of His pain, so that He could give me strength in moments exactly like this.

And just like that, I came to my senses. I was back in that birthing room, alert and rejuvenated, as if I had just had a full night's sleep. My body was strong, my mind was focused.

In transition, its nearly impossible for a woman to move at all. It's almost like it forgets how to move. But right at the peak of pushing and pain, I flipped over onto my back, grabbed my legs (with my nurse and T on each side), and gave a few final pushes, watching in the mirror as my little man emerged.

And then I went limp. All strength exhausted, Cole was at my side as Tiffany and Lylaine worked together to keep me from tearing (which they did! WOO-HOO!). T caught him and brought him to my chest and we lay there, surrounded by people who loved us, keeping him warm and giving me more sips of water. Cole kissed my forehead and said good job. He was perfect.

And then people filed out, as per my birth plan, and left our new little family alone to stare in amazement at each other, lost in the most beautiful 10 months of our lives.

So yeah, I don't remember everything about birth. The pain, the anticipation, the worry, the exhaustion. But every time I look at that little man I know whatever else happened that I don't remember.....was worth every second of it.