I'm so depressing

I turned around when I saw them, trying to make a quick exit out the front doors, but it was too late. I had been spotted by my crowd of friends, and they were all coming towards me now. Traitors.

I hiked up my smile in what I hoped was a friendly way, but I assume under the medication of narcotics it probably looked more like a " I'm going to bury you in my yard" kind of smile. I looked away from Jay's face quickly, terrified that the pain was too much to hide.

Luckily for me, it turned out I was allergic to codeine. So what should have been a couple hours of relaxation was quickly turning into a few hours of hell. I was too busy trying not to die in the hallways of the Nugget to pretend anything with anyone, so I avoided Jay entirely.

Wouldn't it be just my luck to die here, I thought, alone and crying in the one place I was trying to escape? I wasn't strong enough to run to the bathroom, so I satisfied myself by sitting somewhat near it and pleading with it to come closer to me. My only stroke of luck was that Jay had managed to stay away from the hallways until now, and had no idea I was out there half conscious and crying about our failed relationship.

My luck would prove to fail me again, however. I watched in pure agony as a stream of people began to flow out of the bowling alley. I knew there was no way someone would see me there and not stop, perhaps someone would even call 911. That would be a fun night, wouldn't it? Jay could spend the night with his skinny girlfriend, and I could go have my stomach pumped. Man, was I sexy or what?

It was my good friend Renee that realized I was in misery first. Stacy was right behind her, her hands across my love, shielding him as though I was poisonous. I prayed silently that they would stay at the end of the hall, maybe if I stayed still enough they would think I was part of the decor. Just a gross, dizzy, vomitted on statue.

Renee, however, was not stupid. She asked me what was wrong, but she didn't have to. She looked at me, looked at Jay, then realized what was going on. She was the best friend I could have asked for right then when she said,

" We'll just say you're sick. Let's go get some food." Food. It was as if angels were singing, holding hamburgers to their lips, and dancing with french fries. Naturally, I went with her and the crowd of Benedicts.

She asked me what exactly was going on, so I told her. I have no idea why I told her, when half the time I couldn't even admit it to myself. Yet saying it out loud was so liberating, especially while throwing a hamburger down my throat like it had threatened me. I pulled myself together after that, remembering that I wasn't completely alone.

is this a trashy novel?

update on Zander: He's learned to lift his head up all the way, he can even hold it there for awhile! He's also beginning to turn into a redhead, which is a little startling. Neither of us have either his original blonde OR his new red color. He must just be an original like that. :)






The next day I ended up back at the Nugget with Chandra, sitting near the electric box.



The electric box was, if possible, an even worse existence than the Nugget. It was exactly what it sounded like, an electric box. It was positioned on a large slab of concrete, right between Burger King and the Nugget. The slab just happened to be the perfect place to sit if you were going to have a cigarette, and all smoking teenage Pahrumpians bowed to it.



I was already there before I noticed who was sitting there. Jay's new girlfriend, Stacy. She was five feet tall, had no breasts, and was the size of a Q-tip. Her hair was dyed a deep black and her blue eyes had enough eyeliner to make marilyn manson shudder. She was wearing her pajamas for some reason, and was crying as I approached.

" Val, don't hurt her." I heard someone say. I was baffled, until I realized she was muttering to herself through her tears. She was asking me not to hit her. She was shaking, rocking back and forth, and muttering about me. Me! As though I was Hulk Hogan and not a five foot two teenage girl.

I wanted to feel bad for her, wanted to laugh and tell her it was okay, but I couldn't. I had informed her a week ago that Jay was my boyfriend, thinking she was as clueless as I was. I was wrong. she had spent twenty minutes telling me that she had never even seen him, let alone dated him. She might as well have taken sharpie and written " I did it on purpose" across her chest.

I walked away instead, wanting to leave before Jay arrived and I had to see them together. This was the third time she had done this to me and I was beginning to think it was not coincidence. I spent the next few hours(Okay days.)imagining exactly what I would do to her, until I had perfected it to a step by step routine. Then I would feel guilty, remind myself that Jay was the pig, and pretend once again that I had a crush on Merrill.

It was two days later before I actually saw them together. I had left my friend Stoney's house that morning, taken a pill he gave me, then started walking for the Nugget. I was already at another casino, Mt. View, that's close to town when I realized I had bled through my denim shorts. It was extremely visible and I had nothing to cover it with, which made me feel like a panicking seventh grader.

I looked around me desperately, perhaps believing a pair of pants would magically float from the heavens. Bushes? No, that wouldn't work. Perhaps a nice rock would cover it up? Perhaps not. Then a brilliant thought dawned on me. Jay had borrowed a pair of my pants and his house was right across the street. In fact, he was the absolute only person nearby. I could go, get my pants, and have a perfectly good excuse to talk to him. It was a fantastic idea.

I was beginning to get excited as I walked to his house, humming through the wonderful effects of my happy pill. I wondered if skipping my way to the door would be appropriate. Perhaps a little dance or two on the way there. I tried to snap out of it as the door opened, reminding myself it was the pill doing the happy dance.

Jay wasn't there. Typically. It was just evelyn, billy's mom. My happy pill was still buzzing though, so the voice in my head continued to sing through my disappointment. She invited me in, since she was all by herself, then headed to the room to find my pants.

We sat for a while, talking, and secretly hoping Jay would walk in. I must have been sitting there for too long, because my happy pill was quickly turning into a sad one. I vomitted in her house, completely in the toilet but through shouts of "Please don't throw up in my bathroom". Then I became to fall asleep in the middle of our conversation. We both sensed it would be bad if anyone came home to me asleep on the couch, vomitting uncontrollably.

So she dropped me off at the Nugget, where I walked in and saw it. They were walking together, his arm over her. He was quiet, surrounded by my very own friends, looking like he belonged next to her. I vomitted, then waved goodbye to the heart I had since recollected.

wow this is long

I ended up having a pretty good time. When we got there, he made me stay in his room. We crawled through the window, which was something I had never before done in my life. I felt like I was in a teen movie, all I was missing was a good boob scene and a nerdy tag a long.

He was a flirt, but he was notorious for that, so it didn't stop me from spending the night on his bed. We sat for hours and talked, it was as if we'd never run out of things to say. I don't believe I had ever met someone that was so much like ME before. Then, perhaps because god preferred me as a stalker, Jay called.

I told myself I was enjoying being with Merrill, but I couldn't lie to the heart that was now skipping beats. I held the phone to my ear as though it would explode, barely believing he was really on the other line.

" Do you know where to get any pot?" Pot. The love of my life, the knight of my castle, the romeo to my juliette. He just wanted to find some drugs. I acted, of course, as though he were just another loser.

" No. Sorry." I replied. It was a lie, but I despised pot. If I had actually given weed to every single person that expected me to know where it was, I would be a drug lord. Perhaps I was acidentally wearing my " I love weed" sticker again, but people just assumed I was a pothead.

" Oh. Yeah, I figured you did. Um, am I going to see you tomorrow?" Yes! My conscience danced in circles, it raised it's fists, it flew an american flag and sang hallelujah, "Maybe. I gotta go." My voice said in spite.

" Well, I'll be there. Probably all day." I heard his voice say the words before I hung up on him, but all I was hearing was my own heart, dancing happily back into my chest.

and on it continues

Jay was not shocked when I punched him in the face. If anything, he looked as though he had expected nothing else. He didn't even leave, he just stayed where he was in awkward silence. A very long, awkward silence.

My mind spewed out at least a million different sentences. I hate you. I love you. I wish you would die. Do you love me? Do you miss me? Why are you such an asshole? These sentences tried as hard as they could to escape out of my mouth, but still I said nothing. I just stared at him.

Chandra noticed that Jay had a friend with him, one who obviously had no idea what was going on. I hadn't even noticed him there, blabbing away about something or other. All I had noticed was the intense pain that kept burning inside. When Chandra asked the guy to take a walk with her, I realized I was now going to have to say something.

" Hi." I said, and immediately hated myself. Hi? I couldn't have said something, anything, other than hi?What kind of lunatic punches someone and then says hi?

Luckily, he played along. " Hi." he said back, " I'm sorry that -" I stopped him, shrugging and adding, " I'm over it."

The voice in the back of my head screamed at me, threw it's hands in the air, then fell desperately to it's knees in agony as I said, " I really just don't care anymore. We weren't serious anyways."

He believed me. He knew I was cold hearted, that I didn't love anyone. It was easy to believe I didn't love him either. I wanted to stab myself in the heart. Why would I say that to him? Why couldn't I just say the truth? I love you! my head screamed as we walked down the halls, talking as though we were still friends.

We ran into another friend of mine, Merrill, after Chandra left. He was moderately good looking, with great abs and a ridiculus need for attention. He flirted with me constantly, ever since the seventh grade when I was the first girl to sprout breasts. I never knew him well, but he was alot of fun to be around.

I told him I was homeless, careful to avoid Jay's eye as I said it. I didn't want him to know I had done it for him. Merrill acted immediately, probably hoping I would sleep with him. He offered to let me sleep at his house, but we had to go right then.

I looked desperately at Jay, hoping he would tell me not to leave. Merrill, however, said something incredibly painful before I could say a word.

" Hey, where's your girlfriend at?" He asked Jay, finally noticing his presence. Jay looked as though Merrill had punched him in the face. He glanced at me before saying he didn't know, apparently thinking I would suddenly show emotion, something I had never done in my life. I just smiled at him, letting him believe I was happy to go home with Merrill.

When I left, Jay hugged me. He hugged me like he was never going to let go. For a moment, I actually questioned whether he was going to. So I patted him on the back like a bitch, kissed him on the cheek and said " You can let go anytime, you know." The voice in my head committed suicide.

So I went home with Merrill.

continued story

Before I begin, I want to say that I have no idea where this blog is going. I'm really enjoying writing my stories though, even if they're not terrific. So bear with me for a while, because I don't know what's coming after this story. Also, it is completely and embarassingly true.



So, I moved back to Pahrump. I didn't actually move in the general sense of the word, since I didn't actually have a home to move to. I just decided it would be a good idea to live on the streets. I can't see at this point how I thought that would win Jay back.



When I arrived, I headed for the only place any teenager ever hangs out in Pahrump. The nugget. I'd like to say that we went there because it was fun, perhaps even because someone made us go. Unfortunately, no. It was a bowling alley and casino that everyone went to, just because. We would all just sit at a table inside the Nugget and talk about how much we hated the Nugget. Then, we would go sit outside of the Nugget. That way we could sit in a circle, smoke, and talk about how much we hated the Nugget. It was truly a barrel of fun.

I ran into quite a few people that I knew, but in Pahrump, you could pretty much do that just by going to the mailbox. What I was surprised about was not the abundance of people, but the amount of people that had no idea I had ever left. I once broke up with someone over the phone and had someone call me on the other line to ask me why. Knowing gossip was the mark of a Pahrumpian. If something happened in Pahrump and you didn't know about it, then you should probably assume no one knows you exist.

All day I waited around at the Nugget, thinking Jay would show up any minute. I hadn't planned what I was going to say to him, or even if I would say anything at all. Obviously though, my logic button had broken days ago and rational thoughts were leaking out of my head before I could process them. I just knew I had to see him.

Chandra, my best friend, came down to see me. The moment she walked through the doors, she wheeled me around and walked back out of them. We were going to find Jay. Yes, I truly decided that becoming an insane stalker was the direction I was going to take my life. The fact that I wasn't being bombarded into a closet and drenched in holy water at this point amazes me.

We had no idea where his house was, yet we found it. By some combination of sheer luck and little bit too much crazy, we found it. Naturally, he wasn't there. Billy's mom, who was actually a previous co worker of mine, announced that he had left for the Nugget. Then she told me that Jay had brought some skinny whore home a week ago, in those exact words. I knew she was battling herself on the inside, because she liked me as a co worker but had always been terrified I would end up with her son. I didn't blame her honestly, but wondered if she felt the same way about Jay.

We turned around and head back to the Nugget, Chandra freaking out because her parents would be there soon to pick her up. Her parents were very, very christian people. Not the nice, lovable kind of christian but the kind that would probably stone you to death if it was still legal. They had a love-hate kind of relationship with me. They loved me for who I was, but hated me because it was easier to blame me than Chandra for her actions. Still, they probably already had the stones ready in case she was late.

We stopped at a different casino(don't you love Nevada?)to go to the restroom and ran into a lovely group of people that might well have been escaped convicts. They were two, kindly looking older women so we assumed that they would be friendly and got in the car when they offered us a ride. Then their two giant, black boyfriends joined us.

The conversation was frightening and included many, many references to someplace they kept calling the "bat cave". Someplace they wanted to take us to. Someplace I never, ever want to go. It was probably the longest car ride of my life, but pretending to be hardcore lesbians seemed to help us in the end. I knew our manly ways would pay off one day.

Anyways, I saw Jay the second I walked in the door. He was dressed like an idiot, with his hair cut like an idiot. He looked like my worst idea of a man. Yet I wanted to touch him so badly. Or hit him, maybe. Yes, that was definitely it. I could feel my emotions boiling up, turning quickly into nothing but pure hatred. I just wanted to hit him, to hit him repeatedly until he felt the same pain that I did.

So I did.

Once again, this has run on too long. More on this story later.

Jay

yesterday was Jay's birthday. I felt so guilty that I couldn't do anything for him, I couldn't even have sex with him. It's wierd though, he is now twenty. It made me start to think about how things have changed since we met.

When I met Jay, he was living with two other guys in a filthy apartment. Filthy doesn't even cover it honestly. The place looked like the bugs had lived there first and the boys were the ones invading.

He smoked pot all day and his only job experience was male stripping. He was living in Neverland. He had enough women stalking him that I felt sure he knew all the "moves". I had no idea why I loved him so much, especially being the opposite of husband material. I did though, I loved him instantly. I just didn't know it.

I, on the other hand, was a ravenous bitch who had never loved a single "boyfriend" in my life. I didn't date men, I ate them. I drank all day, drank all night, then vomitted and went to work in the morning. I always worked. I never knew what it was like to NOT have a job. If I had been forced to depend on someone else, I would have died from the agony. It was like my slutty, irresponsible side was in a battle to the death with my workaholic side.

I moved into the swamp that was Jay's apartment when I turned seventeen. They were hot guys, all of them. So naturally, I accepted the invitation with a shudder and then moved right in. I never said I was a particularly smart girl.

I won't tell you about my time at the apartment just now, because I've already rewritten it five times and I still can't make it sound right. So let's just sum it up.

I thought Jay was my best friend. My best friend had a crush on him. Jay was in love with me. I had a crush on his best friend. I was attracted to Jay. I decided on a whim to have sex with Jay. Jay thought we were dating. I cried and got drunk. Decided not to break his heart and continued to have sex with Jay. Was happier than I've ever been. Jay left for Pahrump.

He left with his roommate Billy for Pahrump, but only Billy came back. I'll never forget the moment Billy walked in alone. It was as though my heart had fallen out of my mouth and skipped it's way out the door. I could literally feel the pain. Probably because I was getting a tattoo that very moment, but the sentiment was still there.

He told me on the phone that he would be back on Monday. Then he told me Wednesday. Then he stopped calling. I got a call from a previous boy toy telling me that Jay had been seen with another girl, but no one had to tell me. I felt it in his voice as he broke my heart the third time.

I invited my best friend over and together we drank enough vodka to light a forest on fire. We tattooed ourselves with lots of beautiful squiggly drawings that we get to live with forever, then flirted with Billy and cried about how all men were evil. He eventually told Jay he was a loser and never to come back. It was not as satisfying as I had imagined.

I lost my job. I came to work completely hammered, wearing jeans, then walked around the back in circles singing and laughing hysterically. They thought I had actually lost my mind. I'm not really confident enough to say that I didn't.

Unfortunately, I had gotten this job out of necessity. It was the only way we were going to pay for our apartment, since my roommates all lost their jobs the same month. I was in hell. I had to keep drinking, or I would have slit my wrists and jumped off the rooftop.

I was in love with Jay. It took a bottle of vodka a day before that haunting fact hit me. But when it did, it hit me like a vengeful ex girlfriend. I had to do it. I had to do the stupidest thing I have ever done in my life. I moved back to Pahrump.

the first week

Zander is two weeks old today. We have had him home for a week and one day. It hasn't been completely easy, mostly because I don't even remember what sleep was like anymore. It's just a vague, meaningless memory now.

From the second he was born, Zander was the most mellow baby one could imagine. An entire train could pass right next to his head and the boy wouldn't even look around at it. He just slept all day long, he wouldn't even wake up to eat if we didn't make him.

Unfortunately though, this created a big problem. Our baby didn't cry for food, which meant he was not going to wake us up when he was hungry. So, because we are self loathing people, we decided to sleep in six hour shifts. Which in baby world, is really a three hour shift with waking moments and grunts of " I'm trying to sleep you asshole!" in between.

It was worth it though for those moments when he was peaceful. I loved it when he started to be more alert, waking for longer periods and cuddling with his mommy. His little head was blonde, but I secretly believed he looked just like me. Everyone I knew said he looked like Jay, but my denial was deep enough to cover those opinions happily.

I wasn't able to breastfeed. My breasts had grown the size of large melons for no reason whatsoever when he was in NICU, then shrunk back down to a size I was sure couldn't be mine. Didn't I have large breasts, I kept thinking to myself, or was I simply delusional? I believe now that pregnancy had altered my image of what my body used to look like. I was confusing my real body with carmen electra's. Damn.

Anyways, the milk production ran out. I was still making it, but it was more of a snack than a feast at this point. I was disappointed, as I had always said I would breastfeed Zander. He didn't seem to mind though and he rather enjoyed his formula. He was still a bit of a boob man though, as we realized when he tried to suck on daddy's nipples.

My body was going back to normal now, though it still wasn't what I had in mind. My old stomach was gone, replaced with one of equal size. The only difference was that this belly was made of fat, whereas my previous belly had been made almost entirely of muscle. The stretch marks went up to my belly button, all of them angled in a direction that made it appear as though I had been raped by wolverine.

Everytime I looked at them though, I just laughed. They were horrible, yes, but they were there because of my Zander. Who hopefully would make me very rich one day when he becomes president of the united states. Right, kid?

NICU

I wish I could tell you details about Zander's stay in NICU. I really wish I could. I can't though, as I can't remember a thing. I don't know how much I honestly slept for that week, but I was living my entire life for those half hour feedings we gave him.

After he was born, the nurses informed me that his bilirubin levels were far above the 95% percentile. He was already on his way to brain damage and he was only 12 hours old. They told me that my blood type was attacking his. Naturally, I panicked. I didn't understand what that meant, I only understood that he was sick and they were taking him away from me.

I spent alot of time crying at first, feeling as though this were somehow my fault. It was my blood doing it to him, I thought. Maybe it wasn't even the blood. Maybe it was karma for enjoying my delivery so much. Maybe it was karma for getting the epidural. For not breastfeeding right away. I found every single reason to blame myself that I could.

We went to visit him constantly, wearing ourselves out past the point of exhaustion. Our insurance didn't cover more than two days in the hospital, so we ended up driving around town in between feedings. It was the only way we could stay close to the hospital.

I don't like to think of the bad parts though, I like to remember the feeling I had when I finally carried him out of the hospital. I like to remember what it was like to know that I would be able to hold him whenever I felt like it. Best of all, I like to remember saying to curious onlookers, " This is my son."

zander james is born

"I can't sleep through this." I said, disgruntingly. It was four in the morning, the day before my scheduled induction. I had been having what I suspected to be gas pains for the last few hours and I was beginning to get agitated. If this keeps up, I thought, I'll mess up my whole sleep schedule and go into my induction as exhausted as I was now. I didn't want the epidural, so I knew I needed my energy. I shuddered for a second as I imagined that long needle, dripping with blood in the hands of a crazed doctor.

" Maybe you should start counting." my fiance said, careful to avoid the dreaded "L" word. We had both spent the last week waiting for the labor my doctor had announced "would happen anytime now". I was ten seconds away from drinking castor oil, or worse, having sex. My doctor had kindly allowed me a due date induction though, probably so he could get me out of the way and go on vacation.

I shrugged at Jay, my fiance, then decided he was right. I stood up and threw on a shirt, then starting counting and walking around. I was sure, even on the fourth contraction, that this couldn't be it. Still, they fit the bill. They were about five minutes apart and by the tenth one in a row, I decided we should go to the hospital.

Jay had already been running back and forth from our room to his mother's(we lived with his parents), smoking cigarettes in their nicotine cave and then running back to see if I was still in labor. When I told him we were going, he ran back and asked her to drive us. We loaded up the bags and got in the car, but I was still wondering when the contractions were going to stop and make a fool of me.

When we got to the hospital, I started to believe it was the real deal. Obviously, though, the nurse disagreed with me. She came in with a look that suggested we had ran over her favorite dog, hissing at me and my mother in law, " I suppose you smoke too?"

I shook my head, not sure what she could be talking about. Too? Who was this other secret smoker? She then hooked me up to the bed monitors, telling me in no uncertain terms that I could not possibly be in labor. She asked me to rate the contractions on a 1 to 10 scale, then laughed at me for thinking they were even above a 1. After all, she said, it doesn't really mean anything to have contractions every five minutes. It only matters how fast you dialate. I wondered vaguely whether she had ever read a single pregnancy book.

Anyways, she checked my cervix rather than pay any attention to my silly contractions. I shuddered that her stubby fingers had actually entered my vagina. To add to my joy, my mother in law did not apparently find it wierd to stay in the room during this action. That way she got a look at her son's playground long before I was in my lack of modesty stage. This won't make dinner awkward at all.

She noted no change from the dialation I had had on monday(it was wednesday now)though she did say that my cervix was now anterior, which it was not on monday. She left the room and said that if I didn't dilate in an hour, I would be going home.

The contractions got stronger over that hour and laying flat down in the bed made them feel like they were much more powerful. If this is what labor is like, I thought, I don't want anything to do with it. The nurse giggled at me when she came back in, because I was obviously a hypochondriac. I hadn't had any cervix change in that hour. She told me that I was not in labor, and not to come back until tomorrow morning for my scheduled induction. Then I assume she went to slaughter a baby kitten.

We went home in very bad spirits and called my whole family to tell them we would now be spending the day at home, wondering how far I was. I was so terrified that I would not know when to go now, and end up delivering a baby on the bathroom floor.

The majority of the day was spent in our room, pretending to watch tv through my contractions. Some of them were really easy to get through, some of them made me think I was going to die. Jay didn't even realize I was in so much pain though, I couldn't make a noise through them if I tried.


I learned to cope after a few hours. I would stand through the contractions as laying down caused the most pain, then I would rock back and forth through them until they faded. I was coping very well on my own and didn't particularly want anyone else to touch me. It felt like if I let go of my rituals, then I would fail.

I called the nurse's station several times, asking if I should come in yet. I assume I must have been very annoying, but I was lucky enough to at least get several different nurses. They didn't believe I was in labor, however, so I gave up. The last nurse actually told me " You sound way too happy to be in labor." I was thrilled to know that my hospital of choice had a staff that had been educated by a ten minute video of what labor should look like.

By the time night fell I stopped feeling them. I was so prepared for the pain and so prepared for the peaks, that I barely twitched when one came on. After twenty four hours, they were pretty much just part of my life. I wanted sleep though, I felt as though I was hitting a mental breakdown. I started daydreaming about that crazed epidural man, suddenly thinking of how beautiful that blood soaked needle really was. Just imagine, I thought, a nap. A real nap. I started to salivate at the thought, barely even realizing my feet were leading me right to jay's mom.

" let's go back to the hospital." I said, the words falling out of my mouth like vomit. I was dealing with the contractions like a pro now, thankfully, so the car ride was less horrible than my nightmares had told me it would be.

No one seemed to notice I was even in pain, which was slightly annoying. I pretended to give a rat's ass about the stories jay's mom was telling and silently prayed that I was at least four centimeters. I started thinking that if I said it to myself enough times, it would be true. I had to have that epidural.

When we got to the hospital, the nurses looked at me with a wary eye. None of them believed I was in labor. They strapped me up to the monitors anyways, then brought a much friendlier nurse to check my cervix. She checked and looked up with wide eyes.

" You're six centimeters." she said, staring at me as though I would suddenly start to writhe in pain. I had never heard more relieving words in my life and I immediately asked for an epidural. She nodded her head knowingly, then left to find the epidural man.

I invited my mother, stepmother, and stepsister as no one else was willing to climb out of bed and come. I suppose I should have expected it. My family didn't even celebrate christmas, let alone the birth of my baby.

They were entertaining to begin with. I was happy to have people there I could talk to, especially as they were all getting along. It was like we had a chick party at the hospital. I wasn't noticing my contractions AT ALL at this point. I didn't even realize I was still having them. I was so happy to be getting the epidural that I felt as though I'd already had it.

The nurses came in and out a bit, still staring at me as though I would sprout wings and fly away. " You're having a contraction." the nurse said, practically asking me to show some emotion about it.
" I know." I said, trying not to sound like I was proud. I didn't want the nurses to think I was egotistical, so I explained to her that I dealt with pain differently than most people. The pain hadn't stopped, it was just being ignored by my brain.

They brought the IV needles in before I could get the epidural. She warned me that it would hurt beforehand, so I was feeling very apprehensive about it already. I had spent weeks dreading the IV. I asked her what it would feel like, how long it would take, and any other question I could come up with. I felt as though I was interviewing the nurse for a job position.

When she finally inserted the needle, I was in more pain than the contractions. I tried not to react as she pushed it in for what must have been the whole life span of a bee, then told me we would need to redo it.

The third try was the one that worked, so I was seconds away from tears by the time they had it hooked up. I laughed to the nurse about how I was secretly a big baby. Now it was time to change my fears though, so I began to ask for the epidural man. She had warned me that my contractions would grow stronger when they broke my water, and I wasn't entirely sure I could handle that. I was getting fearful as the time ticked by, what if my water broke on it's own?

The man came in when I was at eight centimeters, just barely making it in time. I sat up and grabbed onto the nurses arms, holding my shoulders down and concentrating solely on the freckle on my wrist. I just knew he was going to mess up and kill me somehow.

I only felt a slight poke and then a wierd electric shock down my left leg. I waited for the pain for a couple minute after he was already done, seeing the scared look on my fiance's face made me sure it was coming. It didn't though, so I supposed the needle must have been just as terrifying as I thought. Perhaps the epidural man did laugh hysterically as he squirted blood out the tip of his foot long needle. Nothing else could justify the look on my fiance's face, it was one of pure horror.

It only worked on one side. At this point, they were just about to break my water. I panicked and started asking repeatedly for the epidural man to come back. Feeling it on one side was worse than feeling the whole thing. I couldn't control my emotions when it was just one side, my ritual was ruined.

He came back thankfully, made another mistake, then gave me my third epidural. One baby, three epidurals. At least I get to say when he gets older " I was in such horrible labor with you that I needed three epidurals, and you won't eat your broccoli for me?" Or perhaps I will just beat him.

I was shaking uncontrollably at this point and lost the ability to pay attention to my mob of women. They hadn't noticed me in hours anyways. They only liked me I told jokes. If I was actually in pain, their attention drifted elsewhere. My fiance hadn't left my side though and he was the best supporter I could have asked for. He was worried when he was supposed to be, noticed my every contraction, then just held my hand when nothing was happening.

We started a pitocin drip after that, which made me feel guilty. I had slowed down my labor with that epidural, I thought, I was going to end up with a c section as punishment. Then I began to wonder if perhaps my intense fear of actually birthing a human being was the reason he stayed in. Perhaps he was doing mommy a favor.

Luck wasn't on my side though, I ended up at ten centimeters twenty minutes later. The nurse asked me if I felt the urge to push, but I didn't. I never did. I had spent the last four hours terrified of that urge to push. My sister had had an epidural and still she began to scream as though the baby was actually using a machete to come into this world. So naturally, I assumed it would be excruciating. Instead it was a mild feeling as though I had eaten a bad bologna sandwich.

I noticed that all of the women were not exiting as they should when my legs were up in stir ups. I couldn't move them, so jay put them in the stir ups for me. Terrific, I thought, this should be easy.

Everyone I know it seems decided now was the time for action. I got three phone calls while my vagina waved hello to the outside world, and it seemed as though my woman mob was going to be having a private conversation. They continued to chatter as my mother came to hold my hand. I pushed it away in the friendliest way I could as I hung up the cell phone and asked everyone to get out before I ate them.

The practice pushes made me feel useless. The baby was moving down I knew, but I had imagined a more painful situation. I felt like I wasn't doing anything at all. They made me stop and informed me that my doctor was on his way.

Wait a minute, I thought, there's that urge. I have to push. I have to push. I have to push. The thought echoed over and over again in my head as I began to moan anything I could get my mouth to say. I could feel him sliding down the birth canal. I could feel his head beginning to crown. It was crowning. The doctor walked in and took the longest time any human being has ever taken to put gloves on as I screamed, " He's coming on his own!"

The doctor told me to push, told me to stop within seconds, then pulled the baby out of me. His cries echoed out like magic, making me burst into pathetic tears immediately. They put his disgusting body on my chest and all I could think was " God that's a fat baby."