Ma Ingalls I am not.

Brittany was born less than an hour after we arrived at Texas Womens Hospital.  One minute I was smiling and having Bill take my picture by the “delivery” sign at the hospital and very shortly afterwards I was about to deliver her.

The doctor told me that I had arrived too late to receive any drugs. Trust me when I say that was not in my “birth plan”.  I know lots of people are in favor of drug free births … but I am not one of them.

Give me drugs “early and often” was kind of my motto.

I told the doctor …. a little loudly perhaps … that I “didn’t want to be a prairie woman”.  I told him I was “no Ma Ingalls”.  I told him I “HAD TO HAVE DRUGS”.

He got in my face and said … “I know you don’t want to be a prairie woman but you are having a baby RIGHT NOW”.

I thought he was so rude.

A few minutes later, Brittany was born.

After that experience, I had scheduled inductions for Savannah and Jacob so we didn’t ever have to wonder if I was going to do the “Ma Ingalls” thing again.

With the births of Caroline, Brittany, Savannah and Jacob, I had, like all women, lots of blood drawn, shots of this and that, IV’s and with 3 children, I had an epidural.

I should mention here that when we went to the birthing class a man came up to Bill and patted him on the shoulder and said … “I feel sorry for you man”.  Bill asked why and he said … “because your wife yelled while she was WATCHING the epidural video … can’t imagine what she will do during the real thing”.

Real funny dude, real funny.

You would think that after having four children, one naturally, I could handle a little thing like getting a tetanus shot.

But today when I was told I needed one I immediately began to sweat and panic.  I needed one because of a piece of glass that I have stuck in my foot.  It’s probably been there three or more months.  I don’t think about it much, but every now and then I’ll step on it just so and yelp a little.

This morning I showed it to Bill to see if he saw anything and he said … “ewww, it’s black and probably infected”.

He then walked to the kitchen and got a knife.  A KNIFE!!!  Like one I use to cut food.  Before I knew what was happening he was spraying Bactine on the knife … AS IF THAT WOULD DISINFECT it.  I told him under no circumstances was he carving on my foot unless the knife went through fire so he used the lighter we have for birthday candles and “sterilized” the knife.

Only he really didn’t need to do that because as soon as he went for my foot I yelled out like he was cutting my foot off.

He then patiently said “I haven’t touched your foot yet”.

I knew that but I was anticipating the pain.

It was at about that point that he told me he thought it would be best for me to go to the doctor.

And I said … “YES…. one with properly sterilized instruments!!!!”.

The sad thing is, when the nurse looked at my foot I yelled again in much the same way.  She looked kind of panicked but I told the same thing I told Bill … “it didn’t hurt … I just thought it might”.

Only I apologized to her.

After the doctor looked at it she mentioned things like “the foot has lots of nerve endings and it wouldn’t be good to cut on it unless it was by a surgeon” (did you hear that Bill Baerg?!?!).

And then she said … “But you will need antibiotics and a tetanus shot today”.

Immediately I began to sweat and panic.  And they made me wait, all alone, in a room for excruciatingly long minutes until the nurse brought the shot.

I asked her lots of questions … “will it hurt?”, “are other people afraid”, “what happens if I don’t get the shot?”.

She told me that she had only had one worse patient than me and he was a man (ha!).  She then said … “if you don’t get the shot you could lose your foot or your life”.

She also wondered aloud how someone could walk around with a piece of glass in their foot for three months and think getting a shot would hurt worse.

So I said “okay, give me the shot”.

And it didn’t hurt at all.

Until a friend told me that the after effects of the shot were bad for her.

As soon as I heard that I was sure my arm was aching and I was having “side effects”.

And now I’ve decided they want me to see a surgeon probably because they think I need anesthesia to have the glass taken out of my foot.

And that is OKAY by me.

Because, as I’ve said before, I don’t want to be a prairie woman.