Well, my birth story is no different. I didn't have any scary moments, no rushing to the hospital with 30 seconds between contractions, no awful stories of laboring for 30 hours. However, it is my story, our story, and it's important to the makeup of our family.
When I left off my Dr had just scheduled us to come in for a C-section two days later on a Friday. After leaving the Dr's office I called Jason and asked what his plans were for Friday and informed him that it was in his best interest to cancel them. The next day and a half was spent packing hospital bags, doing last minute grocery shopping and finishing up laundry.
On Thursday night we went to dinner at our favorite mexican restaurant. We brought along our book of 100,000+ baby names. At this point we still had not figured out what the hell we were going to name our child, but I was adamant that we had to have 3 names picked out before we entered the hospital. Otherwise I feared we'd wind up with some awful name that we hated. It took 3 hours but we had finally whittled it away to 3 options:
Emily Sue
Nicola Sue
Lily Sue
Per Dr's orders I took an Ambien so I would sleep well and didn't eat or drink anything after midnight. The next morning I slept in until 8:30am and then got up to take the longest shower I could. We weren't due at the hospital until noon. It felt like killing time for a flight. Finally 11:30 ticked along and we decided we could go ahead and mosey on down to Alta Bates. Just before leaving Jason took my final preggo pic and we hit the road.
When we arrived at the hospital they took us into the Pre & Post Surgical Unit. They had me change into the oh-so-flattering hospital gown and began all the admissions questions. I was then hooked up to a fetal monitor to that I could hear the Little Miss' heartbeat which was incredibly calming.
I kept waiting for the freak out moment to occur. I mean, I was just about to get a major surgery, while being wide awake, and at the end have a screaming child put in my arms, MY screaming child. Somehow this all seemed surreal and I had pretty much just put myself into a zen state. I suppose this is our bodies way of coping with this kind of thing.
Mom & Bob had been waiting at home for us to call as we got closer to surgery. They only lived about 5 minutes from the hospital and we didn't want them to have to wait around for hours and hours if it got pushed back. I think Harry was very much in need of moral support so he rang them pretty much straight after we got there. I had a brief visit with everyone and before I knew it the nurse came to tell us that it was time for Jason to put on his scrubs because we would begin surgery very shortly.
Good lord, I have never seen him so nervous before in my life. I'm not sure if it was because he was worried about me, worried about the baby, worried about becoming a Dad or worried about passing out from being in a room where a surgery is being conducted. Likely it was a combination of the three. He was able to keep it together enough to get on his gear and pose for this epic photo:
For whatever reason they required I walk into the surgery suite. This was no small feat as my legs felt like jello. At this point Harry and I had to separate. I needed to enter the surgery room alone so they could do my anesthesia and they would bring him in after. He snapped this last photo of me perfecting my dance moves as I left the surgery holding area (always a ham this one!):
The surgical suite was so cold, it felt like walking into a freezer. A very lovely lovely anesthesiologist who's name I will never recall was there and became my personal savior, I'll just call him Dr. No Name. He was very calming and did a fantastic job of talking me through the process. Instead of leaning against a nurse as he applied my spinal he had me lay on my side on the very narrow operating table. Seriously, it was the skinniest thing ever. I don't know how they fit other women with much wider preggo bellies on that thing. A few moments later I began to feel warm and tingly from my breast down. My heart rate was increasing mainly from nerves but nothing in an alarming range. They try their hardest to keep you calm because you are awake for the surgery and they would prefer not to give you any meds because it may affect the baby. As I was laying there they began to prep for the surgery. There was a curtain placed across my chest at my collarbone, I asked that it be put at the highest setting because neither Jason nor I wanted to see what was happening on the other side.
While my Dr was testing out my sense of feeling in my lower half Dr. No Name was finding tunes on Pandora. Odd, I know, but apparently that's how surgery is done nowadays, with a sound track! Who knew? He asked me if I liked Tom Petty - heck ya! I LOVE Tom Petty! The first song to play was "Here Comes My Girl". My Dr looks at me over the curtain and says "Perfect song! Your girl will be here in just a few moments..."
Dr. No Name did a final check with me to make sure I was feeling alright. I asked him if he had anything he could give to my husband because he was really nervous. Dr. No Name assured me that he would take care of my hubs and all would be fine.
This whole time poor old Harry was waiting in the hallway by himself. Finally they brought him into surgical suite and Dr. No Name immediately started chatting him up. "From New Zealand? Do you like Flight of the Conchords? Where did you grow up? What brought you to America?" He was so busy chatting that he it helped keep his mind off what was really going on.
At this point we didn't realize that anything had started south of the curtain. I assumed that we were still in surgery prep. I guess I figured they would give us some big announcement when they were about to begin, but perhaps not saying it makes things go a bit smoother.
So there we are chatting with Dr. No Name about all things New Zealand and he casually glances over the curtain and says "Oh! You're almost done, there are her feet!"
Ummmmm - what????!!! All that mental preparation and zen went right out the window. Holy shiz - I have just been cut in half and they are pulling a baby out of me. Thankfully I still wasn't feeling anything - bless you Dr. No Name. Jason tells me that during this time my entire body was shaking from them pulling the baby out. It freaked him out but he held it together and I didn't even notice. A few moments later my Dr says, "Born 2:42 PM. Dad, come around and take a look at your baby." Jason had the widest eyes I ever seen as he left my side to meet his daughter. I laid there breathing deeply waiting...and a few moments later heard the most gorgeous cry. I was laying there still wondering if she was actually a girl, ultrasounds aren't always right, so I finally croaked out "Is she a girl?" My Dr laughed and confirmed that she was indeed a she and I replied "Good! Cause she has a lot of pink to wear!"
Harry stayed by her clicking away with our camera as they weighed her and wrapped her up like a little newborn burrito.
Finally he came back around to my side of the curtain, followed by my adorable pink baby. She was covered in a thick layer of white goop and wrapped up so that only her face was visible. They placed her on my chest and rolled her up to my lips for my first kiss. This is where I have to ruin the moment, it was gross. Kissing the white goop that was just on your insides is not the most pleasant thing in the world and my hands were strapped down so I couldn't even wipe it off.
Gross goop kissing aside, the important part was that she was here and she was healthy. Very healthy if that loud screech coming from her was any indication.
We leaned in for our first family photo:
Before I knew it they had to move Harry & the Little Miss out of the room so they could finish up my surgery. I knew not to worry because Harry had strict instructions from me not to let that baby out of his sight. I told him that I didn't care where they took her, he was to go with her.
I laid there and listened to them counting all the surgery items "Five sponges?" "Five sponges" "Two scalpels?" "Two scalpels" My health care days came flooding back to me as I listened to ensure they didn't leave anything in me. Shortly after they rolled me onto a gurney to wheel me back into the Post Anesthesia Care Unit (PACU) where I would get to finally hold me daughter...
Coming Up (Meeting her, figuring out the name, and the bittersweet effects of narcotics)
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