A brief story about your birth. We were scheduled for a c-section on Feb 7. As I got ready for the next day, 8pm to be exact, I received a call from the nurse at the hospital that our surgery has been postponed til further notice. It didn't seem like she was even going to give me an explanation until I pressed for one. There was an infection in the nursery so you were safer inside me than outside. Although the practice is that after birth you would end up next to me in the little bassinet, but they wanted to make sure there was a place for you should complications arise. So I was to wait til the next morning for further notice. Dr. Elliot, our Obstetrician did call that night to tell me that we would not expect to give birth to you til at least Wednesday.
My thoughts at the time, "what will I do for 3 more days?!" I was, we all were, eager to meet you. Hannah & Elijah had already gone to bed, expecting to wake up and not necessarily see me. So when they awoke the next morning, it was a bit disappointing for all of us that I was still at home. However, at least I didn't have to tell them I wasn't going to the hospital at all that morning. Dr. Elliot called at 6:30 am and told me just to be ready to go because there was a chance I would go in for the surgery. So ready I was. I felt like my emotions were being toyed with, with much anticipation and yet just embracing the unknown and the timing of things. Then we got the call that we are to go in. But I was still told that I may not give birth that day. More waiting. More waiting. No one knew anything. There were no answers. I was sitting in the triage area, fully gowned, hair covered, papers signed. Then the nurse came to give me an IV. A midwife in training asked for permission to put the IV in my left hand. I look away as she held my hand and poked me, it hurt. She said, "oh, my bad." Uh, not something you want to hear when you're getting prodded with a huge needle. I peeked and a pool of blood stained the crisp white sheet just under my hand. She forgot to hold the top of the vein while she poked the huge thing in. The discomfort was barely bearable. I was very relieved when it slipped out of it's place 24 hours later.
By 11:00 a doctor came up to me and said, "Hi, I'm Dr. Jaddi, I'll be your surgeon." He got me some papers, I signed it. He came back and asked me, "are you getting your tubes tied?" "yes" and that was the extent of conversation I had with him. I was disappointed that Dr. Elliot didn't explain to me that she would not be doing my surgery. It may as well have been because I may have opted to go home and come back when she was available.
I was nervous about the surgery. I didn't cry this time as the needle went into my spine. Instead of waiting for the anesthetist to find out I hate needles, I told him, "I hate needles." He said something smart like, "that's nice information, but it's too late." The anesthetist had about 35 years experience. So he was an old guy and did something different from the guy who was there for both Hannah and Elijah's birth. After the spinal went into my back, they laid me down very quickly. Strapped my arms down like I was on the crucifix, pulled up the curtain... they always move so fast... That was also the moment for me to tell the nurse, "I want to give my baby a kiss when she comes out." As I felt my legs go numb, (the first time they told me they would feel like tree trunks, so I always visualize my legs turning into tree trunks), the oxygen mask went on. I started to feel the familiar nausea. As usual, I hated the oxygen mask. Ironically it made me feel like I was suffocating. The nurse held one of those curvy pans next to my hear for throwing up as I started to gag. And of course, of all things, the anesthetist had a hearing problem! So I was weakly telling him "I can't breath." He would say, "what!" And I would muster all strength to say it again. The nurse heard me and repeated to him, "she says she can't breathe!" Then when I told him I was nauseous, that was really painful, "I'm gonna throw up." "What did you say!!" "I'm gonna throw up!" "What?!" With the nurse holding the pan next to my head, I think he got the picture. The anesthetist quickly put something in the I.V. and he said I didn't need to worry, he just gave me something for anti-nausea. This anti-nausea also was instrumental in my immediate recovery. Instead of throwing up every I gobble down because I am so starved after the surgery, I gobbled food nausea free! Ah I have the c-section mastered after the 3rd, yet there shall be no more. Sad, but I'm ok with that.
The usual pulling, tugging happened. I heard someone say, "I see her face!" But after the strong pulling and tugging, there was more pulling and tugging. It seemed a bit strange that they were pulling and tugging for so long. I didn't think much of it. I heard no cry when they pulled you out. I think I was a bit suspicious, but I didn't suspect anything, because think I just trusted the doctors. Later, when I saw a mark on your face, I asked the nurse about it. It turns out that the doctor had to use forceps to get you out. The video footage of them cleaning you up explained more. They sucked all the goop out of your nose and mouth and actually tried to make you cry. Eventually you did, and that's when I heard you from the little table where they were taking care of you and wiping you down. Then the little bundle Naomi was present to me for a kiss. What a sweet moment.
The long term recovery was a whole other story... but that's for another day.
