May 26, 2012 by Heather
Once we told the doctors we wanted to go ahead and have a c-section, things kind of calmed down some. Well, for me they did at least. Even though I was pretty scared of the whole being-cut-open part, I was ready to meet our baby and put this birthing thing behind me. Now there was a light at the end of the tunnel, praise the Lord.
Our family came in to offer words of affirmation and encouragement. Everyone thought we were making the right decision. I think they were just tired of standing around watching me moan and groan. Plus it was getting late.
There was another girl having a c-section (or, my least favorite phrase, “being sectioned”) at the time, so we had to wait until hers was over and they got the operating room all spic and span for the next one. It was around 8:00pm when we made our decision, and by 10:30pm I was being rolled back to the OR and felt like I was on Grey’s Anatomy.
Oh, but wait. In between 8 and 10:30 I continued to have contractions from hell. The nurse turned off the Pitocin at 8, but my body was still laboring all on its own. Yay, self. I thought for a moment that I could chill out before my big surgery, but no. At least with these contractions I knew that a baby was coming soon, so that knowledge made it a little easier. But not a lot. I’m telling you, contractions are the pits. Don’t be fooled by these people who say they are merely “uncomfortable.” They are lying to you.
They brought Andrew a big blue suit to wear in the operating room, complete with head piece and shoe coverings. So hot. They put a head piece on me, along with some super cool compression socks that had the toe part cut off, which I thought was really weird.
So, 10:30 rolled around and IT WAS TIME!!!! I was most comforted by three things: 1) I was about to meet this new little person I already loved to much, 2) The nurse said I could have Sprite as soon as it was over, and 3) It would only take 18 minutes. I’ll do just about anything for a fresh Sprite. Especially if there’s a straw involved.
Once I got back to the OR, they had me roll over onto this hard, narrow surface. It definitely wasn’t a bed, just a surface with a tough white cushion on it. It kind of looked like a cross because it had long planks stretching out at the sides close to the top for your arms to lie on. Once I was on this strange table, I had to sit up and have my epidural catheter removed so they could put in the spinal block. Remember the dummies who put in the epidural? Gosh, they were dumb. They covered my whole back with ultra sticky surgical tape. Before the anesthesiologist started taking it off she said, “What in the world?” See, dummies.
So the new anesthesiologist (the same one who had been a tad bitchy and therefore wonderful earlier) set out to remove this tape.
Bless be the tide. It hurt. I mean, hurt. As in, rip my skin off. I gripped the nurse’s hands in front of me and screamed, no lie. Each time she ripped off a strip of that awful tape I would yell. By this point I had lost all sense of decency and ability to hold in my true emotions. Pretty sure at one point I yelled, “SHIT,” but who can remember such things. I was so tired, hungry, cranky, you name it.
The tape came off, the epidural came out, and the spinal went in. Luckily, it was centered this time. That thing hurt like a you-know-what when it went in, lemme tell ya. Who knows what I yelled with that one. I hope my mother-in-law wasn’t within earshot, but my sources tell me she was.
The nurses laid me out flat on the table, which was painful enough in and of itself. If you’ve ever been 40+ weeks pregnant and forced to lay on your back, you understand. They stretched my arms out to the sides and told me they wouldn’t have to tie them down if I kept them out or at least on my chest. I chose to keep them on my chest. I think that was about the time the medicine really set in and I felt one of the side effects of a spinal block that the nurse had told me about – uncontrollable shaking. My upper body was all over the place, which was kind of embarrassing. Especially when Andrew finally got to come in and my teeth were chattering so much I couldn’t get out one word.
They had thrown up a big blue sheet that fell right about at my boobs and came up high over my head. I had an oxygen mask put on my face. Those things are so scary for some reason. My hands were interlaced on top of my chest in an attempt to control the shaking. I heard them bring Andrew in the room. He came and sat right next to my head and said the sweetest things. He was so excited. And how can someone look so good in one of those ridiculous blue head things?
“You’re going to feel a little pressure here,” I heard someone say from the other side of the blue curtain.
I just assumed they were about to start prepping me for the procedure, no biggie.
“Dad, you want to come around here and see?” Andrew stood up, camera in hand, and peeked around.
WAAAAAAHHH HUUH WAAAAHHHHH HUUUH WAAAAAAHHH
There was a baby crying somewhere. OH! Wait a second, that was my baby! And he was here! He was breathing and crying and alive and ok.
And just like that, new life comes in.
The End. Or should I be cheesy and say… The Beginning? I’d say it’s a little bit of both.