4 am on Wednesday, April 30 rolled around and I impatiently
waited and stretched and arched my back to work out the 6 ½ day kidney stone
pain with no success before the nursing staff came to prep me at 7:30. Did you
know that kidney stones in pregnancy, while pretty darn common, should only
last 48-60 hours. Mine lasted 156. That’s nice, I guess.
My best friend and her boys- Wahoo! Baby Time |
Aaanyway, Rob wasn’t allowed to join me in the OR, but I had
the head nurse, who was warm and kind and spoke English, with me, and our dear
friend Annie, who was an incredible advocate for us during our long stay and
many medical confusions and misinformation yo-yo’ing and the IV and fetal heart
monitoring fiascos, was with Rob, anxiously waiting outside in the hall. I was
wheeled in, got ANOTHER IV line in the inside crook of my right elbow, and then
received my visit from the anesthesiologist. A quiet, nimble angel of a man who
was calm, efficient and made the needle insertion last a grand total of 45
seconds and felt like two mini spinal massages and two placements of a dot
marker with a ballpoint pen. I didn’t think he’d finished yet since it didn’t
hurt at all, but then my legs felt warm and ta-da! It’s go time!
Unlike American OR visits for a C-section, I didn’t have a
nice screen and open space on my chest for snuggling my little one once they
arrived. I had a wad of hospital-grade comforter crammed over my abdomen and
blocking my view of the man-handling down near my nether regions. It didn’t
hurt, I wasn’t panicked, but I was distinctly aware of the jostling and yanking
at the incision site. My whole body rocked side to side as they suctioned goodness knows what
and they had to pull my kid’s tiny butt out first, then man-handle some more to
get her little head out from its snuggly position of being wedged between the
uterine wall and placenta.
Then, finally, a big scream for such a little person and I
knew I was a parent.
Boy or girl? Boy or girl? I asked at least four times before
anyone else in the room stopped gawking at my mysterious little one long enough
to realize I was asking a question. I thought, all the way through my
pregnancy, that it was going to be a little boy. We didn’t want to find out,
and I had a sense of “little boy energy”.
Nope. She’s a girl!
I asked to see her and they had her literally bundled up to
her eyeballs, but they brought her up to my face and touched her soft little
forehead to mine. Beautiful round
eyes, crinkly forehead all twisted up in concern over the
no-labor-and-hormonal-cues-abrubt-removal she’d just endured. And blond
freaking hair. Oh, geez- she’s going to look just like her dad and I’m going to
seemingly have had nothing to do with her genetics.
I was wheeled out into an OR annex while they popped out
into the hallway with her to show Rob. He’d guessed girl the whole time, and
the nurse happily exclaimed that he was right! They wheeled me out and our
entourage made its way back up to our room where I was plopped back onto my
recovery bed and promptly ignored, unless it was to poke at me or arrange
something with my IV line.
Violet August, April 30 at 8:38 am, 2700 grams, 48 cm |
But, our baby girl was out in the big bad world! We were
officially a family of three!
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