Baby's Birth Story

It was around this time last year that I conceived. Of course, I only found out a month later, late March, that I was really "enceinte". There was a lot of denial involved, even when the pregnancy test results were in front of me. Not even the ultrasound could convince me at first, until the third month when the monitors started showing arms and legs in addition to the pair of irregular blobs.

This post will not be about the waiting parts though. If you're curious, long story short: I did not crave anything and I basically stayed home and slept more than usual. Nothing spectacular. I think because my pregnancy wasn't too extraordinary that my labor made up for it by being eventful.

11-11-11

My husband, Paul, said that if I ever got pregnant in 2011, we'd need to conceive in February so our baby would be born in November, and maybe, just possibly, have that birthdate. Guess what? He got his wish, helped along because I had placenta previa and therefore, couldn't go through natural birth. In fact, on our last OBGyne visit, when the doctor determined that I needed a scheduled C-section, his eyes just lit up. I could see the imaginary lightbulb on his head when he heard that it should fall on the same week as 11-11-11, and the light sparkle in his eye when he asked and the doctor agreed.

I guess we should have expected it, but a lot of people had the same idea he had and that day's regular time slots for the maternity O.R. were fully booked. (It surprised me, too! I mean, that's a lot of C-sections!) My OB offered us the 6pm slot and we, rather, Paul, acquiesced despite the extra charge it would incur for being outside of hospital working hours.

Fortunately, my doctor informed me about a day or so before "D-day" that the 12:30pm schedule suddenly opened up because the patient booked for it went into labor earlier than planned and she was able to squeeze me in.

We checked into the hospital on the night of 11-10-11. My condition? I felt really bloated and heavy, like I had swallowed a watermelon. (Imagine that. Never thought that one day I would be able to say that phrase in relation to myself... "swallowed a watermelon"...) Not to mention, I felt like baby wasn't ready to pop anytime soon. He seemed really snug in there.

12:30PM

The nurses fetched me from my hospital room about an hour before to prep me for the surgery, reminding me to bring my camera. (No hubbies allowed in the O.R., sadly.) I forget now what they injected me with after lying me down on the mobile bed... I think part of it was Demerol. I felt groggy and sleepy once I was placed on the surgery table.

At the time it felt like a long wait before my OB arrived. But now that I think about it, it wasn't. I drifted in and out of sleep, which I fought though the nurses and the anesthesiologist told me not to. When my doctor came in, dressed in her blue scrubs, she took a moment to reassure me and a few minutes later, they turned me on my side to administer the anesthesia.

Things were a bit of a blur after, although I was partially awake and coherent. I remember not being able to feel my legs. I remember the curtain they hung to obstruct my view. I remember looking at the reflective surface of the light fixture on the other side of that curtain and trying to see the surgical site. (I was morbidly curious. The angle was wrong so I could only see the tops of their heads though. Boo.)

I vividly remember when my son came out and I first heard his cry. I thought it was weird and not like how the TV and movies depicted newly born babies sounding like. It was a broken, throaty sort of cry. I remember when my doctor and all the attending congratulated me. And I remember when, after checking him out and wrapping him up, they presented him to me and tried to get him to suck on my breast to encourage familiarity and "bonding".

I also remember, when they took him out to show him to the rest of my family, the sudden alarm in the voices of the doctors surrounding me. I looked to the anesthesiologist who was situated on my side of the curtain and asked, "What happened? What's happening?" Apparently, I started hemorrhaging once they started stitching me back up and my uterus won't contract so they had to add a bag of Oxytocin and one of a blood thickener(?) to my IV to help stop the bleeding. They were able to finish suturing, but I spent the entire afternoon in recovery, where they added a bag of pain reliever to the ones hanging on my bed. I waited for my anesthesia to wear off so I could move my legs again. By then, they also had the results of my CBCs, which they did twice to ensure that I was gaining back the blood I had lost. (Thank goodness I had, otherwise, a bag of type O would have been added to the bags of other stuff hanging on my IV pole.)

I was returned to the room at 7:30PM. Paul and I then decided that we would room-in the baby since he had to be breastfed and I couldn't get off of bed to do so at the nursery. Suffice to say, my long day was followed by an even longer night, and long days to come.