This is probably going to be a nice long rambly disjointed post, because that’s what birth stories are. I’m not sure mental clarity is at its finest in the days post birth.
With the Mini, I had a momentary lapse of reasoning moment, just minutes before walking back to the operating room to be sliced open. Because of that, I had Ativan in my IV and most of it is a giant blur. I was determined to not do that this time, because I hate that I have so little memory of a rather big event in my life.
Having been through a c-section once before, I found myself much more anxious this time around. I’m such an anxiety ridden mess naturally, so I shouldn’t have been surprised, but I was. I guess maybe because I knew what to expect. But I found myself having mini panic attacks at the thought of surgery.
Our c-section had gotten moved up from 12:30, to about 7:45am, which meant that I had to be up and out the door before the crack of dawn, and that was tough. I was more upset that I wouldn’t be able to get up and see the Mini off to school, something I wanted to do one last time.
We get to the hospital and got to share an elevator with a woman who was in pretty intense labor. She was pretty surprised at my nonchalant nature. I felt bad that I would probably have gone through the whole birth and recovery before she did.
They get us set up in our room, ask the 9 million questions, give you the endless amounts of paperwork that you have to fill out, hook up the IV and then make you wait. Our nurse had no sense of humor, and pretty much fled the room once everything was said and done. I think I heard her whisper “CRAAAAAAAAAAZY” as she left. I also tend to make an ass out of myself with what I think is witty humor when I’m in anxiety ridden situations, such as being sliced open. Either way, we got another nurse that assisted me for the remainder of the day, and I was glad that she was at least a little more with my funny program. Of course, we were delayed because of other people needing epidurals (wusses), but before I knew it, I was being walked back to the operating room feeling scared shitless and surreal. And that’s pretty much how I would describe the whole process, now that I remember it: surreal.
We get the whole spinal rocking and rolling and the room was just really eerie. There was no music. An OB technician was standing there in the corner with his arms crossed, like some bouncer. I decided he probably didn’t subscribe to my humor program and thought better than to crack a joke (also, the anesthesiologist didn’t have a sense of humor either. I didn’t hold that against her given that she was sticking needles in my spine). I absolutely hated the numbness feeling, although, I don’t know of anyone who actually likes that feeling.
The doctor came in, followed by the Meester who was really great about keeping me calm. Before I knew it, they told me they were starting. It seemed to go on forever because of it being a repeat c-section. It was all really impersonal, and that was one of the things I had a hard time with. The Mini’s birth, while hazy, was still a really personal experience. I had one doctor from start to finish. This doctor barely knew my name and I had only seen him one other time. The anesthesiologist was good about letting the Meester know when it was time to get the camera ready, and I felt them yank her from my insides and heard her scream like there was no tomorrow. She was pissed and let everyone know about it. I bawled. I remember crying with the Mini, but not nearly as much as I did with her. I was also annoyed that I didn’t get to see her right away (the Mini’s OB was really great about showing him to me over the curtain before whisking him away), and had to listen to her scream, which as the Mama, was really distressing.
Finally, they showed her to me, as we were both bawling. I don’t know that I’ve ever seen the Meester as happy as he was the day he saw his children brought into this world. As they were working on putting all of my internal organs back, the OB told me that he was going to start the tubal and to speak now or forever hold my peace. About halfway through, I asked him if it was too late to stop, and he made a crack (finally, someone who is funny around here!). Before I knew it, I was being brought back to my room. The Meester and baby girl were already in there getting all situated. It took awhile before I was finally able to hold her and see her for more than 5 second intervals.
I’ve had a really hard time with so many things this time around. There were far too many different nurses walking in and out of my room on a regular basis this time. Two nurses that I’ve had this week could have given Amy and Maya a run for their money, though annoying at first, one of them turned out to be really cool and helpful. The other thing that has been different was my lack of bonding. It’s taken me a little longer to bond with her for some reason, which has surprised me. We’re getting there, though, it doesn’t help that she’s already being hogged by Daddy, and is a big time Daddy’s girl. It’s nice to watch her light up when she hears his voice. I can’t really complain, since I have my Mama’s boy.
Speaking of which, the Mini is also coming around to his baby sister. He gives her kisses and actually looked for her when he came to visit yesterday. I had absolutely no expectations of what his reaction would be when he first saw her. He definitely was pretty pissed off to see me being monopolized by another person other than him. He’s given me big hugs and kisses on his own free will, so I think he’s forgiven me. It should be interesting to see how things will be once he realizes that “baby sistwer” is coming to live with us when we bust out of this joint tomorrow. And we’re both really ready. Although, we should probably take advantage of this very boring quiet time with just her. Tomorrow, the chaos known as the rest of my life, starts with gusto. No more training wheels.