Monday, April 1, 2013

...And Then There Were Three, Part II

So there I was, hiding behind a drape, with my arms stretched out and tied down, trying to forget that I was having a c-section.  "Talk to me," I ordered Jon.  "I don't want to think about what's going on."

So he began babbling about something, and I started to feel...tugging.  That's when I realized they had begun and I thankfully hadn't felt the initial incision.  Instead, as I lay there, I felt like something was being yanked around in my abdomen.  Huh, I thought, Now this is some weird stuff.  Then my neck started hurting.  And then I felt some major pressure in my chest, and then I heard my doctor welcoming my baby into the world.

But he wasn't crying.

I looked at Jon, and as I spoke I heard my voice tremble.  "He's not crying.  Why isn't he crying?"

"He's fine," my doctor's voice soothed me from behind the curtain.  "He just needs a little help learning how to breathe."

I would have freaked out at that comment, but the pressure in my chest was building.  I now know that it was air pockets, but it felt very uncomfortable and my pain medicine guru John asked me if I wanted more pain meds.  I heartily said yes.  Then I asked Jon to rub my neck.  Then I begged for my arms to be untied, because I thought that might help with the pressure/pain (turned out I was wrong, but oh well).  Then I called to my doctor, "Hey, so can I get a free tummy tuck?"

She laughed and said that she thought my tummy was just fine.  And I started to hear cries--nothing had ever sounded sweeter.

I was starting to get woozy from the pain meds when they finally brought my sweet angel over.  He just stared at me, and I at him.  "Hello, sweetheart," I crooned drowsily as I rested my cheek against his (Jon held him up for me).  "I love you.  I'm glad you're here."

Unlike my two previous deliveries, after which I immediately got to cuddle my baby and try to nurse, he was taken away from me to the nursery and I was sent to recovery.  I managed to talk to my mom (not too sure how coherent I was, but I somehow got through a conversation with her) and had Jon call my best friend and some other people.  Then he left me in recovery to go get Bug and Cat (we had a friend watching them) and I started to become more alert and took stock of the situation.

First off, I totally couldn't move my legs.  That was something that would have to be remedied.  I focused all of my energy on trying to wiggle my toes--which I managed with some success after an hour of being in the recovery room.  Second, they kept me connected to the epidural machine, which meant that I could push a button and have magical pain medicine delivered.  And I liked that.  I liked that a lot.

Unfortunately, my hair still smelled like vomit. And even though I felt pretty darn crappy, I wanted to be with my baby.  However, his glucose was low (thanks, gestational diabetes) so they had to give him some formula and our reunion was delayed after he fell asleep and they decided not to wake him.  My recovery nurse assured me they would let me see my darling as soon as possible, and in the meantime, I should probably keep hitting that button.

So when I left recovery I could wiggle my left toes and move my whole right foot.  I was becoming much more conversational--when I met my nurse one of the first things I asked her was, "Hey, so from what I understand, you'll let me eat once I start passing gas, right?"  She bit back a chuckle and said yes, if I started farting, I could have food.

I promptly made that my next mission, and I had success, which meant she brought me a breakfast menu so I could order some food.  I continued to wiggle my feet and finally started getting some feeling back in my legs--and then in my abdomen.  That wasn't such a good feeling, so I hit the button for more pain meds.

And then I was finally reunited with my sweet baby.  We tried nursing (not a lot of success--I actually wound up squeezing colostrum out of myself and rubbing it on his tongue).  I had to give him a few more mL of formula to keep his sugars stable, but after that I was able to get him to latch on and eat for me.

In the meantime, I couldn't do anything since I wasn't allowed out of bed, so my nurse basically waited on me hand and foot--and my baby, who seriously pooped every five minutes.  She was phenomenal, constantly checking on me, making sure I had water (which I had demanded immediately after I had arrived in my room).  Oh, and she let me have a popsicle too--which, after not being allowed to eat all day, was heaven.

So my newest baby boy and I got to know each other...and then my other OB showed up.

Stay tuned!