I was blessed with a very uneventful pregnancy. Even though I chose to see a high-risk doctor, I was never considered high-risk. As the doctor said, "I expect this to be a very normal pregnancy, other than the fact that you will need to have a C-section." In subsequent appointments, he would tell us how "boring" the pregnancy was... which we all preferred. I never had morning sickness; the only time I really felt sick because of the pregnancy was before I knew I was pregnant and I went to church fasting. By the end, walking was more difficult, mostly because my belly was heavy and the pressure could quickly become too much, but I imagine that's not an uncommon symptom for many women. My favorite thing, by far, was just feeling him move, especially when I knew that it was in response to our voices. Even in the womb, he was very active for much of the day... including when I was walking. But he would hardly move at all at night, unless I got up--which was usually once each night.
We even made it to our scheduled date for the C-section, at 39 weeks and 3 days. I was grateful that the doctor wanted to make it that far, and I was grateful that both my body and the baby cooperated. Living at a high elevation means there can be a greater likelihood that even a full-term baby will need supplemental oxygen; that risk increases with a C-section. Josh and I were very much hoping and praying for George to have fully-developed lungs and not to need a NICU stay. (We discussed it beforehand, though. Josh told me if they had to rush George away immediately after he was born, he'd be torn about whether to follow or to stay with me. I told him he should follow and stay with the baby.)
I only ever had one real contraction, the evening before George was born. I guess maybe I was supposed to experience what a contraction felt like for me. But it was just the one, and nothing more. It was a blessing to be able to get a good sleep that night. Most of the people I know who had major struggles following a C-section also labored for many hours beforehand. When it's planned and scheduled, it's still major surgery... but not as bad.
The morning George was born, we took some time at home for last-minute preparations and to read scriptures together, since we didn't fully know what the day would bring--only that we would likely be exhausted by the time it was over. When we got to the hospital, we learned that the person who had been scheduled before me hadn't shown up. (I'd love an explanation of that. You schedule a C-section, and then you don't show? Really?) In any case, that meant that they could get me in more quickly than expected. In other words, there would be far less waiting around than we originally thought. Hooray!!! Waiting just produces more anxiety for everyone...
I had been in for blood work the previous morning to expedite things when we checked in for surgery. When I asked for a butterfly needle then, the nurse called a phlebotomist, as well. And they decided to have anesthesia, rather than the nurse, place the IV when we were prepping for surgery. Oh, the little things!!!! I must say: in dealing with everything else, it made a huge difference to have people who knew what they were doing, so I didn't end up with a very bruised arm.
We also had a consultation with anesthesia again before heading into the OR. The anesthesiologist there that day had a slightly different plan than the one we had consulted a few weeks previously. (For background, we had some concerns about getting a spinal tap or epidural, since I did know that my spinal column was too narrow for a Harrington rod when my spine was fused when I was 13. They weren't concerned about that, but the fusion was a concern; they wondered whether they would be able to get in.) The anesthesiologist that day mentioned that he had worked with a couple of other little people. He didn't like the previous idea of doing a combined spinal and epidural, because it would require going in with a needle more than once. He felt confident in a lower dose of the spinal and outlined the risks of it being either too much or too little--either way, it would involve me being put under for the delivery. Our hope was still that it would work as planned, that I could be awake, and that Josh could be in the OR. He would have to wait until they knew for sure, though.
Having them place the spinal tap was awkward, but they were able to get in. I stayed sitting for a few moments afterward, so it would drop into my legs initially. Then they had me lie down. They tested over and over again--I'm not really sure how long--to see whether I had gone numb. I know Josh was beginning to feel anxious... even without being with him, I knew he would hate the waiting game at that point. I was also beginning to feel anxious that I wouldn't go numb like I needed to, so I was glad when I finally did. They brought Josh in just after they began operating.
Even though the surgery was not scheduled until 11:30 am, George was born at 11:08 (though I didn't know the exact time until later, obviously). It was a beautiful sound to both of us (Josh and me) to hear his good, strong lungs as he entered the cold operating room. It was clear that our prayers had been answered, and he was prepared to breathe! Josh had stood up quickly when they told him to "get ready," and he quickly crossed the room as doctors and nurses did a quick exam and cleaned, diapered, and wrapped George. As soon as they let him, he took him; George's screams stopped almost instantly. (He still soothes very easily with hugs and gentle words.) I was left to wonder what exactly was happening, though; it took Josh a minute or two to realize that I probably wanted to see George, too. At that point, he came back up by my head with George, where I was able to touch him and talk to him as the doctors put me back together.
I know at one point, I shut my eyes briefly, and Josh asked whether I was okay. I just nodded. I didn't trust myself to talk at all right then. I was grateful to have him and George right there with me. Let's just say that no matter how well the spinal tap works, you still know they are working on you, and it's not terribly comfortable to feel organs being put back in place. I'm sure they weren't literally shoving things in, but it kind of felt like it. They also took a little longer than normal, because they were able to use stitches both inside and outside (no staples!!!!). I was very grateful for that later, since they didn't actually have to remove anything later.
When I was finally stitched up again, I was able to sit up a little and finally got to hold my sweet boy! I didn't want to let him go. I loved seeing Josh hold him. It also made me happy when we reached the recovery room and my mom and sister, Christine, got to meet and hold him, too. But it was so special to be able to hold my sweet son... the little one I had carried inside me for the previous 9 months!
All in all, I would say things went very smoothly with surgery and recovery, as well. I despise narcotics, but I handled the morphine that was part of the spinal, and they talked me into taking a single dose of narcotics post-surgery. After that, I said I really didn't want them; I stuck with mainly ibuprofen, though I alternated with acetaminophen for a few days. For me, the pain was well-managed just with those. I also experience very little nausea from the surgery and meds... really only once mid-surgery. By the time I was back in a room, I just wanted to eat. Of course, they only offered crackers at first, and I was little frustrated after they cleared me for real food and then the food services person came in and made me order all clear liquids for dinner. That got worked out quickly enough, though, and I was able to eat real food.
As to the hospital stay as a whole... who actually sleeps in hospitals? Ugh! I was extremely grateful when they asked me a day earlier than expected if I wanted to go home. Ummmm... yes! Thankfully, George was also cleared to be released; he had lost more weight than they wanted him to, and we were definitely still working on getting comfortable with breastfeeding. But going home was by far the best thing for both of us. I had a lot of help from my mom in getting George to learn to nurse well, and both George and I were far more relaxed at home. And we were finally out of the clutches of the pediatrics team, who pushed so hard for us to supplement with formula, even making a note that my arms were "too short" for breastfeeding. (We did supplement a little with pumped breastmilk in the beginning, but George preferred nursing even then, for which I am very grateful.)
This past year has been a wonderful one with lots of learning for all of us. I may post more blogs later--assuming I find the time again. But I wanted to take a few minutes to get down the birth story finally. :)
