I’ll admit I was nervous. Especially when I knew I was mere moments away from being wheeled into the maternity OR. I was really nervous. Recalling Jeremy’s birth experience put me on edge. I do not fear c-sections, but I did fear that breathless feeling I had when they were pulling him out. I didn’t want to go through that again, but I was prepared. I looked to Rich to be my rock in those last minutes.
Then they took me away. He stayed in the prep/recovery area waiting to be called into the room once all my stuff was in place and the surgeon was ready to cut me open like he was slicing through butter.
I sat still for what seemed like an eternity while the spinal block was done — all hunched over hugging my nurse feeling the cold liquid drip down my back and the strange pinch as the needle was inserted. They quickly laid me back, strapped my arms down, and the warmth started to tingle down my legs. I kept saying “I can feel that”, “should I feel that”, “I felt that” as they were preparing my lower abdomen for birth. Then the oxygen tubes were inserted into my nose. I sure do like pure oxygen. It’s nice and soothing.
My OB asked me if I could feel “that”. I said “no”. He said “I’m cranking on you pretty hard so if you weren’t numb, my dear, you’d be screaming at me right now”. Ok, doc, I trust you. Go for it.
Rich came in and sat down on my left side by my head. I could only see his eyes and hear his voice and I was suddenly ready to go through whatever it took to hear our baby cry.
The midwife assisting in the surgery was a gentle woman. I had seen her several times throughout my pregnancy and I trusted her too. She was the one doing the pushing while my OB was the one delivering the baby. She pushed twice and his head was out. That’s it.
No breathlessness. No discomfort. No fear.
Baby crying. Lots of crying and “ooohs and aaahhhs” from the surgical staff. Commotion all over the place. Smell something burning. Gross out time, that’s me burning — tubal ligation immediately following delivery.
“It’s a boy”. “BOY!” “What’s his name, Mom?” “Jaxon”. “APGAR is 9 and 9”. “He’s so pink, Mom.” “What a chunky little guy.” “He’s so cute.” “A healthy baby, Mom, good job and congratulations!” “Yes, congratulations you guys!!”
Then he was with me. My little Jaxon. My little miracle. My sweet baby boy.
Staples. Taking baby. Rich leaves to go to the nursery to watch his first bath. I am wheeled to recovery. It’s over.
So. Very. Happy.