I honestly must confess that your comments are the only kind of baby shower anyone could ever hope for. To hear from so many that I haven’t in a while; and the self-proclaimed lurkers; and many I have stalked quietly and add that to you lovelies that willingly humour me routinely on my crappiest of days…Thank You doesn’t quite encapsulate my humble appreciation.
I promise that I’m not sitting around, baby-mooning and neglecting you. In fact, I’ve been dieing to get back on the computer but I have the most ridiculous excuse: my hands. Fortunately I’m enjoying the lovely effects of pain meds that make it tolerable. A good thing, too, because I have much to tell you, and none of it particularly interesting.
Wednesday morning as we prepared leave the house, I hugged XBoy and my mother who was going to stay with him until we called, and headed out the car. Of course, Mr. DD was gathering up things at the last minute (camera, wallet, sunglasses, etc.) and putzing around. As I sat in the car waiting for him, XBoy came out red in the face and teary. I opened the door and he practically fell into my lap. I assumed he had just hurt himself so I began the typical quizzing.
He hadn’t fallen down or smashed a finger or was denied candy by grandma (as if). Instead he was frantic for me not to go. The scene became so bad that Mr. DD had to carry him back into the house and grandma had to hold him back while we quickly backed out the garage and drove away.
It ripped my heart out of my chest…I’ll never forget that moment.
As far as any pre-op stuffity-stuff, all went fairly smooth. The only moment of tension was when the OB nurse warned me that the anesthesiologists have been adamant that the OB surgical cases come back already with a catheter inserted. She encouraged me to hold my ground and request the cath post-spinal.
Sure enough, the anesthetist’s nurse came in and tried to make me feel as if I was wasting their time by not agreeing to the cath before hand, but I didn’t give a shit. If I could get a pap with sedation, I would insist on that, too.
Jump ahead to me numbed and splayed on the OR table. Right before they allowed Mr. DD in, I began to cry. It wasn’t just the months of waiting, it was the years. All leading up to those next few minutes where I would finally meet this other child…which sounds so incredibly selfish, I realize. I felt overwhelmed and so helpless.
Mr. DD joined me and I saw the tears in his eyes as well.
I tried to memorize and file away each moment of the surgery. The anesthesiologist (who was actually very kind) narrated what was happening or what was going to happen. I remember being told that they had started the incision on the uterus and then suddenly I was told the baby’s head was out. I heard everyone exclaim over the amount of hair. I heard suctioning of nasal and oral passages. I heard the cries and suddenly someone said, “It’s a girl!”
And of course, I sobbed anew as my husband leaned over and kissed my forehead and he also cried some more.
We experienced for the first time her temperament as she went from typical newborn mewling and crying to all out banshee-like screaming. I was briefly introduced before she was handed back over to her Dad where I continued to blubber and sob (gotta love those hormones), and then I was stitched back up and taken to recovery while Mr. DD enjoyed those first precious moments.
Wednesday basically passed in a blur – strangely in slow motion – of snap shots, mental and digital, of ZGirl’s arrival.
OK, yes, maybe I have been baby-mooning just a bit. But there’s more to the past few days then these rare moments of peace. More on that later.