As I said in the final pregnancy update post, we made it to the morning of week 39. This was the day we had scheduled the c-section way back in November. I'm just surprised we actually made it to the planned day.
We spent a nice last night together as a family of four. The morning was exciting. I don't totally remember the events at the house. I know we needed to get the kids up and dressed. We fed them a little something (although I made my husband handle the food since I was fasting). We put all of our hospital stuff in the car. The kids grabbed their bags for Grammie's house. And we climbed in and drove south.
My mom met us in the hospital parking lot and took the kids. They were going to stay with her for most of my hospital stay. There was a flurry of excitement, love and a little bit of apprehension (you know, fear of the unknown).
When I went in to see my high risk doctor earlier in the week, she and I were discussing the delivery plan. I told her the hospital had scheduled me for a 12:30pm delivery, and therefore I needed to be at the hospital at 10:30am to check in. I had been privately unhappy about the timing because I was also told not to eat or drink ANYTHING after midnight the night before. For a regular prego, this is not a fun prospect... but I was diabetic and really unsure how my body would handle fasting for so long. The doc picked up on that right away when I relayed the timeline to her. She said, "No way. That's too dangerous. You can't fast at your house. You need to be monitored." Then she called the scheduling coordinator and changed my check in time to 8-8:30am.
My morning instructions went something like this:
Take half your bedtime insulin dose the night before.
Eat something around 11:30pm.
Get to the hospital at 8:30am.
Tell the nurses you are insulin-dependent and currently fasting.
Make sure they check your blood sugars every hour until the surgery. - Bring your own tester though, in case they are busy.
Raise holy hell if your sugar drops below 95.
So Stu and I made our way to the OB floor (me via wheelchair). And we moved into our pre-op room.
The next few hours went by fairly quickly. It certainly did not seem like it was 4 hours.
Stu and I had fun snapping silly photos. After all, this is the last time I will ever have a baby in my belly. And as big as I was, as uncomfortable as pregnancy can be, I will miss this.
Shortly before 12:30, it was time to get moving. My nurses were busy prepping me for the operation. My OB came in and was like, "Let's go. What's taking so long?" (silly guy) Then he ushered me down the hall, more like I was a giant 747 coming in for landing than a prego headed for the OR. It was a nice way to cut my mounting tension and nerves. Even though I have made this walk before, I was still a pile of nervous energy.
As per standard procedure, Stu had to wait just outside the OR until I was totally prepped and ready to go.
This time was different than I remember. With Reagan's birth, I feel like there were many more people in the Operating Room. But that could just be my distorted memory.
Anyway, all of a sudden it was time for the spinal. Ugh. My least favorite part. The hardest part for me is mentally blocking out what is actually happening while staying perfectly still. Immediately I knew something was off... my legs felt warm, but my body didn't feel like it weighed a ton. With the previous two babies, my body went fairly limp within seconds of feeling the big pinch. As I was laid down on the table, I was waiting for that to come. It did not.
As I lay there, with a flurry of busy people all around me, I was beginning to panic. I could still feel parts of my body. I could feel my feet and legs. Even though the sterile blue sheet was up, I could feel them brushing on the iodine and placing different objects on my legs.
Panic. Full-blown panic.
I did not have full feeling, that's for sure. But I had MUCH more than I ever had with my first two kids. I could actually lift my legs off the table this time. I saw the nurses eyes go wide when both my feet elevated a few inches. The anesthesiologist was insistent that all went according to plan.
Fear. Anger. Panic.
My doctor told me had had begun the operation. And I had not noticed. So I lay there absolutely tense and terrified. My husband had come in at some point. I don't even know when. It was like he materialized next to me. I think I squeezed his hand hard for the entire procedure. I cried the entire time.
Then it was all worth it.
They said it was baby time. Get ready for the pressure.
Lots of pressure.
Then baby cries! Amazing, loud, baby cries.
They dropped the curtain and lifted my head. I saw my sweet, screaming baby boy laying on my opened abdomen. My first thought (and I probably said it out loud) was "Oh thank you God, he's cute!" Then I wanted the curtain to go back up... there is only so much of my own blood and guts that I can stand (and if you've been following for a while, you know that is a LOW threshold).
Baby screamed the entire time he was being checked out. Then they brought him over to us. The nurse placed him on my chest, and another nurse released my left arm so I could touch him.
And just like that, Remington was born. He weighed in at 8lbs even and was the longest of all the Stu monsters.
Remy and Stu left the OR a few minutes before I did. They were taken to my hospital room to wait for me. Once I arrived, Remy was placed on my chest for some skin-to-skin bonding.
In another post, I will share with you the rest of our hospital stay. This one was a bit lengthy.
If you would like to read about Riley's early delivery, you can in this post. I have never published the story of Reagan's delivery, since she was born pre-blog. I have it written down in one of our books, so perhaps I will post it one day.
Thanks for reading!
My oldest child, Reagan, is 11 and my son Riley is 9. Baby 3 should arrive in January 2019. Everyday is a crazy day in the life of the Stus!