Click here to read Part 1.

So where was I?

Oh yes – I was just walking to the operating room and getting ready to meet my baby. Walking to the operating room was weird. I mean, how many times do you see people in movies and on TV walking calmly to a room where they are about to be given loads of drugs and then cut open? No, the trip usually involves a guerny and tearful farewells and best wishes from loved ones. Not for me. I had to walk in my hospital gown (witch thankfully are a little less revealing than they used to be so at least my butt was covered) pulling my own IV drip.

When I reached the operating room it looked strangley familiar. I have a strong feeling it may have been the very same room where I delivered Thomas but I suppose all of the rooms look alike and I WAS under the influence of drugs and in labour with Thomas over two years ago so my recollection could be hazy. But wouldn’t it be cool if i was the same room? Let’s pretend it was. 🙂

Now for the moment I had been dreading – the spinal injection. A very important part of the process to ensure I feel no pain, but scary nonetheless. It was a little painful but once that medication kicked in I was feeling a lot better – for a few moments at least. 

In my last post I talked about how the anesthesiologist mentioned that I may feel a little dizzy and that this would be a normal reaction as the medication kicked in. Well I don’t bother medical professionals when something is normal. I am not the sort of person who will go to the doctor for a cold or a stomach bug. I prefer not to bother people when I am suffering a “normal” illness. I figure it will pass. So when I started feeling a little dizzy I just kept laying there like everything was normal. I answered questions and included myself in the conversation and continued to do so even when the room started spinning, the voices started to get further and further away and the nausea kicked in. I even began contemplating the logistics of throwing up when I could barely move my head (How can I best miss my hospital gown so I don’t smelllike puke when the baby arrives).

After what felt like an eternity, my slowing heart rate must have given them a clue because FINALLY someone asked if I was feeling OK and I had the opportunity to tell them (albeit carefully so as not to disturb my quesy stomach) that I was a little nauseous. “Oh we can fix that!” was the reply. Really? Then why didn’t you tell me that while you explained the process? Why did you tell me it was normal to feel this way? Sure enough, a little something added to my IV and I was back to reality again in time to see Kei joining me in the room.

I’ll skip the gory details of the delivery only to say that they cut me open, pulled out the kid and there was a lot of blood. Kei has it all on video if you ever have the need to see it. I’ve seen it and can look past the gore to the miracle of birth but those with weaker stomachs may not be able to do the same. The feeling of a c-section is a little difficult to explain. There’s no pain, just waiting and a lot of tugging at your mid section. There’s also a feeling of helplessness that I’m sure doesn’t exist when you are actually “working” through labour. Of course my mind wandered occasionally to the fact that I was naked from the waist down and that about 5 people were gathered around my nether regions, but I didn’t dwell on it (much).

After about 10 minutes (I guess) I heard the screams of my baby boy as he was lifted out. They showed him to me over the curtain and I remember thinking two things 1. that he looked just like his brother and 2. he had enormous purple testicles (apparently this is normal). Once I had got past these two details I started worrying. Tests during my early stages of pregnancy had come back with a 1:100 chance that my baby would have Downs Syndrome. This was the moment of truth. Thankfully my fears were unfounded and I cursed the 20 weeks where I had this little statistic in the back of mind for no good reason. He was perfect!

Kei went with the baby while they performed tests and again I waited until I was finally able to see him again. They brought the scale over to my line of sight and I was able to see him as they weighed him for the first time. Holy Cow! 8 pounds 1 ounce! It may not seem that heavy but after you have had a 6 pound 8 ounce baby you are just not as prepared for such a healthy size.

As I expected all along he was beautiful, with a head of dark hair and gorgeous dark brown eyes. They even let me hold him for a little while as they stitched me up and I can only describe that moment as surreal. Suddenly I was the mother of two boys and all the waiting had ended. He was here and my life was again going to be different from this moment forward.

Coming soon: Part 3: THE BIRTH EXPERIENCE – AFTER… the finale. I really meet my little boy and I tackle the fear of breastfeeding failure and bonding with this latest addition to my family.