A Birthday

I suppose I wouldn't be me if I didn't share all of the gory details about the day Jack took his first breath. And really, who doesn't want to know about such things.. That's why, I suppose, they have the surgery channel. But I do think that Jack's entrance was one of those moments that was somewhat unusual. And anyway, we want to preserve the memorie(s) for posterity.

It was midnight when I started to really feel the contractions. At 2:00, I woke up Rich and asked him to start timing, though I didn't really believe that what was happening was labor. It was, after all, Jack's due date and what baby is born on his due date? Plus my doc told me that if I could talk through the contractions, they probably weren't real or they were those pesky practice contractions. We noticed around 4:00 that they were fairly regular, but I still wasn't convinced. I told Rich that I refused to go to the hospital just to have them send me home, and anyway, I wanted to take a shower - which I did - in case they admitted me so that I would be somewhat presentable, and he needed to take one too - which he did to appease me.

At 5:00 we were en route to the hospital - a route that I would not have picked, by the way. I decided to bite my tongue (between contractions) instead of pointing out that the faster route is to take Matlock to Cooper as opposed to taking the highway we were on.. But I digress.

We walked through the emergency entrance, the hospital not being open yet, and the nursing staff asked if I was in labor. I said, "I think so." They put me in a wheelchair and took me up to triage where they assessed that I was in labor and dilating. They would admit me and that was sort of a victory to me.

All was as expected UNTIL:

A nurse proceeded to perform an exam -- one that included her hand and a very delicate part of my anatomy. She jumped back mid exam and screamed. She actually screamed, an action, as you may imagine, that is neither expected nor warranted when someone is that "close" to you with her hands in delicate places. She then turned to her fellow triage nurse and screeched,

"Something grabbed me!"

I'm not sure what the response of the second nurse was, seeing as I was mumbling some dumb ass comment about delivering an alien and how ironic yet appropriate that would be. But the screamer replied, "Well, all I know is it wasn't a head. That baby is not head down. Call her doctor."

Panic.

All of a sudden, things began moving very quickly. Vitals were assessed, sonograms performed, needles inserted, liability paperwork signed (priorities!), and the next thing I knew someone was wheeling me into surgery, not having even told me what was going on. An anesthesiologist tried to make some hilarious jokes as he inserted a needle into my spine while others moved in a busy blur around me. Somehow I lost track of Rich and kept asking for him. Someone around me mentioned something about him putting on scrubs. "Arch your back like a scared cat" the anesthesiologist kept saying. I felt tears running down my cheeks. I heard various clicks, buzzes, and beeps. I saw Rich come into the room, scrub laden. I remember the iodine - it wasn't the right color apparently. I felt something akin to people folding towels on my abdomen, only I was acutely aware that there were no towels, only skin and organs. I heard a crying baby. I looked left, my arms held down, but tried to reach for him nonetheless. The crying was all I could focus on. It occurred to me that c-section babies couldn't be held immediately, that there would be no nursing and bonding right off.

After all of the stitches and staples, and crying and praying, they finally put Jack into my arms, only to take him away again so that they could discuss what to do with me. There were no rooms available, so they would have to send me to a different recovery room, called PACU. I wouldn't be able to have Jack or Rich with me there. I would have to stay there at least two hours.

And there I was. Alone in PACU. Having had a whirlwind of a "procedure". All I felt was exceedingly empty. No baby. No husband. Just sterile walls, and if I looked up and out the window, moving clouds. I had the thought that it must be a windy day. Jack was born on a windy day. And I missed him so much that I could hardly breathe.

Fortunately, the time in PACU passed. The nurses had mercy on us and broke the rules; Rich was allowed to come and see me. He reassured me that Jack was OK, though he hadn't been able to hold him either. Eventually they wheeled me into a private room and brought Jack to me.

And it was a most beautiful, miraculous moment. Though I knew it was a reality, I hadn't, until that moment, realized that I was actually going to be a momma. And here he was - Baby Jack - gorgeous and perfect. And I am the luckiest person in the world.