I’m pleased to report that I’m home again from the hospital. I now have 2 children and am relieved to inform you that I do, in fact, love them both. That is something that you worry about, you know, when you have your second (+) kid. At least I did. I took a ton of notes on my iPhone to make sure stuff stayed in my head, so there will probably be several installments of our hospital adventure. I’m also going to have Will dictate his observations from the delivery since that amuses me to do so. It seems it was more of an extreme experience this time. Stay tuned for that.
Anyway, we left for the hospital bright and early Friday morning since we had to be there by 5:00 to start my prep. Neither Will nor I slept well. Whenever I have to be somewhere important so early I’m always totally paranoid I’ll oversleep and miss it. With my luck, I would be the one to sleep through my c-section. We managed to sneak out without waking Stella. I had my first meltdown as we drove away, feeling terrible for not saying goodbye. What if that was IT, you know? I can say this stuff now that we’re all home healthy and safe. Anyway, we drove away like ninjas in the night.
This time I managed to get checked in and prepped without sobbing like a wuss. That was better. We had a newbie nurse in OR prep. She was nice but did F up my IV. Since I’m totally IV-phobic, that was a big damn deal for me. It also required that the second attempt go into my right hand vs. my left, which sucked for the next 24 hours. I swear those things are so big and bulky it’s like having an intravenous whiskey still stuck in your hand. It catches on everything and anything. I had my second and final meltdown as they were pushing me over the threshold of the OR for my final preparations. Will was pretty dazed and the nurses had to inform him that his wife was crying and that perhaps he ought to say goodbye and that all was well.
I asked the anesthesiologist immediately for what my OB calls “the margarita.” I didn’t quite realize last time that they had given me something like that for nerves but by damn I wanted it this time and the sooner the better. The epidural wasn’t as bad as I remembered. Maybe the epidural guy was better this time. I do know it took longer to kick in and that they had to inject extra. I had a brief “oh shit” moment before the margarita kicked in, wondering if I’d be one of those people on Oprah who talk about being totally awake and un-numb for surgery. I wasn’t. Obviously. I tried to pretend the catheter wasn’t happening. That just seems so undignified. The OR nurses chattered about what we were naming the kid. That was seriously the hot topic of the whole morning and we still didn’t know.
My OB stuck her head over the curtain and said they were ready but figured they ought to get Will first. Good idea. As soon as he sat down it was on. They had those OR lights over me. I remember from before it was so clean- like a mirror -that even in my margarita-daze I had to try not to see what was going on in the reflection. These lights were different and also had cleanser/water spots on them. It made it easier to ignore what I didn’t want to see, anyway. The first major thing was the smell of the cauterizing scalpel (I guess). I made my customary “I don’t want steak/BBQ tonight for dinner” joke. It always gets a laugh.
Time is funny in margaritaville. There was a clock on the wall, so I knew this stuff didn’t take long. Next thing I knew the docs said it was time to pull him out. They had a pretty hard time with that. I can remember the doctors practically cursing and saying that we were really making them work, that he was stuck. It felt violent and like they were trying to push him out through my throat rather than pull him out of my gut. Finally they got him. That’s when everything else becomes not even secondary. All I wanted to do is see him and make sure he was ok.
The first major surprise was his size. He was “only” 7 lbs, 4 oz. I know that’s perfectly respectable for a baby but given his level of movement I just knew he would be a 9 pounder. He was 21.5” long, so while he didn’t weigh as much as Stella, he was a bit longer. APGAR and stuff were all great. I vaguely remember my OB telling me they were tying my tubes and a bit later that they were almost done stapling. I did get a bit alarmed at that, as I don’t remember staples last time. It seems they did use them but they’re internal and dissolve. Wow! What next!?
Back in recovery, the whole world was demanding a name. I had texted my dad and it was not enough to know the boy’s size and that all were well and healthy, they wanted to know WHO he was. I got kind of irritated at that point. It also felt like Will and I couldn’t get a moment alone and in peace to really talk about it.
We landed on Felix Stark. Felix had been on the short list – at least mine. Stark is our nod to the slightly strange. Will said there was an architect he liked with that name, but I’m also totally into reading Game of Thrones right now and Stark is the most normal name in the naming repertoire. Stella’s nanny reminded me that there is also a character in the Bleach manga/anime universe, so the nerd factor rose a bit there as well. Not everyone has seemed to approve of the name but I guess that’s the case with any kid’s name. I think it sounds good. We like it and he’s doing awesome.
There will definitely be a lot more later as I’m able. I have 2 days’ worth of hospital adventures to document as well as Will’s version of the birth. I know it’s not as dramatic and tear-jerking as the more “customary” birth stories, but it’s ours. And maybe for some folks out there who end up with sections who didn’t necessarily want them, it will make you feel better and more at ease.