I hear of emergency C-sections happening pretty frequently. I'm sure Saturday morning was just a day in the life for our doctors, but for Gavin and I, and probably for Owen too, the morning of the 15th was quite terrifying!
- I put on leggings and a baggy t-shirt for the hospital. Gavin put on jeans and a polo because he "wanted to look nice for the baby". At all costs, Gavin avoids wearing anything but basketball shorts, so I got a kick out of the jeans and polo at 3 am thing.
- Gavin really wanted to run a red light on the way to the hospital because he had the most legitimate excuse in the book. Luckily, the few lights we hit were green.
- Walking to the car, Gavin tweaked his ankle. I gave him a nice talking to that I was the one in pain and he wasn't allowed to steal my thunder.
We got to the admit room around 3:15, where the nurses check mom and baby's heart rate, see how close to delivery you are, and decide whether to admit you or tell you to come back later. The nurse checked how far along I was and it was only a "1" (you have to be at a "10" to deliver), which was disappointing because that meant it was going to be a long time before I could pop out a baby.
Then I got heart rate monitors wrapped around me and had three strong contractions right in a row. Gavin was watching the monitor and said something to the affect of "does that mean the baby's heart rate just dropped?" As he was saying this, the nurse threw an oxygen mask on me, ordered me to get on my hands and knees, and started making phone calls. She looked panicked and said we weren't going home.
Another nurse came in the room and the crew wheeled me and the bed to a labor and delivery room. My doctor, the anesthesiologist, and a few other nurses showed up quickly. Nurses started working on getting an IV in my arm while my doctor started explaining that baby wasn't tolerating the contractions and we needed to do a C-section immediately. The anesthesiologist was also talking to me, having me sign papers, and agree to whatever he was going to do to me, which who knows what that was because I was in pain and scared for the baby and things were happening so fast!
- At this point Gavin was sitting in the rocking chair, and his face was WHITE. Nurses made him lay on the cold floor and they got him some coke to prevent him from passing out. We've all given him crap about this already! The plus side of this was it gave me something to keep my mind off the pain and panic.
Nurses and doctors started undressing me so that I could stay in the position on my hands and knees to keep oxygen going to the baby. Then they wheeled me into the operation room and put Gavin on a chair next to me.
The anesthesiologist had me sit up and face Gavin and roll my back so he could get the spinal thing in me. By "spinal thing" I mean the C-section version of an epidural where they insert a needle to make way for a tube to make way for a needle into my back. That's how I understood it at least. Physically, this was THE MOST MISERABLE part!
Anesthesiologist warned me I was going to feel a poke. I braced myself for it but ended up shrieking and feeling a strong electric shock down my left leg. I got poked a few more times with doctor yelling "where'd you feel that one?" and me trying to explain (through my tear-filled oxygen mask) the electrifying pain down my left leg, then my right leg, then my butt, then my right calf. I was teary through the entire process, but this was the part where I was actually sobbing. It was so. painful. and scary. I literally. literally. felt like I was the patient in a sucky game of operation. Words can't do this part of the story justice. I have yet to hear of anyone else being tazed by their anesthesiologist. I jumped every time a new spot on my back was pushed and the electric current hit me somewhere new. Gavin was trying to hold my arms down and keep me calm. Eventually the anesthesiologist stopped being nice and said "Madi. I need you to stop crying and hold still. We need to make this happen." Not that those are choice words to tell a pregnant lady in pain, but it brought me back down to earth for long enough that he could numb me.
By 5:12 am, baby was out. Apparently the trouble came from the cord being wrapped around our boy's body twice and neck once, so his oxygen was cut off every time I had a contraction. The doctors were so in the zone, they forgot to tell us whether it was a boy or girl. Nurses finally made the announcement and I was surprised with how happy and excited I was with it being a boy!
The crew started cleaning him up and putting me back together. For about the 15th time that night I asked if someone could fill me in what was going on. The anesthesiologist came and sat by me and talked me through the room: this is what they are doing with your baby and why, this is what they are doing with you and why. This put him back on my good side.
Around 5:30, the crew lifted me up onto another bed and wheeled me into a recovery room. For about 45 minutes I couldn't stop shaking. I was seriously wondering at what point would they consider me to be seizing. The nurses piled some hot blankets on me and even wrapped my head in some. It took a couple hours for my body to calm down and breath normal.
Gavin started calling/ texting family and friends. Somewhat of a "Boy Who Cried Wolf" story, but both our parents were at the hospital by 8:00 to meet their new grandson.
- Gavin's line of the day when telling the story was "That was not how I imagined it was all going to happen."
I'll journal more about our hospital stay eventually. I just needed to get this all in writing before I forgot the details. I'd say we are quite lucky to have a beautiful, healthy little boy home in his crib right now. The doctor said over and over how glad she was that we came to the hospital when we did. I'm so thankful for the spirit in our lives that got us there in time!
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