Monday, December 8, 2014

The Birth of a Kai: Part I: Triage

Leave it to me to break a scheduled c-section into 3 parts.  If you don't appreciate long-windedness here is the short version:  I walked into the hospital, said "I'm here for my c-section," they were all "Ok", and so they cut me open, pulled out Kai, and sewed me up.  The end.
Now here is my version:

October 2, 2014.  It is crazy to me to think about how I lived through 32 mundane, ordinary October 2nds and now suddenly it has become one of the most important days of my life.  Sometimes during nighttime feedings, I will lean back in the glider, close my eyes, and recall every detail of Kai's birth.  I love to try and relive the feelings I had the day October 2 wasn't so ordinary anymore.

To begin with, October 2 had been burning in my mind since the day I found out I was pregnant with Kai.  According to the calendar, October 2 was my due date.  However, my body wasn't in sync with the calendar and at our first ultrasound we learned my due date was actually October 9.  I was disappointed.   First, who ever wants to hear that they are a week less pregnant than they thought?  Second, isn't 10-2-14 such a pretty date?  In the end it didn't matter because I was able to schedule my c-section on the day I hit 39 weeks--10/2/14.

I awoke that morning and took my final shower.  I even blow dried my hair and straightened it as I knew I wouldn't feel like showering again for at least 36 hours, possibly longer.  I made sure my makeup was of "I'm attending a wedding" quality, threw the last few items in my hospital bag, and went downstairs to cuddle with Max.  I always thought I'd feel weepy  upon leaving him that morning, but I was too excited to be nostalgic.  My parents took a few pictures of us as a family of three and I remember getting a little peeved at Andres because I thought he was taking too long to pack his bag and load the car. 
 We arrived at the hospital a few minutes after 8:30 and went straight to triage.  I had two nurses and they hooked me up to monitors and started my IV.  I only had one nurse back with me when my IV was put in.  I must have looked like I had it all together because with Max I was crying and all these nurses came in to give me moral support and hold my hand.  She tried my left hand first but the IV wouldn't go past my vein?  Something like that.  It hurt like a mother and I definitely said the f-word when she pulled it out.  My right hand took the IV like a champ.  A painful champ, but at least it was quick.  My left hand started to cramp and bruise so I asked for some ice.  I also told the nurse that I was dying, which made her laugh.  I laughed too, because I knew I wasn't dying...but I actually sort of was.  Both my hands really hurt and it's hard to function without hands.
Andres and I hung out in triage for the next hour and a half or so.  It sounds like such a long time, but it went by incredibly fast.  Before I knew it, a team of nurses came in and threw a surgical cap over my hair.  Andres kissed me good-bye and left to change into scrubs while the nurses wheeled me to the OR.  That is when I started to get weepy and nostalgic.  For 2.5 years it had been just Max and me.  His whole life was about to change and he didn't even know it.  Our family would never be the same.  The nurse saw my tears and thought I was scared of the surgery, but really I was just mourning the loss of "the way things used to be."  My tears didn't last long, because as soon as I reached the OR I became extremely excited.  I also didn't have time to cry because once you are in the OR, there are things to do...

Stay tuned for part 2!

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