Today my original baby turns FOUR YEARS OLD! She's four! Which is one year closer to five, which is when she says she can start: saying "shit", driving the car and drinking beer. That oughta be one hell of a birthday....
In tribute to the person who changed my name to "MOMMMMMMMY, come wipe my butt!", here is the I post I wrote shortly after her birth, describing her birth day.
Friday, January 6, 2006 - Throughout my pregnancy I had a low lying placenta. So on Friday I went for a final check of its placement. At this time it is declared that the placenta is too low and a c-section is in order. We schedule the procedure for Monday, January 9th. I feel a personal, anal-retentive triumph in having scheduled the birth. Take that, bebe! I toddle on home and make a list of all the things I will accomplish with my "Last Childfree Weekend". I am in To Do List heaven.
Saturday, January 7, 2006
4:30am - I awake to the disturbing realization that I am wetting the bed. I lay there and bemoan the state of my pregnant body and its newly developed incontinence. I really thought I had managed to escape this particular pitfall of pregnancy.
4:32am - Hmmm, am still wetting the bed. Odd, I do not recall having THAT much to drink before bed. I get up and skeedaddle to the bathroom.
4:34am - Walking back to bed, I wet my pants AGAIN.
4:35am - *slaps self on forehead* Wait a minute! I am not losing control of my bladder! My water has broken!!!! I announce this to Jeff. He springs awake from a deep sleep. I am impressed. He asks me if I know who to call and/or what to do. I do not have the number handy. I grab a towel, wrap it around my waist and hobble off to the internet to look up the doctor's number.
4:40am - I say to the doctor on call,"My water just broke but my c-section is scheduled for Monday". She gently informs me that, despite my schedule, the baby will need to be born today. Take that, mama! I take a minute to grieve the To Do List I had prepared for today. I ask if I can take a shower before we go to the hospital, as my hair is greasy. She allows me this accomodation and I hang up.
5:30am - I have showered, blow dried, applied make up and packed a hospital bag in record time. Jeff has made himself a cup of tea. We are ready to have a baby. We hop into the car and head off. Being civic minded, we find time to drop by the library on the way to the hospital to drop off a book that was due.
6:00am - We arrive to find a passel of nurses behind the check in desk. I again announce that my water has broken but that my c-section is Monday. I am again told the baby will be born today. The To Do List can't get any respect. Bebe has won. I make a note on my Memo to Santa.
6:30am - We are shown to our "Birthing Suite". Its lovely, complete with whirlpool tub and a delightful little patio. I am issued a flattering hospital gown, some monitors are strapped to the belly and the paperwork parade begins.
7:00am - The IV Incident.
I am becoming nervous about the pending surgery and the needles that I will become acquainted with before that can even begin. The nurse is getting ready to start IV. Because I am a total glutton for punishment I ask,"So does the IV hurt?" and she responds with a pitying expression and,"Yeah its pretty uncomfortable" *Blink,blink* Whatever happened to,"This won't hurt a bit" ?!?!?!?
Her foreshadowing of the pain coming my way sends me straight into panic mode. Ironically enough when I panic my veins apparently go and hide out in Siberia somewhere. So now the nurse cannot find a vein and I cannot find my way back to calm. She calls another nurse. This nurse, she is a brave little soldier. She will not be deterred by my veins' disappearance. She marches forward and begins to DIG for a vein. It felt as though she was driving nails straight into my bones.
(I should stop now and say that this IV thing was the only real discomfort I experienced in my entire child birth experience and for that I count myself lucky. Its just that it was truly horrifying pain, at least for me and I have to talk about it because its all I have. I have no 24 hours of labor or gruesome contractions or pushing the baby out stories. All I have is a gnarly IV story and I will milk it for all its worth.)
Its at this point that I start to sweat and the room starts to spin. Jeff and the nurses are talking to me, I can tell by their faces, but I cannot hear them at all. I fizzle out for a minute. They open a window and throw some cold, wet towels on my head. My hearing comes back and a sense embarrassment hits instantly. I passed out. From the IV. Women all up and down the corridor are sweating through labor and delivery and I passed out. FROM THE IV. I am awarded the "Sissy of the Day" title.
I get a little misty-eyed over the fact that I still have to face the spinal block needle in the operating room. I ask the nurse if that is better or worse than the IV (Why do I gamble with my emotional health by asking these questions!?!?) She repeatedly assures me that the IV is way worse and that I will be fine. She tells me this is the happiest day of my life. I decide thats real easy for her to say, from her non-IV stabbed side of the situation.
8:15am - The nurses wheel me to the operating room while Jeff dons scrubs. I have to endure the spinal on my own. He can come in once I am numb. The surgical assistant introduces herself as I climb onto the table and my gown falls open in the back. Nervousness has taken over my ability to behave normally so I say,"Hi Rosie, I'm Katie and that is my butt". She responds,"Hello Butt, nice to meet you" I decide I like Rosie a lot. So much so that I can face the spinal if she will hug me while the doctor stabs me. And lo and behold, the spinal was NOTHING. Little pin prick of pain and voila! Relief came over me in the form of a sudden need to talk a million miles a minute. The surgical staff dutifully listens to me ramble on and on while my legs go numb.
8:30am-8:40am (I am not exactly sure, I forgot to bring the palm pilot into the OR with me for note taking) - Jeff enters the operating room and the surgery begins. I have made him promise not to watch the surgery. I look up and he is watching the surgery. I smack at him with my free arm (the nurse has a pretty strong grip on the other one for reasons I am unaware of) and tell him to stop looking. He says, with his eyes firmly looking over the curtain at the surgical field,"I am not watching.." We play this game for the next 10-20 minutes, until...
8:56am - Anna is born! They hold her over the curtain so I can see her. There are tears from the whole family. Then she is whisked away for whatever it is they do with her, maybe a pedicure or something. Jeff wanders off to take pictures.
The rest of our stay passed in a drug induced and baby-love coated haze. All in all, a lovely weekend getaway, I highly reccommend it.
*Based on a true story, some details may be enhanced for comedic effect. (Don't get all Oprah to my James Frey and ask for back up on every single statement. Much of this occured during early morning hours and/or under the influence of narcotics. I am recounting my memory/interpretation of the events)
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