Wednesday, August 1, 2012

Life in L&D

Hello, world. I sit here writing this with a cup of cold hospital coffee next to my laptop, a ginormous scar across my abdomen that I refuse to look at for fear of vomiting, and the 2012 Olympics casting a nice light from across the room while the neat little soundbox is perched next to me. (Don't those things smack of the drive in speaker boxes that you'd hang on your door? Yes, I went to drive ins a time or two before they went extinct!)

Here I sit. Thinking about how our family is now a family of six. How our newest little girl, Riley Makaila, made her entrance yesterday via C-section and is doing wonderful. How she's the exact spitting image of her older brother, Boo, as a newborn. (It's kinda crazy how identical they look!)

My delivery story with Riley is so very different from her siblings. I was scared the entire week leading up to the surgery and had a hard time hiding it the past few days. She was breech and refused to turn the past few weeks and, so, the section was inevitable.

We arrived Tuesday (July 31, a wonderful day to have a birthday!) morning and I was all smiles and chatty until they started poking me with needles and talking spinal blocks. Barf. Our doc was in a particular rush to get the surgery underway, so they sort of rushed P and I through all the paperwork and medications and clothes changing until POOF!...I'm sitting on the OR table leaning on a stranger while the anesthesiologist is drilling for oil in my spine. (I was actually really upset that they made P wait outside during that part...I'm particularly terrified of needles in my vertebrae and do better when he's with me!)

The minute the numbing medication is in place, you have to lie down immediately and that sense of immediacy must have made me panic, because I started to hyperventilate, cry, and get sick from the rush of medication. Let's just say I was a little less than dignified those first few moments. Barfing up the nasty medicine shots they had me take before the OR room. Crying because I couldn't move enough to NOT panic (see of that makes sure doesn't to me now that I look back!) and the general feeling that my heart was beating so fast it was going to explode in my chest. It was hell.

The doc must have felt sorry for me or was sick of hearing me and my wailing death keen, because he knocked me clean off my butt with some wonder drug and the next thing I know, I feel a huge weight lifted up and off my chest (eww!) and then there was Riley. And she came out swinging and squalling and telling all those doctors and nurses all about themselves. Honestly, she's scored the highest on the Apgar test of all our babies and I think it was based purely on the loud trash-talking she was delivering. It was great!

I slept for the next 13 hours, I'm pretty sure. P said I was in a zombie-like state and that basically sums it up. I remember itching a lot because of the morphine and I was a sweaty sort of mess in the afternoon. But that's about it. Oh, and I was hungry. Damn hungry and resentful that they somehow though lime gelatin and chicken broth was anything less than an insult to a formerly pregnant chick who hadn't eaten in 17 hours. Really, people??

But day two? Well, it's much better. The whole "sawed in half" thing really makes hopping out of bed and dancing the can-can difficult, but I'm working on it. I love laying in my hospital bed on my butt (until my butt goes numb and I have to try to move without activating the deactivated core muscles) waiting for the next food tray. (Yes, I had chicken fried steak tonight. Woo hoo!)

There's hope I can go home early tomorrow and get back to my beloved, busy life with my beloved, busy family. I truly hope so. Riley's siblings are impatient to have her home and I'm impatient to be home with P and the minions.

PhotobucketHope everyone is enjoying the rest of their summer!

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