Since I had a scheduled C-Section, this story won't be as eventful as others, but I'll do my best to keep it interesting.
So, we made it to the 29th with no progress. Baby was not descending into my pelvis and was nice and happy where he was. I probably could have been pregnant for another month or so if it wasn't considered unhealthy - this kid had no desire to leave.
I slept the night before delivery. I still can't believe that I did that, considering that I was scared shitless.
Woke up Monday morning, put up my maternity leave away message for work, straightened up the house, got dressed and got ready to go.
This is the last known picture of pregnant Sully.
All along, I had been hoping that the day I delivered would be relatively quiet in the L&D ward, in order to stay calm and relaxed and get as much attention from the staff as possible. December 29th couldn't have been further from that ideal. Being the first Monday following a holiday week, it appeared that every scheduled c-section was set for that day (My OB had already done 5 before me and I think had another 7 to go after me).
All of the L&D rooms were full, so I was moved into recovery and set up for surgery there. Let me tell you, watching women being rolled into recovery post - procedure is not a good way to get "relaxed" for your own surgery. I nearly passed out when the nurse put in my IV (I do not do well with IV's ), but after that, things went relatively smooth.
I was wheeled into surgery about a half hour later than scheduled. The epidural was administered (which was actually easier than the IV - for me, anyway), and the "sheet" was raised. The Barron was brought in and sat at my right shoulder, and the anesthesiologist was at my left (He was awesome. Warned me I might throw up, which I did - all over myself, and then cleaned me up, since I was numb). He kept a running commentary of the process for us.
Then it began. There was a lot of "what a big baby!", "what a big Irish head", etc...and, of course a lot of tugging. It seemed that he was giving them a run for their money. 2 seconds later he was out. I never had to wait to hear my son's cry as he was crying on the way out. We were told it was a boy, and I changed his name (originally supposed to be Colin) on the spot.
The Barron got to hold him and I got to touch him as they were closing me up. Then, the anesthesiologist placed him on my chest and they wheeled me out to recovery. On the way, my OB grabbed my Mom (who is also her patient) and Dad and the Barron's folks and they got to see him quickly before we were put into recovery.
Of course, he was taken to the nursery, while I was left to recover from surgery. Those were the longest 4 hours of my life - I just wanted to see my boy again. Family and friends came in to see me and told me how cute he was - as they could see him through the nursery window. At about 7:30 PM, I was put in my room and he was brought to me to start our new life together.
It may not have been the delivery I had envisioned. There was never a contraction, we never had to race on the Expressway to get to the hospital on time, my water never broke, and I never pushed, but it was the perfect experience. My son is healthy and perfect (am I using "perfect" too much?) and I couldn't ask for anything more.
"How we're doing" will come in another post. Things are finally starting to settle down somewhat.