Iris: Stories of Surgery, St. Charles and my new baby girl.
It was Tuesday afternoon when things started in motion. My doctor decided we needed a third ultrasound because the baby still hadn't dropped, I still hadn't dilated and I was measuring two weeks larger than I should have. He realized she was probably a little or a lot bigger than we expected.
At the hospital, the ultrasound technician told us he thought she was over nine pounds according to her measurements in ultrasound. My doctor said if she were bigger than nine pounds, we would need to schedule a c-section. It was late Tuesday afternoon when Dr. Murphy called me and said Wednesday morning was the big day.
We spent all night Tuesday getting ready. Cleaning the house, adding the final items to my, her and Jed's hospital bags. Neither of us expected to get a wink of sleep and with a 5:30 am arrival time at the hospital, we new it would be a long night. I went to bed around 11:00 and Jed and I spent hours laying in the dark talking and trying to calm my nerves. I was emotional, apprehensive and afraid of the unknown. I sat and wrote out a long letter to Jed and Iris just IN CASE anything were to go wrong. I finally drifted off to sleep around 2:00 only to wake up at 4:00 to get ready for the trip.
It was 5:30 am on Wednesday morning. Jed and I drove completely silent through the dark morning. He held my hand and neither of us said a word until we got to the hospital. Somewhere in the dark I found calm. My nerves settled and I was just. Calm. They asked us a couple questions (thanks to pre-registration, I avoided TONS of paperwork) and took us directly to my room. The family birthing center at St. Charles is an amazing place. All momma's get their own room. This is the room you labor, deliver and recover in. I was having surgery which was (obviously) not in the same room, but it was just across the hall. The nurse had me strip and put a gown on as soon as we got in the room. She hooked me up to a fetal heart monitor and a blood pressure cuff and got my IV put in. The IV was not something I had worried about or feared. More than anything else, I was most afraid of the spinal anesthesia. The IV was something I SHOULD have worried more about. It hurt. It was disgusting and I totally thought I was going to pass out. This is when the shaking started. My legs started shaking a mile a minute and though I didn't feel stressed out, I couldn't get them to stop.
The nurse went over a MILLION things with us. Answered questions. Asked questions. Told me everything that was coming up and all I would go through. Then after about an hour and a half of getting prepared, she left Jed and I alone to wait for the anesthesiologist. My legs shook while I waited for him. I was so afraid of the spinal, especially after learning that Jed couldn't be with me when I got it. The anesthesiologist finally arrived after what seemed like a lifetime of waiting. Only when he showed up, most of my fear disappeared. He explained everything to me in such calm and extensive detail that I felt so much better. He was so kind and caring that I actually got to a point where I was just READY. They wrapped a blanket around me (as my entire ass was hanging out the back of my gown) and walked me to the O.R after a quick kiss for luck from Jed.
I walked into the giant white operating room. It was cold, busy and a little intimidating. There were so many people in the room. Nurses and doctors busy getting everything ready. The anesthesiologist lead the way. The white table was thin and tall. My belly was HUGE and I couldn't climb on it without a stool. I sat Indian style and waited for the needle to hit my back. Two nurses (who I will never forget) stood on either side of the table holding my hands and talking to me about baby furniture and other random topics I can't recall now. I felt the sting of the local anesthetic and then nothing until the snap. The spinal was in. I felt the pop and then a bit of movement. I gasped a bit, the nurses kept talking. I kept talking. It didn't hurt, just felt strange. The sensation is almost impossible to explain. It takes your breath away because it's startling. The only way I can describe it is "spiny." You KNOW what they are doing is in your spine. You can FEEL that what they are doing is effecting nerves and important things that shouldn't be struck with needles. And 20 or so minutes of the weirdness slip by and suddenly there are three people on either side of you supporting your lifeless body and laying you back on the tall slim table. My legs felt warm and then they didn't. They no longer existed. Nothing below my arms was there anymore. Only in sensation. When the nurse was sterilizing my stomach, I felt almost nothing. I had to ask if she was touching me.
They draped the large blue curtain in front of my face and finally let Jed in. He stood beside my head and I continued to shake (my arms anyway. I have no idea what was going on behind that curtain.) The anesthesiologist comforted and encouraged me the entire time.
I waited and waited for someone to tell me "we're making the incision now," but it never came. I felt pressure and tugging that felt like some kneading my stomach like dough.
It was a matter of minutes before they said "Here's her head. Lots of hair." They asked Jed if he wanted to look and I told him he should. He peaked over and saw them pull her out. Within another minute, there she was. "She's definitely a girl!" Someone said. I heard the suck of the aspirator, then a little cough and a couple "eh eh" sounds and then, there it was "WAAH. WHAA." My baby girl was crying. And I was crying. And Jed was crying. They asked if Jed wanted to go with them as they cleaned her up. He didn't want to leave me, I told him he should go. It was only the other side of the room. The anesthesiologist continued talking to me. I was shaking so hard I thought my teeth would snap they were gritted to tightly.
After an eternity of waiting for them to sew me back together, the nurse brought my baby over to me. She was literally a half inch away from my face and all I could see was that she had my nose. She was covered in vernix (the white cheesy stuff that comes out on newborns) and had a TON of dark hair.
I kissed her and talked to her and Jed took a couple pictures. Then they moved me from the operating table to my hospital bed and wheeled me back to my room. Everyone was waiting in my room and I had given specific instruction to the nurses NOT to let anyone see her until I did first. They asked everyone to leave my room before they brought my baby in. Then they took my gown down and placed her in just a diaper on my chest, covered us in blankets and let us lay skin to skin for about an hour. It was amazing. She snuggled in so close and that moment when I felt her kicking me from the OUTSIDE for the first time was so bittersweet. On one hand, I was thrilled to have her in the world, but in the other I wasn't pregnant anymore and she would never be back in my belly again. It was hard.
Then the visitors came. I was flat on my back and my sister cried when she saw me. Everyone looked at Iris and talked about how beautiful she was. They stayed for awhile, then left for awhile. Then came back for awhile. Then left for the night. I couldn't move my legs but they kept shaking and shaking. They put big white leg cuffs on me that filled up with air and squeezed my legs to keep me from clotting. I made phone calls and saw nurses and don't remember too much else from that first day. I couldn't hold Iris, but Jed brought her to me so I could admire her. He took care of her all night and really proved what an amazing man he is.
Thursday was just the same. A sea of nurses and visitors came and went and I stayed in bed until the evening when they told me I had to sit up. I was scared. It was nerve wracking. I was certain my guts would fall out. Of course, they didn't. Early that morning (around 4AM) the nurses came back and said I would have to try and do the unthinkable. WALK. After being cut in half, they wanted me to WALK and use the bathroom. They wanted to take my catheter out and make me pee all on my own. The nerve. =) One doesn't realize how easy life is when you never have to take time to pee. When the time came I was terrified. My legs shook again and when I finally got out of bed, I stood bowlegged, trembling with a nurse on either side of me. I took a few steps in place to prove to my legs I could still move them. Each limb felt as though it weighed a thousand pounds. I finally got to the bathroom where nurses handled me as though I were an 89 year old man with an incontinence problem. Yes, it's true. There is no longer shame, embarrassment or secrets after surgery. Nurses see and touch everything and sometimes you don't even get their names.
As the days went by, nurses came and went filling my head with MASS amounts of information of everything from feeding, sleeping, room temperature and care in all areas of baby life. They fed me narcotics and stool softeners and made sure I had ice water and anything else we needed without complaining. St. Charles has amazing room service that's all charged to insurance and you can order waffles and a milkshake at midnight and they'll bring it right to your bed. You have everything you need, they take amazing care of you and the world seems so very easy.
I started to feel better Thursday night (somewhere between the Percocet and Ibuprofen) and managed to get a short, shaky shower in. I put on clean comfortable clothes and brushed my teeth. It was heaven. After an amazing and too short stay in the hospital, Saturday was here and it was time to go home. They discharged me yesterday afternoon and I cried the whole way from my room to the car with my favorite nurse, Toni, by my side. I was scared to leave. Scared to be away from my nurses, endless meds, never ending ice water, 3AM crackers and doctors anywhere and anytime I needed one. I knew I was safe and my baby was safe. Everything was as it should be. They checked her vitals and mine every 4 hours and I knew if she even coughed, I could ask and someone would calm my nerves.
At home, we're on our own and all we can do is care for her the best we can. We have a kid now and it's amazing but terrifying and I am really having to force myself to stay calm and learn how to do this.
She kept us all night last night screaming her head off. We think she had gas. She acted starving every ten minutes and would not sleep. I'm still recovering so Jed has been doing most of the work.
We have been home one day and it's already completely different than it was in the hospital. She has a temper on her that she kept a secret in the hospital where all she did was eat and sleep.
But she is beautiful and amazing and everything I hoped she would be. It's just going to take me a little time to learn how to be a mom and to realize no one is going to take her home. No one is going to relieve me. No one is going to make her stop. Just me. Just us. She's our girl and we are responsible for loving and caring for her for the rest of her life. What a scary thought. But I can do it. For Iris Victoria, I could do anything.
At the hospital, the ultrasound technician told us he thought she was over nine pounds according to her measurements in ultrasound. My doctor said if she were bigger than nine pounds, we would need to schedule a c-section. It was late Tuesday afternoon when Dr. Murphy called me and said Wednesday morning was the big day.
We spent all night Tuesday getting ready. Cleaning the house, adding the final items to my, her and Jed's hospital bags. Neither of us expected to get a wink of sleep and with a 5:30 am arrival time at the hospital, we new it would be a long night. I went to bed around 11:00 and Jed and I spent hours laying in the dark talking and trying to calm my nerves. I was emotional, apprehensive and afraid of the unknown. I sat and wrote out a long letter to Jed and Iris just IN CASE anything were to go wrong. I finally drifted off to sleep around 2:00 only to wake up at 4:00 to get ready for the trip.
It was 5:30 am on Wednesday morning. Jed and I drove completely silent through the dark morning. He held my hand and neither of us said a word until we got to the hospital. Somewhere in the dark I found calm. My nerves settled and I was just. Calm. They asked us a couple questions (thanks to pre-registration, I avoided TONS of paperwork) and took us directly to my room. The family birthing center at St. Charles is an amazing place. All momma's get their own room. This is the room you labor, deliver and recover in. I was having surgery which was (obviously) not in the same room, but it was just across the hall. The nurse had me strip and put a gown on as soon as we got in the room. She hooked me up to a fetal heart monitor and a blood pressure cuff and got my IV put in. The IV was not something I had worried about or feared. More than anything else, I was most afraid of the spinal anesthesia. The IV was something I SHOULD have worried more about. It hurt. It was disgusting and I totally thought I was going to pass out. This is when the shaking started. My legs started shaking a mile a minute and though I didn't feel stressed out, I couldn't get them to stop.
The nurse went over a MILLION things with us. Answered questions. Asked questions. Told me everything that was coming up and all I would go through. Then after about an hour and a half of getting prepared, she left Jed and I alone to wait for the anesthesiologist. My legs shook while I waited for him. I was so afraid of the spinal, especially after learning that Jed couldn't be with me when I got it. The anesthesiologist finally arrived after what seemed like a lifetime of waiting. Only when he showed up, most of my fear disappeared. He explained everything to me in such calm and extensive detail that I felt so much better. He was so kind and caring that I actually got to a point where I was just READY. They wrapped a blanket around me (as my entire ass was hanging out the back of my gown) and walked me to the O.R after a quick kiss for luck from Jed.
I walked into the giant white operating room. It was cold, busy and a little intimidating. There were so many people in the room. Nurses and doctors busy getting everything ready. The anesthesiologist lead the way. The white table was thin and tall. My belly was HUGE and I couldn't climb on it without a stool. I sat Indian style and waited for the needle to hit my back. Two nurses (who I will never forget) stood on either side of the table holding my hands and talking to me about baby furniture and other random topics I can't recall now. I felt the sting of the local anesthetic and then nothing until the snap. The spinal was in. I felt the pop and then a bit of movement. I gasped a bit, the nurses kept talking. I kept talking. It didn't hurt, just felt strange. The sensation is almost impossible to explain. It takes your breath away because it's startling. The only way I can describe it is "spiny." You KNOW what they are doing is in your spine. You can FEEL that what they are doing is effecting nerves and important things that shouldn't be struck with needles. And 20 or so minutes of the weirdness slip by and suddenly there are three people on either side of you supporting your lifeless body and laying you back on the tall slim table. My legs felt warm and then they didn't. They no longer existed. Nothing below my arms was there anymore. Only in sensation. When the nurse was sterilizing my stomach, I felt almost nothing. I had to ask if she was touching me.
They draped the large blue curtain in front of my face and finally let Jed in. He stood beside my head and I continued to shake (my arms anyway. I have no idea what was going on behind that curtain.) The anesthesiologist comforted and encouraged me the entire time.
I waited and waited for someone to tell me "we're making the incision now," but it never came. I felt pressure and tugging that felt like some kneading my stomach like dough.
It was a matter of minutes before they said "Here's her head. Lots of hair." They asked Jed if he wanted to look and I told him he should. He peaked over and saw them pull her out. Within another minute, there she was. "She's definitely a girl!" Someone said. I heard the suck of the aspirator, then a little cough and a couple "eh eh" sounds and then, there it was "WAAH. WHAA." My baby girl was crying. And I was crying. And Jed was crying. They asked if Jed wanted to go with them as they cleaned her up. He didn't want to leave me, I told him he should go. It was only the other side of the room. The anesthesiologist continued talking to me. I was shaking so hard I thought my teeth would snap they were gritted to tightly.
After an eternity of waiting for them to sew me back together, the nurse brought my baby over to me. She was literally a half inch away from my face and all I could see was that she had my nose. She was covered in vernix (the white cheesy stuff that comes out on newborns) and had a TON of dark hair.
I kissed her and talked to her and Jed took a couple pictures. Then they moved me from the operating table to my hospital bed and wheeled me back to my room. Everyone was waiting in my room and I had given specific instruction to the nurses NOT to let anyone see her until I did first. They asked everyone to leave my room before they brought my baby in. Then they took my gown down and placed her in just a diaper on my chest, covered us in blankets and let us lay skin to skin for about an hour. It was amazing. She snuggled in so close and that moment when I felt her kicking me from the OUTSIDE for the first time was so bittersweet. On one hand, I was thrilled to have her in the world, but in the other I wasn't pregnant anymore and she would never be back in my belly again. It was hard.
Then the visitors came. I was flat on my back and my sister cried when she saw me. Everyone looked at Iris and talked about how beautiful she was. They stayed for awhile, then left for awhile. Then came back for awhile. Then left for the night. I couldn't move my legs but they kept shaking and shaking. They put big white leg cuffs on me that filled up with air and squeezed my legs to keep me from clotting. I made phone calls and saw nurses and don't remember too much else from that first day. I couldn't hold Iris, but Jed brought her to me so I could admire her. He took care of her all night and really proved what an amazing man he is.
Thursday was just the same. A sea of nurses and visitors came and went and I stayed in bed until the evening when they told me I had to sit up. I was scared. It was nerve wracking. I was certain my guts would fall out. Of course, they didn't. Early that morning (around 4AM) the nurses came back and said I would have to try and do the unthinkable. WALK. After being cut in half, they wanted me to WALK and use the bathroom. They wanted to take my catheter out and make me pee all on my own. The nerve. =) One doesn't realize how easy life is when you never have to take time to pee. When the time came I was terrified. My legs shook again and when I finally got out of bed, I stood bowlegged, trembling with a nurse on either side of me. I took a few steps in place to prove to my legs I could still move them. Each limb felt as though it weighed a thousand pounds. I finally got to the bathroom where nurses handled me as though I were an 89 year old man with an incontinence problem. Yes, it's true. There is no longer shame, embarrassment or secrets after surgery. Nurses see and touch everything and sometimes you don't even get their names.
As the days went by, nurses came and went filling my head with MASS amounts of information of everything from feeding, sleeping, room temperature and care in all areas of baby life. They fed me narcotics and stool softeners and made sure I had ice water and anything else we needed without complaining. St. Charles has amazing room service that's all charged to insurance and you can order waffles and a milkshake at midnight and they'll bring it right to your bed. You have everything you need, they take amazing care of you and the world seems so very easy.
I started to feel better Thursday night (somewhere between the Percocet and Ibuprofen) and managed to get a short, shaky shower in. I put on clean comfortable clothes and brushed my teeth. It was heaven. After an amazing and too short stay in the hospital, Saturday was here and it was time to go home. They discharged me yesterday afternoon and I cried the whole way from my room to the car with my favorite nurse, Toni, by my side. I was scared to leave. Scared to be away from my nurses, endless meds, never ending ice water, 3AM crackers and doctors anywhere and anytime I needed one. I knew I was safe and my baby was safe. Everything was as it should be. They checked her vitals and mine every 4 hours and I knew if she even coughed, I could ask and someone would calm my nerves.
At home, we're on our own and all we can do is care for her the best we can. We have a kid now and it's amazing but terrifying and I am really having to force myself to stay calm and learn how to do this.
She kept us all night last night screaming her head off. We think she had gas. She acted starving every ten minutes and would not sleep. I'm still recovering so Jed has been doing most of the work.
We have been home one day and it's already completely different than it was in the hospital. She has a temper on her that she kept a secret in the hospital where all she did was eat and sleep.
But she is beautiful and amazing and everything I hoped she would be. It's just going to take me a little time to learn how to be a mom and to realize no one is going to take her home. No one is going to relieve me. No one is going to make her stop. Just me. Just us. She's our girl and we are responsible for loving and caring for her for the rest of her life. What a scary thought. But I can do it. For Iris Victoria, I could do anything.