As expected I didn't sleep very well. Plus, I kept having dreams about accidentally eating or drinking something and then having to call the whole surgery off. What a nightmare that would be!! We woke up at 4:20 and were out the door by 4:45. I was a bundle of nerves driving down the hill and had to have one last cry/freak out session. My anxieties: I don't want to hemorrhage. I don't want to have a horrible recovery. I want everything to go well.
By 5:15 a.m. I was in my gown, hooked up to the monitor and listening to my baby's movements and experiencing some pretty intense and regular contractions, as well as the worst case of acid reflux I've had to endure thus far. For the next hour and a half we prepped for surgery. Ultimately, we had time to spare so Jeremy and I took my lovely IV tower for a walk through the halls and ran into my Mom as she got off the elevator. The surprise of seeing her and her concerned/confused expression (what was I doing wandering the halls) and receiving a big Mom hug complete with "aw, baby!" reassurances sent me into a brief cry frenzy. After pulling myself together Jeremy and I headed back to triage.
As it got closer to 7 a.m. a parade of people began to come in including the nurse who would be with us in surgery and for the two hours in recovery, our anesthesiologist, an intern, Dr. Hank, and some other nurses. At this point we were running about a half an hour late as we waited for some back-up blood supply...just in case I hemorrhaged. Once that arrived, my team pow-wowed in the corner with some last minute instructions from Dr. Hank. I choked down some foul liquid that was supposed to neutralize my stomach acids. It was disgusting and led to a very public vomiting session as I leaned over the garbage can in the hallway. Once I got finished retching and pulled myself together I kissed Jeremy goodbye and walked myself into OR.
Final preparations were a breeze. My anesthesiologist was awesome. He played music and made sure I was comfortable. Pretty much throughout my time in there he acted as my eyes and ears giving me a play by play of what was going on. He actually really seemed interested in what he was doing and what he was watching. When I was all set Jeremy came in, sat by my head, held my hand and away we went.
Everything was great. The only complication we ran into was actually getting this breech baby out. There was quite a struggle and some funny commentary. I heard Dr. Hank say, "Now, that's a big butt". Finally, when Dylan got free I heard his little cry. Jeremy stood up to get a picture and then I saw him. He was beautiful! So big and round with a perfect little circle of a face. I suddenly became aware of everyone in the room chattering about how big he was. Guesses were flying which made me realize that my cousin might be right--maybe I did just have a 10 pound baby like she predicted. Jeremy went with Dylan and a nurse to the other room to weigh him--unlike with Noah they did not have a scale in the room. I laid there smiling up at the light. Moments later I heard the nurse announce, "11 pounds, 1 ounce". I gasped. I can't even remember what everyone else said now because I was in such a state of shock. 11 pounds?!! Never in a million years did I imagine that I was going to have an 11 pound baby!
I quickly got put back together and moved to Recovery where I was reunited with Jeremy and Dylan. Although I was tired I was on such a rush of adrenaline. I felt great and was excited because I felt so good compared to how I felt with Noah. And best news of all I didn't hemorrhage! In fact, they said I bled less than average.
For the next two hours we stayed in Recovery. Unfortunately, Dylan's blood sugar was too low (it was 31 and needed to be at 50). I breast fed right away which did bring it up some, but not enough so Jeremy and Dylan went to the NICU for some formula. There was some mild threat about how he might have to stay there overnight for monitoring if we couldn't get it up with formula. But, thankfully after the supplement and another round of breastfeeding we got it up to 51. The nurses said as long as it stayed above 50 we could continue to breast feed only.
It was so great to be able to breast feed Dylan in recovery and have that time to visit with the Moms and Shannon. Our baby was healthy and my birth experience was everything I could hope for. Yay for happy endings.
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