We've hit the 2 week survival mark, MY survival mark. It's been a whirlwind, and I'm sorry for not updating sooner.
I was due Sunday the 31st, and that day came and went. That Thursday we went in for a checkup. The amount of tests ran on me during this pregnancy is epic, God bless insurance. Anyways, something came back questionable. One doctor said one thing, another said another. The recommendation for C-section came in, and Dr. McDonald said we could do it in a couple hours. WHAT? No, no. I need more than 3 hours to mentally prepare for this. Additionally, my mom was flying in at 5pm that night, and her missing it wasn't an option. So Friday morning at 5 we were due at the hospital. A frantic phone call to my mom, a Red Lobster dinner (tacky indulgences, I know), and a sleepless night eventually got us to Friday.
I was scared out of my wits. We got there at 530, after a frantic search for the correct entrance. (We only planned for the ER). And a few hours of waiting till 9am, blast off hour. Surrounded by friends and family in the hospital room pre-surgery we were blissfully scared out of our minds. I felt like a snob introducing "our photographer" and friend Bryan, to the surgeon. A few pre-baby pictures were taken. And we found out they were going to allow Matt and my mom into the surgery room.
The operating room was like a horror movie... bright, sterile, cold. Unlike other surgeries when you get wheeled in already knocked out, this I got to experience from start to end. I sat hunched on the operating table while they dug around my spinal column to insert the spinal epidural cathetar...not fun. Soon my legs turn to logs, they inserted the vag cathetar after (upon request) in a fashion that was anything but ladylike (think frog legs).
The first few minutes of surgery were horendous: an all over awful feeling, throwing up into a sucking tube, and my arms tethered down in a Jesus fashion. A moment I will never forget is looking through the door, probably my most pitiful state in life, getting cut open (I was blocked by a curtain), and seeing Matt's supportive but scared face wanting to do something... anything, but not being able to do a thing. They said they were cutting and brought Matt and my mom in for delivery. Matt videotaped it, not because he wanted to, but because I said it happens once and can always be deleted. I felt a huge release of pressure and they said he was out. I heard his cry. The emotion of that moment cannot be explained. It was every happiness, fear, pain and anxiousness imaginable. I waited for a few sobbing minutes before I saw Jameson. Heard them weighing him, Matt and mom telling me he was perfect, and of course the throaty cry over and over. I just kept telling myself that he's real and actually here. The first thing I saw in my son was Matt's nose. I haven't watched the video yet, but soon. They let Matt carry him to the nursery, cue photographer Bryan. I'm so grateful for these pictures.
That night was a mess. I had excruciating pain, apparently from the gas that enters the body from surgery, for hours on end. I thought it was a heart attack, that I might die. Doctors and doctors came in and out, trying everything. Morphine, X-rays, CT scans, everything. And nothing was found except this unexplained pain. I'm grateful my mom was there, my medical advocate. She fought and fought for something to be found, to be done. I remember screaming in pain, looking over at Matt's helpless face. It was an awful night, but one that eventually ended. The pain continued in lesser form for the following days. I was in the hospital for 4 days post-op, and relished the room service, pain meds, and nursery. Matt is a champ with the diaper changes, and to my delight got peed on during the first one :) Breast feeding was initially a HUGE struggle, physically and emotionally, but J and I are working it out. It's still not fun, but there is something gratifying about being THE person that can calm and satisfy this child.
Apparently Jameson screamed the entire first night in the nursery, coming into the world with a vengance, which is not suprising. The first night home was a rough one. Matt tried to let me sleep and took the first shift. A couple hours of crying with Matt led me to find both of them on blankets on the nursery floor: Matt exaughsted and Jameson crying. I took over for the next few hours, painfully tiptoeing through breast feeding and minding a huge abdominal incision. What a night. The physical, emotional and mental implications of it all were overwhelming.
My mom was here last week, and what a blessing. They say you want your mom, and what a truth. She was a guide and a support. Additionally, an amazing babysitter that gave me bouts of sanity away from the baby and some nice lunches out with Matt. Matt's mom is here now for a few days, and I'm anxious for when the training wheels come off next week when she leaves. I can't believe we've survived, and I'm not sure I could do it over. But life is getting worked out, and God has been good.
Can't wait for you all to meet our little guy. He's generally mellow when gas isn't involved. Has his days and nights mixed up...not fun. Pees and poos like a champ. Is incredibly cute while sleeping. Makes ridiculous faces. And is just generally amazing. Life is good.
Here's some of my favorites...all of them can be seen at photos.youvebeencaptured.com
