Not What I Was Expecting: Pippin's Birth Story

Greetings Humble Readers...

Life is slowly beginning to resemble something akin to normal around the hobbit hole.  At least as close to normal as things can get these days. 

Not that I'm complaining one little bit!

My Beloved has been a superstar over the last several days (not that now is any different than any other time).  He changes diapers, plays with Ginny, helps me with feedings & pumping & formula, cleaning, cooking, and everything else that I can't do.  He even took the first late night shift at home with Pippin so that I could sleep.  I don't know what I'm going to do when he goes back to work. 

I'm so incredibly thankful that our time at home has been relatively peaceful and calm, considering that there is a new little hobbit around.  Our time in the hospital was anything but.  Let's just say that if we hadn't already decided that our family was done with two, there is NO WAY IN HELL I would go through that again. 

(Fair warning... this is a little bit rambly)

When I got to the L&D ward on Thursday, it was a zoo!  The place was jumping... and this was at 6:30 in the morning.  I got settled in my room, which sadly turned out to be a shared room.  Normally, the scheduled c-sections get the private rooms, but not this week. 

The lab came and took blood, and I had to get into my gown and everything.  I was scheduled for 11:05am, but they ended up coming to get me about an hour early. 

My mom walked down to the surgical waiting area with us, and then it was just my Beloved and I.  We sat, looking oh so stylish in our hospital garb.  First the surgical nurses came and talked to us.  Then the anesthesiologist came and talked to us.  Then Dr. W came and talked to us.  And finally someone came and took me into the OR. 

Before I knew it, I was up on the OR table, having needles jabbed into my spine repeatedly, as the anesthesiologist attempted to get me numb.  It took five jabs, after the local, before I felt the effects of the drugs.  My feet felt like bricks, and my legs were all tingly.  It took a little while after that for them to get me situated, and for them to bring my Beloved in. 

Just after my Beloved took his seat at my head, they started the procedure. 

And I could feel it. 

(Let that sink in a little.) 

Yup, I could feel them cutting into me.  I could feel it as they cauterized the opening (felt like an electrified metal comb sliding over my stomach repeatedly).  It burned, stung, and generally took everything I had to not scream.  I told the anesthesiologist through clenched teeth that I could feel it, and he said, 'Yes, you'll feel some pressure.'  Ha! 

That's when they (Dr. W, her assistant, nurses, etc) started telling me to not move, specifically my legs.  And that's when the anesthesiologist finally clued in that something wasn't right.  He stopped them for a minute, injected me with some sort of local freezing, and they continued.  But it was too late.  I could feel them poking, prodding, pulling, and cutting.  It felt like it was going on forever.

When they finally got our wee little man out, I was almost too freaked out to even realize it.  I remember Dr. W commenting on his hair, and calling him by name (she had asked for our chosen names before the surgery), and saying that he was a lot littler than we all thought he would be.  My Beloved got up and went to the table where they had Pippin. 

Dr. W and her assistant got to work on the tubal ligation.  I tried to focus on the little bit of our wee guy that I could see, but I could still feel it.  My Beloved and Pippin were whisked from the room fairly quickly at that point, although I did get to give Pip a quick kiss on the forehead. 

I don't remember a whole lot from when they took me out of the OR, but I very clearly remember both Dr. W and the anesthesiologist telling the nurses in the recovery room that my spinal was 'very patchy' and that I was in a great deal of pain (no sh!t).  Every time the nurse pushed on my abdomen I was very vocal.  Less than five minutes in recovery and I could feel it when she touched my navel.  Not fun.

I was on a lot of pain meds for the first 12 hours.  I felt really stoned, and the word 'fundus' started to bring tears to my eyes (the nurses were pressing on my stomach every two hours).  I wasn't able to get out of bed until after 8:30pm, and that was only to take two steps to a wheelchair so that I could go to the NICU to see my boy. 

While I had been in recovery, the nurses had checked Pip's blood sugars and discovered that he was sitting at 1.1 (very scary low).  He had been taken to the NICU immediately, and they began giving him formula and iv dextrose.  They were also monitoring his vitals regularly (due to his irregular heartbeat). 

I was able to get as good a night sleep as I possibly could, while alternating being stoned and in pain, because my initial roommate had been discharged.  It wasn't until the next morning that the psycho-biotch-from-hell moved in. 

The first thing I heard from her was an expletive laden diatribe leveled at her boyfriend as to why his parents were already at the hospital when she specifically told them not to come.  The next 36+ hours were filled with her shrill voice bickering with her boyfriend, her family, his family, and the nurses.  She also had lovely personal hygiene issues (including sucking back snot as loudly as she could, and not washing her hands when she would come out of the bathroom).  Oh, and she made more than one comment to the atmosphere at large about how it would be so nice to be able to have nurses look after her baby so she could get some rest (as if having a child in the NICU, even for a short time, is at all conducive to rest). 

On Saturday morning, when the nurses wheeled Pippin into my room, I was so happy, I practically jumped out of bed to get to him, until my incision reminded me that I couldn't do that yet.  We had a good morning and afternoon, making our first attempts at breastfeeding (I had been pumping up to that point) and spending a lot of time just holding and looking at him.  That night, I had a bit of a meltdown... I couldn't handle my roommate's obnoxiousness and all I really wanted was quiet.  Pippin was fairly mellow, only getting really upset when we had a bad go round of bf-ing.  Saturday also brought the advent of jaundice, but that seemed minor in comparison to everything else. 

And as I told you previously, we were given the all clear to head home on Sunday morning. 

It's hard to believe it's all over.  I'm so incredibly thankful that he's here, he's healthy, and that we are both able to be at home.  Our little family is complete.