The actual cesarean was a nerve-wracking experience. There was a new anesthesiologist there, this time a man, who gave me a different type of drug through my epidural for the surgery. He was very charming. He explained the procedure and how I might react to certain things - for instance, that I would probably feel nauseated from the medicine that was given to me. I blew it off at first, thinking I was made of tougher stuff. But then when I was actually in the operating room, I began to feel it. Even though I had been given some anti-nausea drugs, I was going to need more. Fortunately, the second dose took care of it.
I had heard that some people start shaking when they are given the anesthesia for a c-section, but once again, I thought I wouldn't be one of those people. Oh how very wrong I was. I shook so violently that I thought I would shake myself right off the table if I hadn't been tied down to it. Dr. Franken assured me that I wasn't shaking from the waist down, and I couldn't tell anyway since I had no feeling from that point down, but my arms and my upper back were shivering, and even my teeth chattered.
This was the first time I actually got scared while I was in the hospital. I'd been through quite the ordeal in my little hospital room, but being under the bright lights with not being able to control my body and feeling nauseated on top of everything made me scared.
Dr. Franken began the procedure. I couldn't feel the incision, but I did feel something that felt like I was being punched over and over again. A few groans escaped me and Dr. Franken halted the procedure. "No, no, I can't feel the cutting. I just feel like I'm getting punched a lot." The people in the operating room laughed, and I tried to keep my mouth closed. After all, it wasn't the worst pain I had been in today.
Finally I heard the doctor say, "Alright! It's a boy!" and then "It's okay, not all c-section babies cry at first." I was so focused on not shaking that it didn't occur to me to freak out that you weren't crying. But then I heard you whine a few times, and I felt relieved. You were probably just surprised to be forcefully evicted from your comfy home. Mark went over to take pictures of you while I was being stitched up. Soon you were brought over to me, but I had lost the feeling in my arms so I couldn't reach out and touch you. I just stared. Was he really mine? No way....
And so at 8:21 on Tuesday night, you arrived into the world. At 6 pounds 7 ounces, and 19 inches long, you were absolutely, positively perfect.
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