Friday morning came much too early. Jason didn't sleep any at all. He said he just couldn't get his brain to shut off. I had taken 2 Tylenol PM before midnight, which was my cut off for food and drink, and in hindsight, I should have suggested that he do the same. I woke up on my own just as Jason was coming to tell me it was 7. I laid there for another 1/2 hour, pretending it was later in the day, dreaming of the Mt. Dew I knew I couldn't have.
We gathered up the last little bit of things we needed and headed out. We left home about 15 minutes before we actually needed to be there. Living around the block from the hospital DOES have it's advantages. I had Jason leave everything but our point and shoot camera in the van. I knew that we'd start off in Triage, go to the O.R. and then Recovery, and not actually have a room of our "own" until some time that afternoon. I figured there was no need to cart all that stuff around when we wouldn't be using any of it anyway.
Jason and I arrived on time. We were shown back to triage, where I notice they remembered that I need a "fat girl" gown. We were assigned two nurses, one for me and one for the babies, that would follow us all the through until we were upstairs in our own room. This is something that I really appreciated. Knowing that the same women would be there all the way through helped calm me because it gave all the chaos a sense of continuity. The nurse, who I can't remember the name of, told me she figured that with twins, I'd need the bigger gown.
I got to use the last bit of fluid in my body and pee in a cup and change in to the gown. Jason became "The Keeper of my Clothes". Honestly, until the babies came and he followed them back to recovery, that's all he had to do. I got an IV, signed a bunch of papers, and was hooked up to the monitors. I was having some contractions, but I couldn't really feel any of them, and there was no pattern to them at all. It was just more of the "irritable uterus" that I'd been dealing with since Jason's birthday. I forgot that I'd be getting an IV and that is how I'd be kept from getting dehydrated, so it turned out I wouldn't be feeding the babies sludge after all!
We found out at about 9 that we were being "bumped" for an emergency section. I'm not sure why the mom needed the emergency, however we were there for something scheduled and honestly, I was ok with waiting. I was still pretty nervous about the whole thing. I have had surgery before, but it was on my ankle and I was completely knocked out for it. I sent out texts to friends and family letting them know about the delay, Jason napped in the horridly uncomfortable folding chair next to me. I asked him to do one last belly pic when I was released from "bondage" and allowed to use the bathroom.
Shortly before 10 I was told to drink the nasty antacid stuff, so I knew that the time was coming quickly. Jason didn't want to see any of the gore or prep or anything like that, so he was told that he'd be waiting outside the door until someone came and got him.
Jason was given wonderfully stylish and oh so sturdy paper scrubs to wear. He looked rather funny actually. I think he was worried about splitting his pants. At least, that's what he told me what he was worried about to try to cover up his actual worries.
I was walked the very short distance over to the O.R. My first thought was that it was bright, and I said as much. My 2nd thought was that I would NEVER fit on such a tiny table, this one I kept to myself!
There were lots of people in the room, going about their duties like little Worker Ants. Two warming beds and two NICU nurses per bed. Apparently for every set of multiples the NICU sends over nurses to check over the babies to be doubly sure that they are A-OK. I interacted with the anesthesiologist, his staff, and the nurses (yes, I totally looked up how to spell that word) for the most part.
From the moment I walked in the room things seemed to happen pretty quickly. I climbed up on the table, they had to give me a stool because it was so high, and the "Follow Me Through" nurse was my support as they put the spinal in. It went in the same way all of the epidurals of my past went in, so it was a cakewalk comparativly, at least I wasn't suffering through horrendous contractions while trying to sit so very still. Very quickly I was laid down. Then the waiting started to see if it would work.
While waiting all the little Worker Ants were busy doing things. Counting clamps and other scary looking devices, hanging drapes, moving my rather quickly numbing lower body all over the place. I had thought there would be some shaving going on, but as far as I can tell, and I haven't actually looked mind you, but I've felt while cleaning myself up, there was no shaving. At one point I was being rubbed down with iodine, the young woman with whom I kept up conversation (yes I'm being lazy and not writing that long word out again) asked me how it felt. I told her it felt a little warm, which surprised me because I had always thought iodine was cold. She informed that it was cold and that meant the spinal was working. At another point I felt some poking, not even hard poking, just general poke the belly and make it jiggle poking, and she told me that I was in fact being pinched very hard. At that point, it was deemed the spinal was working successfully and Jason was escorted in and the surgery began.
Jason was sat down at the head of the bed with me. The spinal made me sleepy and really feeling calm and rested. It didn't feel anything like I expected that it would. With all the women I've spoken to, I had picked up that it would likely be uncomfortable. That the pushing and pulling of getting the babies out would actually hurt. That I might not be able to breathe. I did feel nauseous for a small amount of time, however that was fixed very quickly with some meds added to the mix. It felt nothing like that. I was talking with Jason and the Young Woman and was feeling comfortable. There was quite a bit of pulling and pushing and jiggling, and while at some times it felt a bit uncomfortable, there was no pain.
When Jack was born, I forgot all about what the Worker Ants were doing to me. Jack David was born at 10:57 that morning. He weighed 7 pounds and 2 ounces and was 20 inches long. He was none too pleased about it either!
Abbey Michelle joined us 3 minutes later at exactly 11:00. She weighed 6 pounds and 8 ounces and was 19 and 3/4 inches long.
Jason and the Worker Ants brought the babies over for my inspection multiple times, though I wasn't really able to hold either of them at that point. The Head Honchos were busy tidying up my middle region so I was stuck there on the bed. Jason was given the go ahead to get up and take photos of the babies, and I'm certain that he made sure to not look at what was going on with my belly.
Jack was given a green little hat and Abbey was given a yellow one. All of the newborn hats used at the hospital are hand made by volunteers.
He was told to sit and hold both babies at one point, so a pic could be taken.
Shorlty after that pic, Jason went with the babies to the recovery area. I was left with the Worker Ants and Head Honchos. There was quite a bit more pushing and pulling while they pieced me back together. I lay there talking with the Young Woman about how men were babies when they were sick. One of the Head Honchos, named Bill, spoke up about how men were not babies, they just felt miserable. Young Woman and I pointed out how moms are expected to keep going while we are literally falling apart from our sickness while our husbands get much more than the sniffles and they are "dying" from everything. I told Bill that when he could carry over 13 pounds of baby to 38 weeks and 2 days and the volunteer to have his belly cut open so those 2 babies could be born that it would be ok to "die" while being sick, and until then, I just had no sympathy for a man who could handle it. The Young Woman thought this was very funny and I'm rather certain that Dr. Rod (the Head Head Honcho) snickered.
I was sewn up and stapled up and then rolled over to recovery. I was shivering horribly at this point. A side effect of the spinal is feeling tremendously cold, and that had hit me. To remedy this, a blanket made like a sheet of huge packaging bubbles was put on top of me with a compressor blowing hot air in to it was laid on top of me. This worked to settle the shivering. While I had been discussing the merits of sick mothers vs. sick fathers, Jason was in recovery with the babies, who were being cleaned up. Jason took advantage of this, and took a few more photos of each.
Once both babies had been cleaned up, and I had stopped shivering like I was caught in a snow storm while being naked, I was handed my babies. Abbey was put skin to skin with me for a bit because she was upset and her breathing was a bit fast. Her nice yellow hat also got wet, and until it dried, she used a striped one.
I will admit that I am absolutely smitten with both babies. I've never allowed myself to feel this way when my other kids were born. I'm not sure why, and honestly, that's up to my therapist to figure out. Both babies are breast feeding very well, and I'm doing well with it too. I'm not having my usual "Oh Gods I'm a Cow" feelings. It has only been a few short days, so we'll see if it continues. I'm hoping that with the help of Deb the Therapist I'll be able to continue with doing it, and with feeling this good about doing it. Jason is absolutely enamored with both babies.
The older kids come home tomorrow, with the exception of Katy Beth. We'll see how they react to the new additions. I'm especially wondering how Izzy will handle it. I know there will be some adjustments on the parts of Jack and Abbey as well. Since the moments of their birth, they have had Jason and I waiting on them hand and foot and not being distracted by the "outside world", especially other children. Also, my kids are loud. It's that simple. So that noise will take some getting used to for these two.
Physically, I am doing well. My BP is still on the high side, so I had to go home with meds for that. My pain level is tolerable. Honestly, I'm feeling better now than I normally would after being induced and delivering just one baby. I'm not sure why the section is more "tolerable" to me, but it is. I don't need to worry about a VBAC or anything like that however. These babies are the final babies from me. I am never going to be pregnant again, and honestly, I'm doing a little jig over that fact. Jason has his vasectomy scheduled for October 2 and we have other birth control already sitting in the drawer next to the bed. I am very happy that we have such wonderful babies to be our "Grand Finale".