I realized the fatal flaw in the waitress’s placement of the girls’ booster chairs right next to each other when I witnessed Ruth’s hand shoot out to wave around in her sister’s face. Rose immediately emitted an ear splitting shriek that only children with older siblings know how to do. The eyes of the entire restaurant were on our table as I panicked and attempted to resolve the problem before the girls drew any more attention to us. Ruth, pleased that her hand waving had produced such a satisfactory response, waved her hand in front of Rose’s face again as I dived toward them to separate them. Too late! Rosie’s second shriek rent the air. The lady at the table next to us turned toward me and exclaimed, “God Almighty!” Tears welled up in my eyes as I picked Rosie up and took her outside to walk around. I felt as if the eyes of the entire restaurant followed me as we left the room in shame.
I felt like someone had rudely awoken me from a nice nap and looked around, irritated. I looked at the anesthesiologist staring back at me and realized, with a jolt, where I was and what had happened. The OB cheerfully said I was all done and they wheeled me back to recovery. I was really looking forward to getting to hold my baby and nurse her for the first time.
The nurse started fussing with me when I arrived in the recovery room. And I recall feeling sleepy and annoyed. “Where is my baby?,” I asked her. She looked at me like a deer in head lights. “You’re bleeding,” she said blankly. “From my incision?” I asked her. “No,” she answered distractedly as she started bustling about. “Internally?,” I guessed. “No!,” she said emphatically, as if I was intentionally bothering her with dumb questions. She yelled for the OB. He came in and inspected me. He murmured something to the nurse about clots and put on some very long gloves. He then did something that felt like he was plunging his hand through my incision and then yanking around all my internal organs. I found myself screaming in pain again and scaring another batch of poor women being prepped for their C sections. The nurse ameliorated the situation by plunging a gigantic needle into my thigh to stop the blood bath. The OB then smiled at me, and declared that all was well. I sobbed at him and found it difficult to agree. The nurse looked uncertainly at him, and he told her to pull out all the stops on my pain medication. That, at least, gave me some relief.
C sections have gotten a real bad rap in this age of doulas and unmedicated births, but sometimes they are truly necessary. My first baby was stubbornly breach and had low amniotic fluid, so a C section it was. To me, the most important end goal is a healthy baby. For reasons that I may get into in another post, I ended up having C sections with my other two babies. Suffice it to say, after three C sections in three years, I’ve pretty much nailed down a workable routine for preparation and healing. Here are some of my tips. Should be worth a read even if you are not planning on having a C section because you never know what kind of exigencies may arise during the course of your labor. The best laid plans of mice and men . . .
I get a lot of questions from other mommies on Facebook in the form of direct messages. Although I have gleaned a substantial amount of knowledge through trial and error after having three babies in three years, I am by no means an expert. But I figured I can write down a few answers to common questions I receive. On to one of my most common: morning sickness remedies!
I was so sick with my first, I was throwing up practically every day for all nine months. By my second pregnancy, I got the vomiting reduced to half of the pregnancy. By my third. I only threw up once!