A Baby Story, Part 8: While I Was Sleeping

The next thing I remember following the anesthesia (that actually did its job and completely knocked me out for my c-section) was hearing several voices calling my name and asking me if I could hear them. Obviously, I could, but what was more important was that I knew I needed to let them know how much everything hurt. Whether or not that was actually important is beside the point; in my head, it was of primary significance that they know my head and abdomen were splitting open (one figuratively and one literally). The first things I remember crossing my mind were:

1. My stomach hurts. so. badly.
2. My head aches. so. badly.
3. I bet they won't let me hold my daughter (assuming she is a daughter and didn't come out as a boy...I need to find out!) if I can't get my eyes open.
4. Where is Brad?

The days following Claire's birth were full of my questioning Brad and my parents about what happened during the hour + that I was unconscious. I found out that my doctor had gone out of the OR while I was being prepped to break the news to Brad that, because they were using general anesthesia, he wouldn't be able to come in after all. That made me so sad. I'm glad he had my parents to wait with, but I was very sad when thinking about him all decked out in his scrubs, waiting to come in to witness the birth of his daughter, and finding out that he had to wait outside. I think I cried about it (but let's be real: I've been crying about all kinds of things while post-partum. They tell you that will happen, but gee whiz. How frustrating.). 

I found out that Laura (she was seriously the greatest) took pictures of Brad while he was seeing Claire for the first time so that it would be documented.

My dad (who is a pediatrician, for those of you don't know him) was able to do a "ceremonial" baby going-over, like he does with his patients in the hospital. I got so tickled at Brad and his commentary on watching that process; he said that, if he hadn't known that Dad was a doctor who knew what he was doing, he (Brad) would have had to say something about the "manhandling" of his daughter. Amiee and I have always felt sorry for the babies as they get prodded and poked. I know Daddy is as gentle as he can be, but he is checking to make sure everything works correctly; I guess that's not innately a gentle process. Someone snapped a few pictures of Daddy checking Claire out, which I'm really grateful for.

A reenactment of checking out Claire Bear.

Mom stayed with me throughout all of this, waiting for me to come around from the medicine. Mom had had a c-section with me, so she was aware of a lot of the repercussions I would soon be dealing with. Apparently, I talked quite a bit about being in pain and asked about where Brad was. Seriously, so much aggravation could have been avoided if they'd just let him stay with me, right?

The next thing I really remember is craving the ice chips that someone started spooning into my mouth. I'd been so thirsty and hungry all day, I couldn't get enough of those ice chips. I also finally got to see my baby and hold her for a second, but I'm sad to say that I have no memory of it. Someone got a picture, although it wasn't any of my family; I had made it very clear that NO pictures were to be taken of me without my permission, and absolutely nothing was to be posted to social media without my approval (approval given while I was in full possession of my faculties). I've seen too many unflattering pictures of folks who had just had babies to trust myself not to look wretched. So, Mom and the guys followed the rules, but a nurse apparently thought that it was a shame not to snap a quick picture. 

Brad Face Timed with his family so that they could see our little Claire Bear. I missed that part, too. I think I was awake, but I wasn't very aware. Thankfully, Brad snapped a few pictures of their reactions.

I also remember having the thought that Claire was so pretty and did NOT look like the newborns who resemble gum that has been chewed up (i.e. pink and wrinkly). I realize it's a little weird that I had that thought... It seemed surreal that she was actually born and outside of me. I truly wish I could remember more, but I genuinely cannot even remember when I saw her face for the first time, other than thinking she was pretty. It's rather sad for me, actually. I had these images in my head of being fully cognizant when my baby was born, getting to hold her as soon as they released her, and getting that family photo of the three of us together. That's just not how it played out at all. 

The good news is that on top of being a pretty baby (which I realize is not THE most important thing, despite the frequency at which I mention it), she's the sweetest baby I've ever met. One of our friends described her as "peaceful," and I think that's such an apt description of her. I just love her to pieces.

Look how pretty she is.

 I love the little bow hat that the nursery made for her.

Other than those snippets, I don't remember much of the events that took place after Claire's birth. Oh, I got a popsicle. That was exciting. Honestly, the primary focus of my attentions (other than seeing Claire and finding Brad) was the headache that still raged. I had no idea that the worst part of my recovery would actually be that headache and not the fact that I'd just had surgery. The next few days ended up being more traumatic for me than the events leading up to Claire's birth...crazy as that sounds. :)

An "approved" shot of me...the kind where you can't see how tired and worn out I am.

So, the baby arrived, and there was much rejoicing (mostly done by those who were awake). The next several days were full of fun Claire moments...and a lot of interaction with anesthesiologists.