Wednesday, September 23, 2020

A Baby Story: Hallie, part 3

Once we proved that we were not actively sick, they sent us up to L & D. We got up to L & D around the shift change, so we saw a myriad of nurses/providers before we settled in to the crew that would be with us for my surgery. For a while, we just hung out while early prep stuff got started. I think the first thing that happened was getting my COVID test. Gosh. Those are NO FUN, right?? And I learned from the nurses that all of the COVID positive mamas they'd had come through had been asymptomatic. All of them! Isn't that nuts? Obviously, this made me nervous that I was going to come back positive, too.


Got into my fancy gear, and they hooked me up to a bunch of monitors under my gown. 

Remember how I said a couple posts back that, because of the high-risk nature of my pregnancy/delivery, I would have to have two OB's present? One of the OB's that would be in on my delivery was actually a doctor from a sister practice. I had never met her before, but I instantly liked her because when the nurse came in for my COVID test (in her scary hazmat suit), Dr. W came to stand by me, held out her hand, and told me to squeeze until it was over. That's a solid human being right there. (And yeah, I did squeeze her fingers until it was over.)

Once that got sent off for a rush result, things started moving very quickly. I found out that I was being moved to the top of the schedule and even displacing two other women who were already scheduled for c-sections that morning, thanks to my being higher-risk than they were. I felt a tiny bit bad about that, just because I knew that they had been fasting and prepping for their scheduled sections...only to learn that they'd gotten bumped. 

My doctor showed up shortly after that, stood in the doorway for a second, sighed a heavily sarcastic sigh, and said, "Oh, you."

I'm always causing trouble.

One nurse put an IV line in my left hand while the nurse anesthetist put one in my right. Again, high-risk pregnancy = extra precautions like two IV ports, which was no fun. Because there had been no time for my Group B Strep test results to come back, they went ahead and gave me preventative antibiotics in one of those IV's. My COVID test came back negative (WHEW), the anesthesiologist and OB went through all of the you-know-you-could-die-but-you-can't-sue-us waivers that I needed to sign, and my doctor did a quick ultrasound to make sure that the baby and all of her accessories were where they were expected to be before the incisions were made.



Fun note: the nurse anesthetist was Nigerian and had worked as a midwife in Nigeria for 25 years before moving to the States. She was delightful and definitely lifted the mood for me. The Lord knew that a West African friend would give me a needed boost. (If you haven't known me for very long, I should maybe mention that I lived in Senegal for a while after high school and have a super special place in my heart for West Africa.)

My entourage and I then walked down to the OR, getting a round of encouragement from the nurses' station on the way. Brad was given his special suit, hat, mask, and shoe covers so that he could come in after they put me under (because, like all of my previous deliveries, I was getting general anesthesia. I have a very long story and complicated history revolving around anesthesia.). 



Once we were in the OR, I really started feeling the nerves and anxiety. All at the same time, the following took place:
1. They began taping the drape over me.
2. The anesthesiologists were clamping oxygen over my mouth and nose, blocking my ability to see anything other than a hand over my face, which made me VERY claustrophobic. And, the oxygen is so concentrated that you can't exactly breathe normally.
3. They began strapping my arms down and flushing both IV's (which made me even more claustrophobic, knowing I couldn't breathe OR move).
4. One nurse started prepping my incision site, which was fairly uncomfortable.
5. Another nurse began inserting my catheter, which was wildly uncomfortable (they usually put in catheters after the patient's spinal block has been inserted and taken effect, meaning that most people don't feel the catheter.). To be fair, the nurse apologized repeatedly and tried to get it done quickly. But gosh, that's miserable.

It was all very overwhelming and quite a bit of it was really uncomfortable and/or painful. I started tearing up just a bit from the overwhelm. I tried to blink the tears back without anyone seeing, but apparently, everyone saw. Both the nurse anesthetist and the anesthesiologist started patting my hands. Thankfully, they also realized I was struggling to breathe normally and adjusted the oxygen mask a bit to make it easier. My doctor (and Dr. W, the second doctor) also realized I was crying and came up to my head to reassure me and encourage me. I think they thought I was primarily scared, which wasn't actually my biggest issue, but it was kind of them to care. Lots of head and hand patting. Which, somehow, made it harder for me to stop crying (I'm blaming the hormones and lack of sleep). I wasn't really able to acknowledge them and their kind words much, as my arms were strapped down and my face was covered and immobilized, but I thought kind thoughts toward them which counts, right?

Mercifully, they started my anesthesia, and I was finally unconscious.

I have to cobble together the next bits of the story from Brad's info and subsequent pictures, as I wasn't conscious again for the next couple hours. But, roughly: they brought Brad in, and he sat by my head until they got Hallie out. At that point, he went with Hallie and her care team while mine put me back together.


This particular doctor is quite petite, and when Brad met her before Brynna was born, he asked me if she would have to stand on a stool for the delivery. I had said that was silly. Then wouldn't you know? She DID. This time, he got photographic evidence.


So funny!

I came to a bit later and was crying-again (I promise I never cry this much!)- this time because my incision HURT and my throat was aching from having been intubated. Little fact about general anesthesia for a c-section: when you come to, you FEEL it. Because there's no spinal block, the pain isn't actually blocked- it's just put on hold. Thankfully, they got some serious pain meds going very soon, and I finally woke up more, pulled myself together, and stopped crying.


The good stuff (you know...when you push that green button)

And once I did those things, I was able to meet my baby!

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