November 15, 2007

5 am- The alarm goes off. I've been asleep since approximately 4:12. I would lie down, then remember that Ethan's favorite book was under the rocking chair- what if he couldn't find it in the morning? I'd get up and place it next to his bed. Oh, better put one more load of clothes in the washing machine- my parents will have their hands full taking care of Ethan for the next few days, they shouldn't have to worry about my laundry, too. Check the suitcase one more time- do we have enough clothes for the baby? Is the outfit going to be too warm/too cold/too scratchy? One last glance through "The Essential C-Section Guide"- it's very very very rare to die during the surgery, right? Promise? The alarm goes off. We get up, fumbling to get dressed in the dark. We peek in at Ethan. I want to do something to commemorate this moment as a family of three, since next time we will be together we will be a family of four. But I can't think of anything, and we shouldn't wake him up anyway. "God bless you," my mom whispers. We get in the car. It's so cold. I talk silently to the baby- are you ready? I can't wait to meet you. I pray for our safety during the surgery. Tears stream down my cheeks. I really don't want to be cut open. Matt takes my hand. We alternate between nervous chatter and quiet moments.

5:45- We arrive at the hospital and walk through the silent halls to the pre-op area. My friend's mother is our nurse; she greets us with a hug and a smile. I change into the lovely hospital gown. Someone puts the IV in. It seems to be in an odd place on my arm and it hurts when I move. I ask Matt to go get Kate to fix it. Matt says the nurse knew what she was doing. I've had plenty of IVs and this is a bad one, I snap. The anesthesiologist comes in. I ask how many epidurals he's done; how many bad reactions have occurred. Let him do his job, Matt hisses. He is pale. The anesthesiologist is very reassuring. I lean onto Matt while that huge freaking needle goes into my back. He says just the right things.

6:50- They wheel me into the operating room. It is so cold. They wrap extra blankets around my arms and neck but I can't stop shaking. Matt comes in and takes my hand. He is adorable in scrubs; he should have been a doctor. I worry that the epidural won't work. You won't feel a thing, the doctors promise. Kate kisses my forehead, Matt squeezes my fingers. He looks over the drape as the doctors begin. What's happening? I ask. I can feel them pulling and tugging. I can't stop the tears. I feel sick. The anesthesiologist says he wants to hold off giving me the anti-nausea meds as long as possible so the baby won't get as much drugs. Still no baby. Is he ok? Can he breathe? Why is it taking so long? As long as you are breathing, he is breathing, Dr. Pruden says. OK! I can do that! Inhale, exhale, finally something useful for me do. They're making the incision bigger, Matt tells me. More pulling, oh my god I thought this was supposed to be easier than labor.

7:26- He's out! He's not crying, why is he not crying? I catch a glimpse of my baby as they bundle him into the incubator. He is tiny. He is beautiful. Matt follows him. I want to hold him so badly. They put me back together and tell me I did great. Yes, I must admit I did a fantastic job of lying on my back and not puking.

8:00- The recovery room. Kate stays by my side, checking vitals and wrapping me in warm blankets. My temp is low- oh, ya think? Matt is with the baby. I want to see him. Dr. Pruden comes in and tells me he is healthy and wonderful. He aspirated some fluid. He is on oxygen now and they'll do a chest x-ray but I'll get to see him soon. She gives me a hug and says he'll be fine. My IV hurts and I feel sick.

An hour later, they get me ready to go back to my room. We can go by the nursery, Kate says, but remember those tubes and monitors look pretty frightening. I don't care, I just want to see him. Matt is standing by his crib. He -Evan! that's Evan!- is so tiny. I stare and stare.

Matt comes into the room to check on me. He shows me some pictures of our baby. A specialist looked at the x-ray. His lungs are a little underdeveloped. The gestational-age tests put him as a 36-week baby, not 39 weeks like we thought. But he'll be fine. He hugs me and goes back to the nursery. I call Ethan and tell him our baby is here. I miss him so badly already, I can't imagine staying in this place away from him for four days. They will come visit soon. I make more phone calls. In the movies, the father handles this while the mother, with combed hair and clean teeth, peacefully nurses the baby. This sucks.

2:30- Matt and Dr. Pruden come back. Two nurses are behind them, pushing a huge machine with a tiny crib. The baby can be in our room now but we can't hold him yet. I stroke his little hands with my finger. He sleeps.

My grandpa comes to visit. He has driven up from Lincoln but doesn't stay long. He peeks at the baby and says he is proud of us, then heads home.

Dr. Pruden comes back and checks our vitals. I can hold the baby!! She carefully transfers him to my arms and tells us what numbers to watch for. Matt listens carefully. I breathe in the scent of my baby. You are Evan, I marvel. I am your mommy. He keeps sleeping. He won't nurse. It's OK, Dr. Pruden says. He's had a rough day. He needs more rest than food. He'll figure it out. I cradle him to my chest.

Tessa, Ethan, and my parents arrive. Ethan runs to me and Matt helps him onto the bed. He bumps my IV and elbows my incision but I don't mind. This is your brother, we tell him. Here is our baby. He smiles and watches him closely. Cindy and Brayden come in, and my dad takes the boys out to the play area. I am glad to see my family and friends but I can't focus on the conversation. Matt takes the baby.

During the night, he latches on. He nurses and nurses. Thank you, God. I hold him close to me all night.

The next day he is breathing well and his numbers are good. They take away the big incubator-crib and bring in a regular little bed but we never put him down in it. Other people are allowed to hold him. We position him on Ethan's lap and take pictures. My parents and Tessa cuddle him. How is it possible to love this little tiny person so much, when we didn't even know him until now? How is it possible to have been so happy before we knew him, when only now that he is here, I am whole?