At lunch time on March 1st, I was on the couch, talking to the admin at the kids’ school about an upcoming event, and casually texting my cousin about whether or not she should get her daughter’s ears pierced when I adjusted my enormous body and felt a gush. For a few minutes, I didn’t think anything of it; I was sure I had just peed. Let’s face it–all of the pressure was making it happen more and more, so why wouldn’t it start to happen when I was just sitting around minding my own business? But then I got to thinking…was there a pop? Maybe. Did it feel like maybe my pad wasn’t handling the amount of liquid? And oh yeah, didn’t I lose my mucous plug the night before? This is when I took to Twitter, asking “Is it safe to say that you would know the difference between peeing your pants and your water breaking? Um…asking for a friend”. This was before I bugged my husband who was in a chamber of commerce luncheon with senators and congress people. That’s right, Twitter knew first!
I sat for a bit and then stood up. I got Hannah some lunch. I texted Shelly 150 times. And gush. And gush again. And so I called Ed. He did not answer. I texted him to call me and responded to his everything ok text with “I think my water broke…but I’m ok.” Then he called me, and booked it out of his luncheon. I told him I was going to take a shower, and not to rush but of course he did and was home before I was out of the shower, had childcare arranged for the big kids, and had his aunt on the way to the hospital to meet us to grab Han. I still took my time, and even though I kept gushing I thought maybe, just maybe this is some sort of weird bladder problem. There was a whole ton of baby in there, you know.
Anyway, we finally got out of the house, and as Ed hit the thruway speeding I told him to relax. This was not an emergency. We probably weren’t even having the babies today! Hahahaa. Oh, ha.
We got to the hospital, and got Hannah situated in Aunt G’s car and I insisted on walking in to labor and delivery, and managed to soak all the way through my pants on the way in, so that was nice. There was paperwork, and then we were put in a combined triage/recovery room because there were no labor and delivery rooms available. I changed in to a gown, splatted more water all over the floor, and did not need a litmus test to determine that my water had in fact broken. We were there to stay.
I was ok for a while. An IV was started and the blood pressure monitoring. My doctor was still a ways away. We had a sonogram to make sure the babies were still breech…and they were, so it was C-section ahoy. I was ok at the time. Really I was. Scared out of my mind, but ok. That is until the girl wheeled in to recovery next to me was screaming in pain because her spinal hadn’t taken, so she was put under for the delivery and didn’t have time for any pain meds. And the one across from me had been put under for her delivery too. This was when I started to cry hysterically. I didn’t want to have surgery. Not at all. Could I go home? Could I change my mind? (No.) I got it together though, and met the anesthesiologist and talked through the plan. No narcotics if we could help it. He would be with me through everything. Tell him if I felt sick. He was very comforting (and not the one who couldn’t get the spinals to work on those other girls.
There was only one OR open in labor and delivery, so we were told that it could be a while, but then based on the number of women who were currently delivering and not wanted to have a build-up of ladies waiting for sections I was told I was up next. I was prepped for surgery with a shave (if anyone ever asks me what to do before a section, I will suggest a good wax, because the nurse butchered me), a catheter and tons of iv fluids. Before I knew it, I was being rolled in to the OR and Ed was left to put on his scrubs.
The OR was just like it looks on TV. Cold, sterile and there were tools and different groups of doctors all over the place. I moved from my roller bed to the table, and we got right to work on the spinal. It didn’t feel too much different from an epidural going in, until it felt like he hit a nerve in my leg. Apparently, that’s what he was going for though as he asked where exactly I felt it. One more jab, and everything went warm and then numb. My whole body feeling asleep up to my armpits was by far the weirdest thing I had ever felt.
A large curtain was put up, and I was flat on my back. I could only see the ceiling, Ed to my left and the anesthesiologist to my right. I felt nothing when the dr. did the practice cut, except for immediately sick, so the meds in my IV were adjusted. Before we knew it, the surgery was underway.
Molly, who was low in my belly, came out like a breeze. I didn’t even feel the tugging and shifting everyone had warned me about. She was born at 5:07 PM and the dr. peeked her tiny head at me around the corner before taking her to get cleaned up. She screamed her fool head off the whole time. Angus was a different story. I could feel them trying to maneuver him out, but he was wedged so high up under my ribs, they were having a hard time. It took a lot of manipulation, leaving his poor feet and legs black and blue, but he was out at 5:11PM. Again, the doctor peeked his head around the curtain and he was taken to be assessed.
I don’t remember much of what happened as they finished cleaning me out and stitching me up. Ed was back and forth between the babies and me. The anesthesiologist told me stories of his own twins, talked about my irregular heartbeat, and my thyroid. I felt like I was in and out of it, and everything was kind of surreal. Soon enough though, it was over and I was being moved back to my rolling bed. That is the one thing I remember feeling–half my body was asleep and I was told to rock it back and forth so they could get me back in to it. I felt all of my insides shift, but couldn’t feel the outside of my body. It was…weird.
Anyway, back in recovery, they brought the babies in, and I was finally able to hold them. I was lying flat so it was hard, but first one at a time, and then with Ed’s help, together. Soon, I was able to be propped up, and was able to nurse Molly. When she was done, she was taken up to the nursery to be assessed, and we tried with Gus. He wouldn’t latch, as hard as we tried. He cried and cried and would settle for a minute or 2, and then would cry some more. Eventually, they took him to the nursery as well.
I spent several hours in recovery waiting for a room. Ed left for a bit to make sure the big kids were situated. He got back after 10PM and I was still in recovery, but getting ready to move. When we got upstairs, we were told that Gus had a tube feeding because he wouldn’t take a bottle, and that they were watching him. Molly was able to come to my room with me. It wasn’t long before Ed left, and the nurses came to say that Gus was breathing quickly and still would not feed, so he was going to the NICU.
I’m not going to use this post to talk about that whole (shitty) experience. I will be discussing it, but it needs its own post.
Anyway, the next morning came, and my catheter was removed, and eventually I had to pee which meant getting out of bed for the first time. This was by far the worst part of the C-section process. It hurt. It hurt so bad. Getting in and out of bed, sitting down, everything…it just hurt. BUT! Sunday was better, and by Monday I was able to walk myself to the NICU instead of being wheeled, and by Tuesday when Molly and I went home, I felt sore but mostly normal, except for the post surgery swelling…OMG the swelling! My feet looked like bricks! I couldn’t even wear my shoes home.
The first 2 days at home were maybe made a little bit easier by only having one baby here, except for her only wanting to be on top of me. I slept sitting up on the couch for a few nights, not unlike the last 6 months of my pregnancy. I’m thankful to have felt as good as I did, so that I was able to deal with Molly and drive myself to the hospital to spend time with Gus. I think I will always remember that first drive, when the space behind the steering wheel of my van where there was no longer belly just felt so luxurious!
Luckily Gus was able to come home on Thursday, so we only spent 2 days without him, and everything has been smooth sailing (or as much as it can be with 2 newborns) ever since! The babies are 3 weeks old today, and it’s hard to even remember them not being here. We are head over heels in love with them!