What Happened the Day You Were Born

Here's the story of Maria's birth, in anticipation of her birthday (!) this weekend. I am working on a month by month breakdown of her first year for her actual birthday but I have some time this morning so I thought I would get this up, too. I wrote it very shortly after she was born so I wouldn't forget and I've had it in my drafts in my email since then. I have to say it has gone fast, this first year. Normally I want to smack people when they tell me how FAST it all goes and to BE AWARE of every BEAUTIFUL second because you know I think that is nonsense, BUT I am not completely heartless, and I do like to remember how excited and happy Mike and I were when we went to the hospital that day. I have a friend who just lost a baby who was like two weeks old and I keep looking at Maria and Anthony today and thinking what miracles they are and how lucky I am to have them. SO. Anyway. Here it is.

Maria Kathleen, January 11, 2008

The morning that the c-section was scheduled, Mike woke me up at 5:30 to eat. I was worried about not eating all day because of the gestational diabetes. When my blood sugar got too low, I was getting sick and I didn't want to spend the day before surgery (and the baby being born) throwing up. So I went and ate and then read for a while until Anthony got up. We hung out and then around 9:00 my doctor called and asked if I wanted to have the baby early. Did I! So I started to say yes and then Mike reminded me that I ate, which I confessed and then it was canceled. We felt kind of sad and jerked around, but I just said I'd see the doctor later and moved on.

My mom came over and we left. I was worried about Anthony but he was fine. We checked in to the hospital. We went up to labor and delivery and the nurse told me that my c-section might be late and she hated to have me sit around. But did I want to walk around? Um. No. She was kind of an idiot, but we eventually settled in and I changed into my robe, etc. They put in an IV and several residents and doctors came in. The anesthesiologist came in, she was nice and warned me about everything that could happen from the spinal (which is a LOT). The surgery technician came in and said she'd say "Happy Birthday!" to the baby and asked us our baby names. I never saw my doctor. I was supposed to go at 2:00, I think we went at like 2:30, so it wasn't too bad. I walked down there and then I got up on this really high table and they gave me the spinal. The attending anesthesiologist had a Cubs watch on, she was a big fan and of the Indians too. The spinal went fine and they laid me down right away. Then they checked what I could feel and couldn't feel. My doctor came in, we talked about weird things. Some book called The Man Who Thought His Wife was a Hat, or something? We talked about pain from surgery could be anywhere in your body. Or something. Then it seemed like they were starting and I said "Hey! Where is my husband?" Apparently they couldn't find him! Finally he came in and they started. I knew what was going on because the anesthesiologist kept getting phone calls and she'd tell whoever was on the other end what was going on. "He just cut through the uterus", she'd say. So it wasn't too long, but the doctor was *really* working. At one point my water broke and they all jumped back, it went everywhere, it sounded like a pipe burst or something. The doctor sounded like he was working out or something, or lifting weights. They used suction, they said, for her head. It was all very unnerving and I was just praying and praying.

The doctor said "you've got guts, Joanne, don't let anyone tell you that you don't have guts". Apparently he was handling said guts while he said this. How gross - I can't imagine anyone lets their husbands look at that nastiness. I mean, my guts? Out of my body?

And then she was born and he said "Do you want to know what it is?" I said, yes, (you dope), I thought. The technician said Happy Birthday Maria! right as Hathaway was saying It's a Girl! My first thought was that she wouldn't have to be circumcised. Then he was stitching me back up, and I said "how'd it go with my uterus?" and he said fine, you still have it. I heard Maria cry and it was hale but not crazy mad like Anthony. They said Mike could go and see her and they brought her over. She looked beautiful and her eyes were open - Anthony's were closed when they brought him over. We were just in there for a while and then we went to recovery and she nursed really well and Mike called everyone. It was nicer this time because I didn't have any shaking from the epidural like I did the first time. I also never got sick, even though I thought I was going to on Saturday but the nurses talked me down. We stayed in the hospital until Monday, same as with Anthony.

Monday morning some jackass pediatrician came in to tell me that because Maria's weight was down to 8,8 from 9,6, she should have formula. She said she was in danger of dehydration. I was so stupid and tired and Mike wasn't there yet and I said okay and then the nurse came in and I said HELL no, this is ridiculous, my milk isn't it yet and she was just born on Friday! So I had to pump to prove that my milk was coming in and then they 'let' me go. Ha, I would have killed them if they tried to stop me. I hadn't seen Anthony since Friday morning and that's the longest I've ever gone without seeing him and I really, really wanted to get home. I always think I want to stay in the hospital but I never do.

That's kind of an abrupt ending, right? But what can you do, that's what I wrote! I suppose the blog picks up the rest of what happened. So happy almost birthday, Maria!