Yes, I might be a little sick in the head. But in this dream the contracting would be done at home all calm and serene like. Breathing through the contractions and using yoga positions to help with the pain. Chris holding my hand and whispering encouraging words as I worked to bring our child into the world.
And as much as I wanted my dream to come true, I had to have a back up plan.
Since none of our children have ever decided to come into the world on their own accord, I was fairly certain this child wouldn’t either. But, it didn’t keep me from dreaming. Regardless, we scheduled the c-section date for two days post due date.
At my last pre-natal appointment I learned that I had neither dilated nor thinned any since my last two appointments. My body was at a standstill. My OB tried to be encouraging by reminding me that labor can come on fast and my lack of progress really was no indication of the baby not coming that week.
Well, that was sweet of her but I knew what was coming.
That day I went home and mentally prepared myself for the major abdominal surgery that was in my future. Seriously, though, what did I have to prove? As long as the baby is happy and healthy then does it really matter how she made her entrance? I never felt an ounce of disconnection with Eva even though she was a c-section baby.
What bothered me the most was knowing this was my last chance to ever experience labor. If we were to have another child (which I’m not sure is really in our plans….but then again, none of the children were really “planned”), I would automatically need a c-section. Apparently, a VBAC2 is highly frowned upon.
But, whatever, I atleast got that pitocin induced experience with the first two. And if my memory serves me correctly, it wasn’t nearly as glamorous as my fantasy.
So, back to the story of Layla. The c-section was scheduled and my mental outlook was positive. Four days in the hospital with just my baby….and drugs! Whoo Hoo! Vacay for mommy.
On Saturday, June 25th, Chris and I arrived at labor and delivery. Immediately, they began prepping me for surgery. I freaked out for a minute about the epidural. Big needle going into my spine caused tears to stream down my face. But just like the last three times, it really isn’t as bad as I make it out to be.
After a quick visit from my doctor, my numb, sleepy self was wheeled across the hall to the OR. The procedure was scheduled for 10am, but seeing as it was a Saturday and the place was a ghost town, we got started a little early.
Once in the OR, things got a little blurry for me. I was so incredibly tired. I don’t remember being that drowsy when Eva was born.
As the doctors where removing my innards layer by layer, Chris was giddy with excitement over the music selection. While he was literally jumping to Kris Kross, I heard the doctors comment on the ridiculous amount of hair on her head; something all of my children have been blessed with in an abundant amount.
If they were seeing hair, I knew her birth had to be close. Chris was snapping pictures and marveling at the fact that his daughter will be brought into this world to Snoop Dogg’s, Gin and Juice….one of his long time favorite songs!
At 10:01 am, I met my daughter. She was beautiful and I couldn’t wait to get my hands on her.
I watched as they cleaned her up and weighed her. I watched as Chris got to cut the cord, which according to him and the nurse was the fattest, juiciest cord either of them had ever seen.
My doctor told me that the baby was much higher than she originally thought and deemed the c-section a good decision. This baby wasn’t planning to leave the nest anytime soon on her own.
And then, the epidural started to wear off. As everyone was busy putting me back together or ogling over my little baby, I could feel them digging around inside of me and was choking back vomit. I cried. I couldn’t stop. I wanted my baby. I wanted them to be done sewing me up. I wanted to not feel so tired.
Finally, the anesthesiologist noticed my discomfort and bump up the medication while Chris brought the baby over for me to look at.
I was in the recovery room by 10:30 am. Layla Faith was in my arms only minutes later. And finally, all was right with my world.
That 7lbs 7oz little bundle made my heart swell. Her sweet new baby smell, her wide, curious eyes, her absolute beauty. And now she was back with her mommy, right where she was supposed to be.
And she hasn’t left my arms much since that day.