I won’t tell you that my first moments as a mother were some beautiful thing filled with rainbows and glitter. In all honesty, fear had a hold on me from the time my water broke at 2am, and for several hours after she was born. Fear, which made everything a blur – the drive to the hospital in the middle of the night, getting checked in, trying to relax through the wee hours of the morning until my OB arrived, confirming that I needed a c-section.
All that anxiety intensified upon entering the operating room. It’s so cold in here. What if something goes wrong with the spinal injection? Where is my husband? Why won’t they let him in here right now? What if something’s wrong with the baby? Five weeks early! We don’t have everything ready. How painful is this going to be?
I was strapped to the table and prepared to be cut open for my first ever surgery. Why is it taking so long? Oh, Good Lord, I felt that scalpel against my abdomen. All that pushing and pulling. It’s so hard to breathe! Just close your eyes and get through it.
Then everything got hazy, and I struggled to focus on the light above me. I felt dizzy and could barely see*. And suddenly – through all that haziness – I just barely saw this little yellow thing being held probably only a couple inches from my face. I was told to kiss her, and then she was swept away and I passed out.
About two hours later I woke up in the recovery room…my legs were still paralyzed and I was still dizzy. It turned out that the spinal hadn’t taken effect as quickly as they wanted, so I was administered an additional anesthesia in the middle of surgery. But that was over, and it was time to go see my little girl for the first time. The hospital staff wheeled me out of the recovery room and over into the NICU. There she was; all tiny and wrinkled in her incubator, attached to countless monitors and with feeding and breathing tubes up her nose. But she was perfect in her own little way…a fighter from the very beginning. “Hey, beauty” I said, smiling at the most precious little person I had ever seen.
…and then I puked.
(This post is a part of the series 30 Things My Children Should Know About Me – chronicling 30 different aspects of life as it is now for my girls to read someday later in their lives.)