I wasn’t going to write a whole birth story because they usually creep me out with all the unnecessary details. If you have to start a story with a disclaimer of “If you’d rather not hear about my_________” than consider me gone.

But I need somewhere to put these pictures so here you go. I apologize in advance for the length. Brevity has never been a strong character trait.

We were scheduled to go to the hospital at 8:30 Friday morning for the procedure (external cephalic version for those who like medical terminology) to turn the still-breech baby. I know. You probably thought I rushed to the hospital last minute. I like to keep a little mystery and surprise around here. My ribs hurt terribly the night before so I was only able to get about two hours sleep. I was so bright-eye and bushy tailed in the morning!
They got us settled in and while the nurse was getting my iv ready Christopher asked her the weirdest thing she’s heard in the delivery room. That question lead to a whole discussion on placenta encapsulation. So that was very pleasant.
Greg the anesthesiologist came in to prepare me for the epidural. Under normal circumstances I would have wanted to avoid an epidural but they don’t like trying to turn the baby without the patient having one. People. Speaking from experience, NEVER EVER have that procedure done without pain medication. You will thank you later. I liked Greg despite the fact that when the nurse couldn’t get the iv needle in he said he’d help even though “I don’t know how to use this kind of needle.” So reassuring.
(Here is where I skip the unpleasant/boring parts of the story.)

(And the part where I threw up.)

(That probably falls under unpleasant.)
A few hours after we arrived the doctors all crowded around to attempt the flip. They pushed on my stomach VERY hard and succeeded in turning the baby into the right position. Everyone rejoiced too soon because the baby immediately flipped back to it’s favorite room in Hotel Womb. The doctor said we could try again or go straight to a csection. I said they could try again since everyone was already there and it wouldn’t do any harm, but the baby refused to cooperate. 

They wheeled me off to the operating room and while I’d like to say I was perfectly calm, I was not. One of the medicines left me shaking like a very small leaf in a tornado and it WOULD NOT stop. The shaking made me more nervous which made the shaking worse which made the nerves worse, etc. etc. etc. I couldn’t stop crying.


When Christopher came into the room he looked like this. His outfit was way cooler than mine.
The csection was my first surgery so the fact that not only were they going to be cutting me open but also removing a person from inside me made me nervous. Christopher held my hand and Greg the anesthesiologist alternated between manning the drugs and putting his face 5” from mine and asking if I was ok. A few minutes after they started I began to feel something on my stomach. I said I could feel them pushing and was told I would be able to feel some pressure. It started getting worse and worse until (and you know this is serious because I’m breaking out the caps and I never do that) I COULD FEEL THEM DOING THE SURGERY. I may never recover from the trauma. It was awful. I tried pulling away because HELLO, PAIN but didn’t want to move too much and mess anything up. I didn’t occur to me I couldn’t move thanks to the epidural.
They opened a little window in the curtain so I could see Annabelle being born, but beyond knowing she was a girl and hearing her cry I didn’t think too much about her. I was much more concerned with my present issues. They gave me more medicine and things got a little loopy. I do remember Christopher telling me she was a girl. Every since I can remember I wanted my husband to be the one who told me the gender of our babies so for everything that didn’t go as I would have like, I’m so glad that did. I remember telling Christopher he could go see the baby and asking if she had hair. I think I remember him bringing her over to say hi but I couldn’t focus on her. I was too busy crying from pain. I continued to cry for what seemed like hours. I wasn’t even interested in holding her, I was so upset and in pain.
 
I really wanted as many pictures as possible from the day but trying to take pictures while delivering a baby is like trying to photograph your own wedding. It’s very difficult. I didn’t know until hours later that the doctor and Christopher had gotten some and they’re really special to me.
Shortly after the baby was born I made it clear to anyone who would listen that I don’t want to have another baby for a very long time. For now I am perfectly content with my one little munchkin.
Girlfriend in her going home outfit. The lion was not part of the original ensemble.

And my one big munchkin.

(Prepare to be bombarded with 7,000 Sesame pictures over the next few days. I’d say I’m sorry but I’m not. Rest assured I have no plans of turning into a mom blog where you can read diaper ointment reviews.)