My C-Section

Wiley is asleep right now and I'm waiting for my dinner to cool down so I thought I'd post, this will probably end up turning into a ramble because even though I had a lovely baby shower today, I just feel annoyed. My head has hurt all day, I miss my husband who's gone the majority of the time trying to take care of us and even though I'm doing great with Wiley, it would be nice to feel like I had more of a break. I'm currently feeding him every two hours and that takes it's toll when every two hours you have to struggle to get a baby to use you as a milk cow.

But I will talk about the c-section and my feelings on it now that I've been through the procedure and lived to tell the tale. Now obviously this is my personal experience and my personal opinion so it won't be the same for everybody.

My c-section went well as far, as far as I can tell. They got me set up and started cutting into me about 7:15, they didn't even have Patrick in the room yet. I had thought they were going to ask me if I could feel the scalpel before they really got into it but they didn't, I suspected they had already started and it was confirmed for me when I saw Patrick come in and the look on his face when he could see them cutting into me.

The lead-up to the c-section was the worst part of the actual surgery, at least pain wise. I was so scared I was trying to hold back tears. Every time the anesthesiologist put the numbing agent in my back I could feel the needle and would cry. Apparently he put extra in my back, according to a nurse. I assume it's because of the fact I kept saying "Oww" and freaking out when he'd stick me. My poor nurse had to keep me calm during that and the epidural, I felt so embarrassed.

Once they finished and the epidural was in I started to shake, which they assured me was just a normal side-effect... but I honestly believe it was also just the sheer terror I was feeling by that point. I had already been anxious, then I got pricked and poked and everything I didn't want done to me and I knew that surgery was imminent. I even suspect they thought it was abnormal, they kept asking if I was cold and put a blanket over my arms to help me once I was in the surgery room... but then they still asked if I was ok afterward, which I suspect was because of how much I was still shaking. They had to shift me from my bed to a table, I thought they were going to drop me at one point and started whimpering and reached out for whoever was closest to me that my arms could get.

Wiley was born at 7:22, I think they actually started cutting about 7:18. Patrick had just sat down for a minute and was petting me when they asked if he wanted to watch Wiley be born. I remember he kinda stood up to look over the curtain and later just told me "it was kinda weird"... maybe he said something more elaborate, I was on pain meds when I asked. I remember the doctor exclaiming "Oh, you are a big boy!" when she first saw Wiley. Shortly after that they told Patrick he could go with Wiley to see him get cleaned up and weighed, he started to stall and stay with me and I told him to go on. There was a man (I guess another anesthesiologist? He wasn't the one that inserted the epidural but I remember him using the term anesthesiologist somewhere in his job description) kept trying to make small talk with me, I was relieved almost when he started just talking to the surgeons about their kids and their plans for labor day.

The first photo Patrick got of Wiley

They brought Wiley back to me for a few minutes which is when we got our first photos together. They told me he was 10lbs 6 oz and 22 inches long. I was still pretty terrified at that point, and in shock and just doped up. It was a planned c-section so I don't think my body was ready at all, and even though I had known I was going to give birth my mind still was having trouble grasping it.

My first photo with Wiles.

I don't think I even felt like I could hold him properly at that point, I just wanted somebody else to take him because my arms didn't feel like my arms... they were shaky and not fully under my control.

First family photo.

Then after they let me see Wiley they took him and Patrick to the recovery room to wait for me while they finished closing me up. Around 8 AM (possibly a little sooner) I was wheeled into recovery to meet with them.

I remember before the surgery, when the epidural was kicking in, how I could still move my big toe. Once I got into recovery they wanted to start me breastfeeding right away. Normally I'd have been thrilled, my original plan was to nurse immediately... but my original plan involved me pushing him out of my own volition and being able to function normally afterward. I was so shaky, they tried to hand him to me and help me get him to latch, I just wanted them to do the work. I kept apologizing, saying how I couldn't do it and needed help for a few hours afterward.... I wanted to, I really did, but I was so scared I'd drop him and my arms felt like they belonged to somebody else. An hour or so later I was trying to breast feed again and attempting to push/pull my entire body, including my numb and more or less paralyzed lower half up the bed so I could sit up and hold him. At one point I just barely managed to shift my legs and they told me what a good job I was doing to even be able to do that, I was less thrilled... it was just another example of how I didn't want that surgery.

They took my catheter out the next morning at 4 AM. I was up and trying to walk on my own a few hours later and I hurt so bad. I forced myself to walk the halls with Patrick, I was determined to get well faster.

I would honestly never choose an elective c-section. People talk about convenience--but you're getting major surgery, you need rest... and you have a newborn, you're not getting it. You hurt, not just a temporary pain like I imagine actual labor is (where yes, you're in lots of pain for hours), but a long and drawn out pain. Even two weeks later I'm not totally healed, and I'm doing much better than I think most people have expected. I can't do any holds besides the football hold while breastfeeding and I struggle, it's killed my wrists and who knows if I'd had him naturally what position I'd prefer.

Now, I'm not saying I think my c-section was the wrong choice. I had a 10lb 6oz baby, while people manage that--I at least can tell myself it was a wise decision, that he actually was a large baby, etc. I can comfort myself with the fact nothing bad happened to him due to his size, although we don't know that anything would have... but at least it was justified more so than if he'd wound up being 7lbs and some odd ounces. But I thought long and hard about it and only agreed last-minute because my doctor raised valid points about how with a bigger baby I wouldn't have the easiest vaginal birth and the quicker recovery that I wanted was likely not going to happen for me... But if my pregnancy had been totally normal I would never have considered a c-section (and Lord knows I fought long and hard not to have it).

So looking back, was it as terrible as I thought it would be? In some ways, no... in others, yes. My mental fear was so strong and I honesty don't think it would be any easier the second time around. Two weeks later and I still stand by my statement to Patrick that we may have to just adopt our next child (we'd already discussed adopting at some point, so this isn't a total change from our family plans) and that I was terrified to ever have another baby with him again as we don't know why he turned out so big (we assume Patrick and I just make big babies). I love pregnancy, but if I get pregnant with a second big baby then I'll have to go through the same thing again, especially now that I already had a c-section once and am automatically considered high risk for any future pregnancies. I'd love a little girl with him, but this is a very real fear for me. I know they say you forget, maybe I will to... but I don't know.

Anyway, I'm very tired and have run out of steam to blog.I meant to post more about other events that happened recently but I'll have to post them later. I need to wake Wiley up and feed him, anyway.