Mom of Two! - The Birth Story

The night before our C-section (Dec. 29), I was furiously checking items off my to-do list and planning for when Hubby got off work. Just about everything was finally in place, so I wanted to treat ourselves to haircuts (to hopefully not look 100% shabby when meeting Baby 2 for the first time because I knew for sure I certainly would be a mess). And that could be followed by one last cinnamon roll outing as a family of 3, because that was kind of our thing, it's right by the barber shop, and who knows when we'll get a chance to do it again for a while?

Baby 1 showed his big brother maturity already, sitting in the haircut chair by himself for the first time instead of sitting in Mommy's lap. Then after quick evening haircuts on a cold December night, we walked down to the cinnamon roll shop for Baby 1's reward. He recognized the logo on the shop door already and was excited to enjoy his favorite edible cookie dough there.

We sat and ate and took pictures, even recording Baby 1's adorable dancing antics as the sugar hit him. We got one last selfie as a family of 3, one last pregnant family selfie, and came home to finish packing all our bags.

My C-section was scheduled for 7:30am on December 30, with a hospital arrival time of 5:30am. Which meant we had to drop off our firstborn with grandparents around 5am to make it on time. I lay down next to my son, a little sad that we would be leaving him again (our practice sleepover was emotional on both sides) and a little sad that the birth wasn't going to be the one I had originally hoped for. A scheduled major surgery has a lot different feeling than a sudden water breaking or contractions waking me up in the middle of the night. But it still meant we would be getting to meet our newest family member very, very soon.

Almost as if to help with my mood, Baby 1 decided not to sleep through putting him in the car seat at 4:45am, and instead woke up when we did, ready to go to my in-laws' house. The fact that he was taking everything so well eased my mind already, and when we arrived at my in-laws, everyone was awake to see us off with a quick prayer for Baby 2, who I could thankfully still feel moving and would hopefully be okay coming out early even with the placental problems that required the early exit.

When we said goodbye, Baby 1 wasn't clingy or emotional, so I was less clingy and emotional, able to arrive at the hospital next to Hubby with growing excitement.

Since it was 5am when we first got there, we thought we had to enter through the ER instead of the main entrance, but were relieved to learn that the main entrance was open that early so we wouldn't have to walk pregnant through an emergency room filled with possible Covid cases and other germs.

After signing in and getting new masks, we headed up the elevator to floor 3: Labor and Delivery to check in for the C-section at the nurses desk. They were expecting us and set me up in the same room where I had gone when my water broke with Baby 1--a triage area with a bathroom and hospital beds to set up IVs, monitor baby's heartbeat, and start the paperwork process for the C-section.

Hubby held my hand and asked how I was feeling and if I wanted to talk about anything. I stayed quiet, thinking about the woman I could hear laboring behind the curtain in the hospital bed next to us. I wouldn't have a chance to labor with this baby at all. But then I heard her nurse ask if the standard baby vaccines were okay with her and she responded with "just the vitamin K shot," and I realized I didn't want to be her. She had to sign a refusal form that meant she was going against recommendations. Our kids would be starting their lives with as much protection as they could from scientifically proven vaccines--which meant all three of the standard vaccines offered. I instead began to worry about every cough and sniff I heard in the background, hoping it wasn't a patient (or nurse) with Covid. Or even a cold, since I didn't want to risk myself or my early term newborn getting sick with anything.

My (sniffing) nurse Kimberly was very kind in taking care of all the standard procedures, I had blood drawn for labs, and got to meet my anesthesiologist who explained the process of the spinal block.

It was all a little nerve-wracking, and even though everyone was super nice, I still felt out of my element. After a few minutes, however, I saw my OB-GYN walk in front of our curtain wearing traditional blue hospital scrub pants and a dark green fleece jacket that made him appear more casual than he usually appeared in the doctor's office. It gave me a huge sense of relief to see someone I knew and trusted in this situation. And, as I hoped, he asked if I had any questions before the surgery. I whipped out my doctor office notebook where I wrote down questions and took notes at every appointment and the nurses surrounding us got a kick out of me taking notes. My doctor affirmed that I brought the notebook to every appointment and I felt pleased that he remembered. I wasn't just another patient to him, but he remembered me and my history even without a chart in front of him like other doctors might need. I asked about c-section recovery (Could I walk upstairs afterward?) and what would happen if we hadn't caught the placental inefficiency and done the early C-section? (Something very bad, which I could tell he didn't want to go into detail on, so I'm guessing a very real risk of baby loss).

Nurse Kimberly was also replaced by Nurse Yuri who loved my son's name and was the first person to pronounce it 100% correctly! She explained that she was from Central America and had family in Austin, Texas. I mentioned my grandfather in Texas and the inspiration for Baby 1's name as well.

Finally we just had to wait on the results of my labs before beginning the surgery. It was running late (we were past the 7:30am surgery start time now) but arrived at last. Hubby made sure our belongings were safely stowed in a designated room for afterward and that he had our camera ready for going into the Operating Room. Because this wasn't a rushed emergency during labor, I was allowed to walk to the OR down the hall myself instead of being pushed down in a bed as had happened last time. I was instructed to climb up onto a very small table and was walked through the spinal block. I had to lean forward and the area would be numbed first with a "bee sting" sensation. The anesthesiologist promised that would be the worst of my day as I wouldn't feel the spinal needle going through. I leaned forward, instructed to act as if I was trying to bite my stomach, and my OB-GYN held onto my shoulders to ensure I didn't fall and to comfort me with a reassuring stroke of his thumb. I was nervous, made worse by the fact that even though the spinal didn't really hurt, the medicine caused me to shiver as if the OR itself was a complete ice box.

I was helped to lie down and all the prep work began--getting the instruments, hanging the curtain, etc. I remembered thinking that the room looked a little different from last time, and my doctor said we were actually in the second OR and last time we were in the first (the staff were impressed he remembered and he said it was a very heightened situation, which I guess proved memorable for more than just me!). My belly was prodded a few times and I was asked if I could feel anything sharp or pokey. Since I did feel something a little pokey, I spoke up, terrified that they would start before I was completely numb. I did NOT want to feel myself being cut into at all because I was nervous to say anything! So they decided to wait, and even tipped me backward a little to help the medicine travel up my spine faster. Then the anesthesiologist was asked why there was no music and he jokingly apologized that he was taking care of the patient instead. He asked what I might like to listen to, and I responded with what I had imagined responding with if I were to ask what kind of music my baby would come into the world with. One of my favorite genres: 80s rock. The anesthesiologist was so pleased, he said he had a playlist at the ready for that. Unfortunately I didn't recognize the exact song that was playing during surgery or my baby's birth this time. But it had a nice sound to it.

I saw Hubby let into the OR, and the staff made space so I could see him and have a good view of where the baby would be taken to be weighed and warmed afterward. The view of everything was pretty memorable, though I wished I could stop shaking since at the moment that was the most uncomfortable part. Then surgery began.

I felt touching, but thankfully nothing sharp. Nothing opening. But the pressure was so much stronger than last time. I remember gasping as I felt strong tugging that was almost pain but nothing compared to such a sensation as being cut open without anesthesia. I remember guessing that this was the moment they were pulling out the baby. I think I was right. Shortly thereafter I heard Baby's cries--so much different from Baby 1's first little cry! Despite being early and smaller, Baby 2's voice was LOUD. A deeper throaty sound that reminded me of the quacking of a duck! I cried briefly (probably not as much as Hubby) and was given a sneak peak as he was lowered down to me so closely behind the curtain. Unlike Baby 1, Baby 2 and his feet were not quite as purple, but a little more white--as if covered in a coating. I later learned that Hubby cut the umbilical cord this time too! (He was too nervous to try with Baby 1). Someone even took pictures of him doing it! So I have those memories that I could witness myself as well. Someone also took pictures of me, Hubby, and Baby 2 together in our first moments in the OR as well. I'm so blown away by everyone's kindness and support.

I couldn't stop smiling, and was relieved I had more time to touch and half-hold my son this time than I did last time when he was whisked away after our first moments together. I remembered overhearing that they would be sending off my placenta to determine what had happened to cause it to fail. I also overheard and memorized the exact time of his birth (8:39am) and his weight (5 lbs, 13 oz). Hubby heard my doctor say that we got Baby out just in time as his fluids were almost gone!

I was more alert this time than with Baby 1 as I was wheeled into a birthing suite for recovery time with Hubby and Baby, where Nurse Yuri was the only other person. We had quiet moment for bonding and taking more photos together, courtesy of Yuri. I couldn't believe how tiny Baby 2 was, and so different from his big brother already. He was given a hat right away, but we quickly learned he had SO MUCH hair! I remember being able to wiggle my toe on my right side already (not my left yet), and knew that the anesthesia was thankfully wearing off. I think this was when he first latched as well and we learned some nursing techniques that were vaguely familiar from last time but still a bit challenging in practice with a real live newborn again. We were at last taken to a recovery room (too bad we couldn't stay in the large and fancy birthing suite). At least the new room was familiar from last time, and I was both pleased and a little sad that they gave us a room at the end of the hall with a perfect view of the city where fireworks would be set off for New Year's Day. I was pleased because it was a fantastic view and bright window. I was sad because I didn't want to be there for New Year's Day. I was still hopeful, based on the words of my OB-GYN, that we would be able to go home after just one night. I didn't want to be away from Baby 1 for too long and I wanted to spend the holiday with our complete family.

But at the moment I didn't have time to think about it. I was taking in my new baby's face (unlike Baby 1, Baby 2 looked so much like his daddy!). Nurses changed and I documented their names (Tracy, then Jayda). At some point we contacted my mom, who was allowed to be my only other visitor besides Hubby. Unfortunately, the anesthesia caused a LOT of vomiting. I remember throwing up only once after Baby 1's C-section birth. This time I couldn't stop, even though I hadn't eaten anything since 7pm the night before! My mouth tasted like Jolly Ranchers, a weird fruit flavor from a cup of something the nurse had me drink right before the surgery to decrease stomach acid. Because of the constant nausea and vomiting I wasn't even allowed to have ice chips anymore. Though I wasn't super hungry, I was so thirsty and longed for something to drink to help with the dry feeling in the back of my throat after vomiting so many times. My mom helped negotiate new nausea medicine for me with Nurse Tracy (she was kind but just very straightforward), and by the end of the day I was granted the ability to eat a regular diet. Nurse Jayda brought me water, some kind of juice that tasted amazing, and a cup of light snacks that included saltine crackers, graham crackers, vanilla pudding, and cherry Italian ice. Because the juice was already sweet, and because I didn't feel like having so much dessert, I opted for starting with the saltines and had the pudding a little later when I was less worried about my stomach being unsettled. When I was even more hungry in the middle of the night, Nurse Jayda tracked down the last turkey sandwich for me. She quickly became my favorite nurse, and I made sure to give her one of the thank you cards I'd brought with a Starbucks gift card inside.

We learned a new way to swaddle Baby 2 that was different from Baby 1, and despite baby's sleepy demeanor throughout the day, he woke up almost every 20 minutes at night. We cycled through nursing attempts, diaper checks (I got toes that first meconium poop!), swaddles, and passing baby back and forth in an attempt for Hubby and I to get some small amount of sleep at least. I told him my mom might be able to hold the baby while we napped a little the next day when she returned. Baby liked to be held more than set down in his bassinet. We also quickly learned how much he hated being cold (swaddles were his favorite thing, whereas Baby 1 couldn't wait to break free of them). Diaper changes and cold wipes caused him to scream. But once he was bundled, he was perfectly content.

The next day was a relief without the nausea and instead was a whirlwind of visitors to our hospital room--not actual visitors since we were only allowed Hubby and my mom, but visitors such as the follow up visit from an OB-GYN, follow up visit from a pediatrician, the hospital priest, the person who collects the bill, the newborn hearing screening tester, the hospital photographer, the birth certificate collector, the echocardiogram technician, the children's cardiologist, and our regular nurses.

I was excited to get the professional photos (I didn't think it would be offered during Covid times). I was worried at the fact that an echocardiogram was needed (supposedly just because I was over age 35, but the cardiologist also said Baby had a medium sized hole in his heart that was common and would probably close on it's own like small holes do, but he still wanted to see us in a couple of months to be sure. I was grateful for the hospital priest who was kind enough to understand that I hadn't been a practicing Catholic in years. I was disappointed to hear from the pediatrician that even though Baby was healthy and passing all tests, it was "standard procedure" to keep all c-section babies at least 48 hours before discharge. That meant that even though my doctor had assured me I would be ready to go home New Year's Eve night (as long as I could physically urinate and pass gas on my own post abdominal surgery), my son would not be ready to go until he'd spent at least one more night in the hospital due to rules I hadn't been aware of. I knew spending more than one night was a possibility given the c-section and the risks of complications with an early baby. But it felt like my hope of getting home to my firstborn sooner was being dashed for something arbitrary when we were both fine and healthy. Why was one extra night such a big deal? I'd never been away from my first son for more than one night, and that night had only just happened a few days prior. Now suddenly I would be away for two night in a row? What if this caused Baby 1 to worry that Mommy might never return? What if he longed for me in the middle of the night? Deep down I knew he would be okay. That he was safe with my in-laws and had many fun things to distract him, and soon he would be asleep and not notice our absence at all. But because he was too young to communicate all his potential feelings I still worried, and disappointment turned to anger. Hubby could tell the instant drop in my mood right before the hospital photographer was scheduled to return to take loving, happy photos of us with our new baby. And I was in tears.

As a compromise, Hubby said we could start sending photos of Baby 2 to our family and friends, something we had originally promised to wait on until Baby 1 met his brother in person. But as long as no one showed him the photos in advance or posted them to social media before me, he decided it would be okay to share. This was an immediate relief as I needed some way to get my emotion out. And despite my concerns for Baby 1, I was so eager and excited to introduce the world to my beautiful Baby 2.

I texted family some photos I had staged with a personalized blanket and announcement board before I knew that we'd be able to get professional photos as well. I texted my best friends and FaceTimed one of them. I crafted a social media post. And I continued to navigate the hospital room visitors in a slightly better mood. In fact, their moods rubbed off on me. I couldn't stay angry when the nurses, the photographer, even the birth certificate collector were so kind and patient and friendly toward us. We listened to the wave of information being told to us about follow up appointments and watched short videos required for discharge (newborn care, postpartum care, etc). The footage and narration felt like something out of the 80s, but the information conveyed seemed to be (mostly) up to date (one exception was the mention of caring for an episiotomy cuts, which my doctor said is rarely done during birth now and days). My mom double checked all the information I had written for filling out the birth certificate to ensure that I wouldn't have to correct any mistakes the time (a lot of pain and paperwork required a we learned with Baby 1 when I accidentally wrote down the state my son was born instead of the state the mother was born (me).

We had cheese omelets delivered by hospital staff for breakfast and a stake and shrimp celebratory lunch that was customary for after a baby was born. It included mini sparkling cider bottles (which I decided to save for "toasting" at midnight on New Year's Day), and cheesecake dessert, which the hospital staff member who delivered the meal said wasn't as good as the Nothing Bundt Cakes they used to have. I agreed (Nothing Bundt Cakes are the best), but the cheesecake was still very much welcome and devoured. I didn't think we'd get free dinner as well, but in the evening an enchilada meal was also delivered to us. And while I don't typically eat enchiladas (I prefer tacos, burritos, and tamale), I also devoured this one. I was hungry post-surgery now that I could finally eat normally!

I practiced walking down the hallway and even had my first shower (with the help of my mom) relieved that the pain removing the belly band I had received wasn't as bad as it had been with my first c-section when I attempted to shower for the first time. I had previously got to see Baby's first bath the time as Nurse Jayda wheeled a warming machine into our room and lovingly ran water over his head in our hospital room "kitchen" sink.

Later that evening Nurse Jayda returned and asked us what we had been expecting for discharge. I explained to her what we had been told about going home Friday night and what we were then told about standard procedure for c-section babies was two night (Nurse Tracy told us earlier that apparently every pediatrician had different "standards" so this was less a hospital policy and more the local pediatrician's call). Nurse Jayda, still my favorite, said, "What if I told you that two nights means as long as you've stayed past midnight, you can go home?"

I was ecstatic! We could stay until midnight like Cinderella, watch the New Year's fireworks from our window, and leave immediately after! Hubby reminded me that our firstborn would still be asleep and I knew he was right when he said I wouldn't want to wake him and pick him up from my in-law's just because I could. We decided to wait until after midnight, go home, settle in, and Hubby would pick up Baby 1 after breakfast. It would give us a chance to unpack and practice a night with the newborn at home and we would see Baby 1 shortly thereafter.

I agreed, reluctantly, as it all made sense, and Hubby said he would stay awake while we got in a couple of hours' nap before midnight. I awoke to Nurse Jayda making one last round before our discharge paperwork--at 11:55pm! Hubby was letting us get much needed rest, but I only had five minutes to prepare for New Year's Day. We had started packing earlier, but I still had on my hospital gown instead of real clothes. I didn't have time to set up any family pictures of us watching the fireworks. We almost forgot to kiss and toast at midnight, especially since Hubby's family had decided to do a FaceTime group video call at midnight (thankfully Baby 1 was in fact still asleep) so we showed off Baby 2 to the camera and wished everyone a Happy New Year. What a way to start the year!

I took a picture of Hubby holding Baby 2 by our beautiful firework view, and even though they were tiny in the background, you could still see the celebration. Baby 2 wore a "Party at My Crib: New Year's 2022" onesie that the hospital had given to all New Year's babies. I snapped a blurry picture and took a swig of sparkling apple cider, and then it was time to sign discharge paperwork and get our bags ready to go.

We did one last look around the hospital room as if it were a hotel we had just checked out of. Nurse Jayda was going to get us a trolley for our belongings, but realized we didn't have too much and offered to help carry our bags and push my discharge wheelchair. Hubby wouldn't let her do both, but appreciated her pushing me in the chair as Baby 2 rode in my lap, all settled into his brother's former car seat with a blanket over his body. He cried quite a bit, unlike with Baby 1's hospital departure (he slept through it!).

We were also relieved that Nurse Jayda had called a security guard to let us out through the main entrance to the hospital even though it had already closed. That meant we wouldn't have to travel through the Emergency Room to get to the ER exit and risk exposing baby to Covid or anything else. Instead, we got to take selfies in the elevator (Nurse Jayda then offered to take our picture for us) and to have one last look at the giant Christmas tree still up in the hospital lobby (Nurse Jayda also offered to take pictures of the three of us in front of the tree--she was the best!).

I apologized to Hubby for being "moody" about only having 5 minutes to prep for midnight and assured him it was a combination of hormones and lingering sadness about still not spending the holiday with Baby 1. But I was getting what I wanted. I would be going home much sooner, which meant seeing Baby 1 much sooner. And once again, the cheery mood of those around me (Nurse Jayda and a compassionate security guard) helped to lift my own and made our departure exciting and special as we were the only ones leaving the hospital that moment--quite possibly the first patients discharged in the new 2022 year.

The security guard helped keep us out of the cold of the double door entrance while Hubby brought our car around. Nurse Jayda waited with me and offered to even take a photo of Baby 2 by the Christmas tree since I couldn't yet lift his car seat and move him (I wanted to give her even more Starbucks gift cards--I appreciated everything so much!). Then she wheeled me out to our awaiting car and I hurried into the front seat while Hubby clicked Baby's car seat into place in the back. It was a chilly New Year's morning with wind blowing through us, but we were quick and protected this new and tiny member of our family who would be going with us and growing with us in the coming year and beyond.

What an experience! We will never forget the moments of Baby 2's arrival--just as exciting and nerve-wracking and ultimately rewarding a Baby 1's, and so very special as well. Baby 1 was extra special for being the first experience and making me a mother, but Baby 2 was extra special for completing our family. I look forward to continue blogging about both our boys here as I document our experiences and lives, trying my best to always be the mom I want to be.

(P.S. Baby 1 got to meet Baby 2 in the daylight on New Year's Day and was instantly enamored--I couldn't have imagined a more perfect meeting, just seeing my toddler grin and cry, "Baby!" as if truly understanding that he would be there to stay).