Birth of a Rainbow (Baby)

I've been meaning to sit down and write about this day for about a month now. I know it's what helps me process all the shitty emotions that I hate talking about. After all, that's why I write to begin with. Anyway, I've been meaning to sit down and write through that day but I hesitated for a couple reasons. First is it was a really emotional day and not really in a pleasant way. Which brings me to my second point. I don't want to sound ungrateful. Teddy is here and he's healthy and that's amazing and I am so, so incredibly grateful. But it was hard. It was really, really hard and I had to face a lot of demons that I didn't realize I would have to face.

Maybe I was being naive. Okay, I was definitely being naive. But I really thought we'd get to the hospital, hear a good, strong heartbeat and the rest would be easy, happy, celebratory. It didn't work that way. Not even a little bit.

We got to the hospital bright and early and got checked into my room. The nurses started process with the long list of questions and starting iv's. And let me just pause here to say how amazing the nursing staff is at Sherman hospital. They are amazing. You will not find a better staff anywhere. Since my last trimester was a rough one, I had already spent a great deal of time at the birthing center and the nurses knew our background. Most remembered us from that awful day just a year and a half before. They took great care of us.

The surgery time rolled around and the hunt was on for my doctor. I was started to get anxious but hey, I was about to have surgery,  I WAS ABOUT TO HAVE  A BABY! Who wouldn't be nervous? He finally arrived (Star Wars surgical cap and all) and we walked down to the operating room. Stepping in I caught my breath, Was this the room I had Hannah in? OMG was I in the same room? I couldn't tell because all the OB ORs look EXACTLY the same. Whether or not it was the same room I will never know, but it felt the same. I started breathing hard.

The anesthesiologist came in. Oh God, she almost killed me when I was having Hannah. Okay, not literally, but it felt like it. Panic rose, remembering stab after stab in my spine and pain radiating from head to toe over and over again. "Breath Sarah, just breath" I told myself over and over. I sat down on the edge of the table and the OR nurse handed me a pillow to hold on to while I got my spinal. Sherry, my doctors assistant whom I'd been seeing at almost all my prenatal visits, took one look at me, took the pillow away and told me to just hang on to her.

Only one misfire on the spinal and then were were good to go. I laid back, the curtain went up and I lost my shit.

"I can't do this" I whispered.

"I can't do this" I said a little louder this time. "You've got this Sarah" Sherry reassured me. The room started started spinning, my stomach started churning, my chest tightened. "No, I really can't do this." I could feel the tears coming. Then the vomiting started. "Just breath" I whispered to myself, channeling every prenatal class I went to. I slowly started to calm down. Brent came in the room at some point and the surgery was underway, but I have no idea how much time had passed by now. I was still spinning.

Eventually the nurses started calling for a camera and someone ran to get Brent's phone. People were chattering away, the excitement in the room was rising but I was totally separate from it. I felt adrift and on my own in a room full of happy people. I felt lost.

"Here he is!" the doctor said and held a purple, wrinkly bundle up over the curtain. "Is that him? Why wasn't he crying. Oh good, there is a cry. He must be ok." These thoughts were rolling through my mind as I struggled to feel involved. Suddenly all I could hear was the doctors voice "Look at this knot. Look, the cord has a huge knot in it." Oh my God, what? A knot? That's bad, that's really bad. "It's huge, come look at this. Dad come here to cut the cord. Look at that knot. See how tight it is." I. Can't. Breath. "Look how tight this is. This is incredible. This is a true knot." Shut up, shut up, shut up. "Jeez, do you all see this?"

The next thing I know Teddy is being put on my chest for skin to skin, Realistically I know he's fine, But all I can hear is the word knot over and over and I kept (irrationally) thinking "It's happening again. Another baby, another cord accident. I can't do this, I can't do this." I was struggling to breath and my arms felt weak. "Take him! Take him off me, I'm going to drop him" I shrieked at the nurses and Brent.

I wasn't going to drop him. I just couldn't hold him. After all the months of worry and hope,  I couldn't even hold him. It was all too much. I was too overwhelmed.

The rest is a blur. Teddy had to go to the NICU for some breathing issues, but was back in my room at some point that day but I have no idea when. I continued to throw up in the OR, in recovery, in my room. When I wasn't getting sick I was sleeping. When I wasn't sleeping I was in a fog. I shut down. People were coming in and out trying to talk to me. I could hear my phone chiming over and over with calls and messages but I never looked at it. I was basically non-functional. If anyone tried to talk to me, I just closed my eyes. I couldn't deal. It was all too much. It was too heavy on my heart. I was reliving all the grief and pain of a year and a half ago.

The next day I was functioning again. Returning calls and messages, thanking the nurses for fielding anxious phone calls from friends who were waiting to hear how we were doing. My doctor came by late at night to do Teddy's circumcision (complete with Jewish blessing) and he was the first to utter the words "post traumatic stress" and to my dismay, I can't say he was wrong. I wanted to handle this gracefully. I wanted to be in control and handle it well, with peace and calm. That didn't happen. It wasn't even close. But we go through it somehow and while ever milestone Teddy hits reminds me that Hannah won't, I am still so incredibly grateful that he's here and he's okay and someday we will be okay too.