Two weeks ago, I was told I’d have my baby girl via caesarian section on Nov. 18 at 1:30 p.m. at 39 weeks. Very nice! I like things planned. I pushed the fact that she could come earlier to the back of my mind and kept on planning, preparing and dreaming for Nov. 18.
The day came (and she hadn’t) so things worked out, but this time around was very different than my scheduled induction and eventual c-section with Lincoln. I didn’t have to wait around all day for the inevitable (I told the doctor she was wasting everyone’s time inducing me with Linc.). There were no lengthy speeches of “this is what we’re going to do now…” It was more “this is it” and “here we go.” I wasn’t in labor, which made it a nicer experience and a WAY better time getting that needle in my back. (That, by the way, is smaller and delivers a different medicine than an epidural.)
They did all the prep work, got me into one of those sexy gowns and shower caps, and all the people responsible for baby and me making it through to the other side visited and got my autograph. After my doctor and I goofed around for a bit, and they put my husband in a green outfit that made him look like a hot doctor, we were ready to roll. Er, walk. I walked into the OR where they delivered my “spinal,” asked me a bunch of questions (I can’t remember), told me a bunch of stuff (I can’t remember), and started just before bringing in my husband.
I was warned the procedure may take longer than my last one (I don’t remember how long that one took) because of scar tissue from my appendectomy in September, but my doctor peeked over the curtain to tell me everything “looked beautiful in there.” Whatever scar tissue I had was not in the location they wanted to go. While they worked, the doctor and her assistant talked about Thanksgiving plans and family like they were out to lunch, which made me laugh and tell them they should be focusing more on me. I was kidding. It was really a nice time. My husband and I talked, and I listed to the doctors talk. It was way more chill than the first time.
I arrived at the hospital at 11:30 a.m., the OR was ready for me at 1:30 p.m. (my scheduled time), and baby girl was born at 2:04 p.m. to a crowd that called her “chunky” and an “aggressive crier.” (She sounded like a duck!) The final weigh in was 9 lbs, 2 oz, with a length of 21 inches, which made me tear up. I wanted another big baby and, after all we’d been through and with only a total weight gain of 19 lbs, I got her! I like me a big baby! They gave her to my husband and I was immediately surprised by how she looked EXACTLY like Lincoln when he was born.
We were wheeled into recovery where I got my bonding time (because we requested no visitors until the next day), started breast feeding, and regained feeling in my legs. They took me up to what would be my room for the next three nights, and Adam left to go get big brother from school. He had the very important job of naming his sister (from a list of suggestions, of course).
When he arrived, baby was crying and Linc looked terrified. He was probably half scared his sister was crying and half scared because mom was once again in the hospital hooked up to stuff. He quickly named her Reagan. Her middle name, Bea, is Adam’s great aunt’s name.
They boys hung out for a while, and Lincoln didn’t want to hold his sister at all (which was OK. He’ll have plenty of time.). Adam took Linc to Linc’s “girlfriend’s” house where our dear, dear friends would keep him until I was released on Thursday.
My recovery is going great and Reagan is so super cute!! Any fears I had were (as usual) were unfounded and things were smooth for our first night at home.
It’s very weird to have another kid, but while we were watching TV last night and my husband was cuddling with Linc and I was cuddling with Reagan, I realized we needed two kids. One of us (usually him) was always left out during cuddle time.
Thank you all at Pittsburgh Mom for your help and advice during my pregnancy.