I had many titles for this post:
"Gimme a C"
"C is for C-section"
"Gut me like a Fish"
"Bucket O' Blood"
And the list went on, alluding to the surgical procedure that I dreaded, but turned out not to be so bad. While, I hadn't envisioned having a c-section, I will admit that when they pulled my giant baby out of me, I was more than grateful for following my doctor's advice and for the spinal that turned the lower half of my body into a big bowl of orange jello. And they pulled out my baby Hoat Tote, all 8#10oz of her. The anesthesiologist, who photographed the entire procedure, even brought over a mirror so I could witness the actual "birth." By "birth," I mean the moment when the doctors pulled HT from my body. I saw my stomach folded up, like a large tent made of my own skin. In a word, GROSS! And then I saw the doctors pull HT from my abdomen, and from my vantage point, she looked enormous. I think all my lady parts breathed a giant sigh of relief that HT did not arrive the ol' fashioned way!
Going into the hospital at a specified time and knowing that your child will be in your arms between 1:00PM and 1:45PM is a very odd feeling. It definitely appealed to the planner in me, but I did feel slightly robbed of the drama of having surprise labor (something I missed with Bean too). Those doctors were certainly accurate! HT was getting cleaned up at 1:43 on the nose! Well done technology and efficient health care! Well done! I was afraid that it would feel anti-climactic, waiting 9 months for this baby and then boom, here she is! No water breaking. No drama. No contractions. No debates over epidurals or lamaze breathing. I will say this, it was downright civilized! I'd even call the whole experience pleasant. And really, it doesn't matter how the baby gets here because I soon as they pulled HT out and placed her on my chest, I was smitten.
There are many things that struck me as funny during the whole procedure. Hearing the doctors talk about the wraps in the cafeteria for lunch struck me as funny. Hearing the same doctors talk about cutting more or just stretching my insides was frightening and yuck. Hearing them talk about getting a vacuum and finding the cord wrapped around HT's neck terrified me. Also, hearing someone's easy listening Ipod made the event that much more surreal. While HT was getting yanked from my body, a song about Thunder was playing which made everyone laugh because Bean also started calling HT "Thunder" as the her impending birth drew closer. And while, I was certainly heavily sedated from a plethora of narcotics, Joni Mitchell's "The Circle Game was played at the very end of the procedure which was a favorite camp song of mine. Everything in that moment; the swaddled baby on my neck/chest area, the big, fat tears rolling down my face, and my hand outstretched to J seemed perfect.
We are all smitten my HT. While we obviously chose a legal name other than HT, I'm afraid to say that HT is what we call her 70% of the time. I have to catch myself from introducing her to others as such.
And really, it doesn't matter what we call her because we all adore her. From her little hands, right down to her sizable toes, she has captured everybody's heart and completed our little family.