Another Change of Plans…
The midwife came in a few minutes later to see me and gave me a similar talk to what the nurse had previously told me. She informed me that the signs weren’t looking good and she was afraid that it was only a matter of time before we would be forced into doing an emergency C-section. This would mean being completely put under and Jason would not be allowed to be there when the baby was born. “Talk to me,” she said. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”
Immediately I started choking back the tears again. This wasn’t how I wanted it to go… But I told the midwife that we had a breech scare earlier in the pregnancy and I had prepared myself for the possibility of a C-section. At the end of the day, I wanted to make sure that the baby was healthy and that was my first priority before considering all of my other plans. So she called the doctor who would perform the surgery…
I asked who the OB on call was… and was told it was the male doctor of the practice. “Oh man,” I thought. “I am soooo not comfortable having a male doctor.” I groaned and asked the midwife and nurse if it was possible to have MY doctor come in. They said she was scheduled to come in later that day and that we could wait for her… but it could also mean gambling on how the baby’s health would be by that time. I reassured myself that what was most important was the baby’s health. We want a happy, healthy baby and laughed as I said, “Ha! Well… at least it’s not a vaginal birth…” The nurse smiled at me sweetly. “That’s true!”
The doctor came in and gave me the same speech on how he truly believed we were looking at an emergency c section on our hands if we waited. “All we need is one more sign that this baby is going into distress….” And with a little nod from me, the anesthesiologist was called back in to get ready to up the epidural. Jason was given his scrubs and my gown was lifted so the doctor could sign my belly. (And I’m still unsure why this is standard protocol! Took me DAYS to wash that signature off!!)
As I was wheeled off to the operating room (laying on my side – as they were afraid of the heart rate dropping again), Jason was told he had to wait in another room. I begged that he stay with me… I was sure I’d be headed to another panic attack if he left my side. No, they told me, he has to stay out of the operating room until they were completely set up. I gave myself yet another pep talk….
In the operating room, they were about to transfer me to the operating table. I panicked and said, “I can’t be on my back! The baby’s heart rate will drop!!!”
“Don’t worry – we spoke to the nurse about it and we’ll put a wedge up until the very last moment.” I relaxed a bit then… “Now, can you move over to the operating table at all?” I told them I wasn’t sure, but somehow I was able to garner up enough strength through the epidural numbness to scoot over to the operating table, needing only a little bit of help getting my legs situated into the right spot. I was proud of myself!
The blue screen went up and I remember the nurses talking about the clear diet I’d be having after the surgery. “Wine is clear, right?” I heard one of the nurses say… and the rest laughed. Well, it was reassuring to have some light hearted nurses on staff. Serious nurses would make me worry. Then I was introduced to 2 different anesthesiologists who would be there during the surgery. I made fun of one of their colorful hats, commenting that he was the only one wearing anything but plain blue scrubs in the operating room. He quickly caught on to my nervousness and started teasing back. At that point he started testing the epidural to see if I felt anything. “Feel that?” “Nope” “How about that?” “Nope.” “Excellent”. While one of the anesthesiologists was attending to something else, the funny one started telling me what was going to happen. I looked at him and told, “Don’t tell me anything. I don’t want to know.” He looked back at me, got the picture and said, “Okay, I’ll just let you know when they’re pulling the baby out.” I was extremely grateful for his understanding.