From the minute I knew I was pregnant, I also knew that surgery at 13 weeks would be imminent. It's just part of the deal for me. If I want to make it past 20 weeks, I have to have a cervical cerclage. And so, the date was set a couple of weeks ago and I knew it was coming. I put it out of my mind, which wasn't difficult since we've all been so busy getting the boys back to school. There has been plenty to distract me right up until the day prior to surgery which was the first day of kindergarten for my 5 year old, Beck. That day is always an emotional milestone day for me...my baby growing up and being gone all day long is an adjustment for both of us. Only that night after the kids were in bed did it really start to sink in that in less than 12 hours I'd be done with my surgery.
Corey's brother Adam saved the day by coming over in the wee hours of morning (literally...around 4:45) so he could get my boys off to school. I felt an extra twinge of guilt when on my way out I handed him a bottle of hairspray and sheepishly asked him to try to do the boy's hair, or to just flatten it out with some water. I'd forgotten about that small detail, but then again, little boys go to school with crazy I-just-woke-up-and-came hair all the time so I wasn't too worried. In the end, Asher said he sported a fauxhalk and was happy. Bless Adam's generous lil' heart for even trying. Honestly though, knowing they were in good hands for the morning was a huge load off.
Check in time was at 5:30 at the hospital, and after that was the usual waiting game from the lower level that has zero windows. Enter the time warp that is the hospital. Each stage is similar, but is punctuated with a big event, first they check you in and you get to wear the drape with holes everywhere that might be convenient for some type of tubing, next you get an IV, then you meet the anesthesiologist (who doesn't reappear again until it's time to poke you), then you wait a little more and might meet another nurse who will be with you for 30 more minutes, next there is talk of it being time to wheel you back at which point you tell them you are taking one more potty break for comfort's sake since you KNOW it'll be a ridiculous amount of time until you can actually do that again. And there it is...the time to go back for the big event. Cozy warm blankets get piled on as they wheel you down one cold hallway after another and finally put you into a room with silver walls and big floodlights. You get the big shot, they warm you up some more and then while the stuff is sending tingling sensations through your lower half you get to put your feet into 'the candy cane stirrups'(what a happy name for something that puts you in the most awkward position of your life). Then its a few tugs and pulls and twinges and voila...the dr. says we're done. The whole thing takes about ten minutes! That is the awesome part.
What is not so awesome is what comes next. More waiting. Waiting for the anesthesia to ease it's way out of my system which for some reason always takes eons longer than promised. My anesthesiologist, who was by the way very nice and did a great job, assured me that he didn't give me too much and that I'd be un-numb in an hour forty five. Tops. Once I could fully wiggle my toes, I got to graduate from the post op area with all of it's incessant monitor beeping to the upstairs short term care area with a lounger and Corey too. I was very sore and couldn't quite stand yet, but was using all the positive juice I had and just knew it couldn't be long til all my feeling was back! Wrong again. First of all, they won't let you leave until you can pee, second of all, you are way too numb to pee. To cut to the chase, I waited a total of SEVEN hours form the time I received the anesthetic until the minute I was able to leave. People in waiting areas next to mine came and went. In my pregnant state, complete with an aching abdomen, the need to eat a meal not just more ice chips and soda, and the stress of my boys needing to be picked up from school clear across town, I was close to tears. It all worked out ok, but barely, and I mean we had exactly ten minutes to spare.
Phew! It's over now and baby boy Reitz if safely stitched in. Even after all of my whining and reluctance to embrace the surgery, it is all worth it, every second.
But I am glad it's done.
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6 years ago