I've been thinking about you guys. I've shared so much with you since the moment I found out we were expecting a little one that I think it is not only fair but necessary that I write about the experience of his arrival.
I think I should start by mentioning one more time that I did not think that I would survive the surgery. Again, I wasn't concerned about dying. I was concerned about Pip not having a mama. It had nothing to do with the competency of the doctors but rather the overwhelming and obvious fact that I am a medical mystery and no one was really sure what do to with me. This was proven true by the end of the afternoon but I'll get to that.
I was hardly able to sleep the night before. How in the world can someone sleep knowing their lives are going to change dramatically the next day. I don't want to call it "Dooms Day" because that is not the appropriate title for it, but at the time I felt like Pip and I weren't able to both survive and I just remember thinking to myself, "If just one of us survives, please let it be Pip." Although I felt it the whole time, the morning of the 12th I think I finally understood how my mother must have felt all of those years I spent in the hospital because all that ran through my head was "please just let him be okay." I was cashing in every chip and waiting for, no counting on, my ship to come in. Anything that I thought Karma, God, the Universe may have owed me for all of my good deeds I was bringing up because if I ever wanted to be paid back for all of the good things I've done, it was that day to make sure Pip was okay. I even clutched a rosary blessed by the Pope and a wooden cross, that has a story behind it but I can't remember what it is. I think at some point I even muttered a prayer.
Naturally, Lolly and I argued the whole way to the hospital. I'd like to say it was nerves but we argue over each other's driving all of the time. I drive too fast; she drives like a madman. It was comedic, if it was anything at all. At that point my nerves were shot but that was nothing compared to what the next few hours would hold.
It was weird. The whole getting to the hospital process - parking and registering. I remember closing my car door and thinking that it might be the last time I saw my car. Silly, I know. Registering was interesting because the lady who checked me in acted like I had no reason to be there. Then, of course, Dann had to use the restroom and tried to leave during registration. It's a wonder how he survived those nine months! Once I registered, I had to go register, again. As I mentioned my nerves were shot and I had no patience to repeat myself. I have this thing - I will not respond to someone who hasn't heard me after the third time. So by this point in time I was completely finished with giving my information. Thankfully Debbie was there so she gave it all. Three more times.
It was time to go into the pre-op room which meant it was time for my mom to go in the waiting room. If you thought I had problems letting go of my car then you can imagine the mess that was going on in my own head when my mom was told to go away.
But, then as we were all walking to the pre-op room, a wonderfully happy lady came bouncing out of a door and said "Are you Lisa?" to my mother. My mother said, "No. I'm Debbie." As she was saying that that wonderfully happy lady looked at me and said, "Autumn," looked at my mother and said, "Your husband is Buddy? I took care of Autumn when she was a baby at CMC. I'm Marie. I'm going to be with Autumn the whole time." My mom immediately remembered her and was so excited to see Marie that she didn't even have a snarky comment about Buddy. Marie then went to say that she "fought" to be in my surgery because she couldn't believe I made it this far. Marie was going to be my nurse anesthesiologist.
Now, as you know, I don't believe in much, but I do believe in signs. The fact that Marie, who I didn't know from Adam, knew me back when I was a baby and then she was here to help my baby bounce into the world was a little overwhelming for my poor heart. I saw my mom get tears in her eyes, as if we were thinking the same thing, and I started to cry. I thought for sure this is a sign that at least Pip would be okay. Marie was so very nice that she even convinced the not-so-lovely nurse to let my mom stay in the pre-op room until another patient came in, if another patient was coming in. This was such a relief because, it doesn't matter how old you are, when crap is about to go down, you want your mom there. It really worked out because she was able to tell the nurse information that I still didn't know.
And then the not-so-lovely nurse decided that she was going to try to put the IV in me. My veins are terrible and although I begged and pleaded for her to use a small needle, even a pediatric one, she didn't want to listen. She tried twice and then called someone in. The new someone tried again, with the same size needle, she got it in but then a valve blew and apparently blood went everywhere. My eyes were closed because I cannot handle watching blood go out. It was very good that my mom was there for this because by this time I was in pain and my first instinct is always to bring my legs to my belly. At some point, I just felt someone hold my leg and I knew it was my mom because she is the only one who knows that I do this from all of my trips to the dentist. This new lady, who was very nice by the way, was so upset that she didn't want to try again. I mean I was crying by this point, which you probably would be, too, if you were stuck that many times. Then the original nurse thought she'd have another look at my arm while the other nurse went to get Marie to do the IV. I actually said, "Please just wait." She didn't listen and she stuck me again, in my wrist, and my vein blew, again. Then she decided to wait. The fifth time was the charm and whoever the nurse was, I think it was the second lady actually, got the IV to go in and the vein to not blow, but they couldn't get blood to come out for the labs. This meant one more time for a needle. It doesn't matter how many tattoos I have, I absolutely hate needles. Between the last bad and successful IV attempts another patient came in and my mom had to leave. This was fine because my brother was on the way and it would be dumb for him to sit in the waiting room alone. As she was leaving she told me she loved me and I said I loved her and that was that. And I couldn't help but think, "That was that? 29 years and that is it for my mom and me?" She walked out with my bags and she smiled. It was a peaceful smile, a confident one. I couldn't help but to let fear creep back in though.
It was right before they finally got the IV when my heart strings started to come undone. My back was starting to kill me, remember the back pain that I had (and still have)? Well, I was laying on my back for a good hour already so I asked nicely if could please sit up for the last attempt. I was sitting up for a few minutes and they were starting to try to get another vein for this blasted IV and I see my mom in the doorway and then my brother steps in behind her. My mom played some story asking Dann if she left one of our bags back there but it was really so Corey could come back and see me. Or maybe so I knew he was there. It was very important that to me that he was there because if anything went wrong, I left it up to him to call the shots and not leave me to be a vegetable. I am not sure if all of you know this but Corey has been my go-to-guy for as long as I can remember. I know that when he is involved nothing bad, short of out of his control, will happen. He's been my protector since 1984 so when I saw him in the doorway I was relieved, and terrified. I am sure he didn't mean it and I could even be imagining it but I haven't seen the look that he had in his eyes since I was hospitalized when I was 12(ish). He could tell I was terrified. I could tell he was nervous and scared. This was out of his control and it was at that moment that we, or at least I, really realized it. I was left to the doctors, who didn't know me like Corey did/does, and we both had no say at what was happening from this point on. He came in the room, mid IV placing, didn't care what the nurses said (neither did I) and gave me a kiss on the cheek and told me, "Good luck. Love you," and went back to my mom. As they walked away my mom said she loved me and Corey said, "See ya later, A" and that was that. Again. That was that. The not-so-nice nurse said, "Was that your brother?" "Yes," I said and just broke down in tears. I didn't even notice the needle go in that time. I saw how scared he was. He doesn't get scared, or he doesn't show it. Crap. We both knew that this was a mess that neither one of us could get me out of. That hardly happens.
A few minutes went by and the lady from the lab came up to draw blood. I looked at her, with tears in my eyes and said, "Please use a butterfly." And she did. And it worked. I really had to pee by this point. But they wouldn't let me. They were preparing to put the catheter in. That was sort of awful. I mean it wasn't the worst bit but it did stink. What made it worse was at that moment the anesthesiologist and the OB came in and introduced themselves. Well, the anesthesiologist, Dr. Klein, introduced himself. I already knew the OB, obviously, and we all know I adore him so getting the catheter put in as he was walking in was a bit embarrassing Dann didn't even roll his eyes at that point, then again I think Dann was as terrified as I was. Dr. Klein was very nice. I'll write more about him in a bit and Dr. Drozdick reminded me that pretty soon I could eat all of the Froot Loops I wanted. He cut me off of them about three weeks before Pip was born. I still ate them though. I told him I cut back, which I did - instead of two or three bowls a day, I had one. :)
Before I knew it Marie was back in the room telling me what the next steps were. They handed Dann the scrubs to get changed and said that as soon as I was settled!with the spinal, they would come back and let Dann in the room. We were so nervous. I was so nervous. After Dann got changed, he just looked like a different person. An older person, like the last two hours aged him ten years. (He was still handsome though.) He sat down by my bed and grabbed my hand and I found myself in tears again. I don't know if it was all the stress from the nine months but everything got to me. Whether it was Dann needing to use the restroom again or the absence of one of my friends in the last nine months or the fact that I was now peeing into a bag and my curls fell out of my hair, I can't be sure. I did know one thing: I was sobbing again.
Marie and the not-so-nice nurse came in and said it was time to go into the OR. Jesus. I still don't know how I just didn't explode out of fear. I think about these next few minutes every day. Each day another part comes to my memory. In fact, I just realized, nearly one whole month later, that I didn't get a kiss from Dann before I went in the room. Dr. Klein was speaking to him. I remember asking Marie to tell my mother the second everything was okay and telling Dann that I would see him in a minute. Never thought about a kiss.
I think this is where my PTSD would kick in, if I had it. I am now too tired for anything short of nursing a baby so PTSD just doesn't fit in my schedule at the moment. I know that I shouldn't have expected the operating room to look anything like they do on TV, but this one looked nothing like any of them do on TV! It was very small and bright. The bed was very tiny. Not like I was rolling over anyway but if I wanted to I couldn't. I'd roll right off and that would be awkward with a million tubes sticking out of me. Dr. Drozdick was waiting off to the side until Dr. Klein gave him the go ahead. I only knew him, Marie, and not-so-nice nurse. I focused on him until Marie came back around, which was a matter of moments. Marie explained to me what was going to happen one more time before they started the process. Some lady that I didn't see before was the one who was going to hold me in place while they put the needle in my spine but I distinctly remember Marie telling her that she would do it and that lady could do something else. They put the oxygen on me. At this point I could tell you that I was more than terrified I never felt so stuck in my life. And what was I going to do? The baby had to come out. I certainly couldn't waltz around pregnant forever.
I heard Dr. Klein tell Marie that he was ready. She told me that I had to put my chin to my chest and curl so my spine was, you know, out. I had a purple stress ball - that really made it all the way into the OR with me- that I was squeezing. Let me tell you, that stress ball did nothing when that needle was going into my spine. Marie told me to hold her hand and to put my head on her shoulder. The fact that I had someone hugging me at that moment is something I will forever be grateful for. I don't know if I ever needed a hug so badly before this moment. I didn't expect it to hurt that much because I have had a spinal tap before and that didn't hurt. I now realize that when I had that spinal tap I already had morphine in me. Definitely explains why it didn't hurt. Anyway, the plan was for Dr. Klein to give me a small dose of whatever was in the needle first (it wasn't an epidural) and hopefully that would be enough. Once Dr. K put the needle in, they had to move me quickly and lay me down, so the medicine would work. So they laid me down and waited. And waited. The only place that I felt the medicine work was my feet. My feet were not being sliced open that day so that made things really inconvenient. Dr. Drozdick told me that he was just going to poke at my stomach and see what I felt. What I felt was not nice. So up they put me to do another spinal.
I was squeezing that stress ball as if it were a lifeline and just waiting for Dann to come in. Some kid from the medical college had to hold me for a minute while Marie did something. I remember telling him, "please don't let me fall." He asked me how my day was going, with a smirk which I appreciated. I told him I was terrified and he told me not to worry. Marie then came back. This one didn't hurt as much but I still felt it.They laid me back down faster that time. Dr. Klein told me that this one should work and that they would give it a few more minutes. I started to get really scared at this point because I knew what was going to happen if it didn't work that time. They were going to knock me out and that was that. Again. That was that. Dr. Klein held my hand while we waited. That is when I realized I really had a stress ball in the OR with me. I apologized to everyone for bringing it in and they laughed at me. Silly girl. That stress ball is that least of our problems right now.
Dr. Klein told me that they were just going to wait a few minutes longer and I remember telling him to wait because I can feel my body getting heavier. Please wait. I started to cry a bit harder now. Marie asked me why I was crying. Oh, yeah, she stayed up by my head the whole time and told someone else what do to so I wouldn't be alone while waiting for the medicine to kick in and for Dann to come in. As I was saying, she asked me why I was crying and I said because I don't want to be put under. She said we won't put you under but at the same time I heard Dr. Klein tell someone, "I wouldn't do that with her," "we can't use that on her," "don't do that." So I was freaking out. Dr. Drozdick told me that he was just going to do a "test slice" to see what I was actually feeling. I felt him touch my stomach on the left side and by the time he got to the right I was actually able to feel the cut. I tried to be quiet about it. If I could fake it then I could stay awake. Marie saw my face, as did Dr. Klein. They immediately told Dr. Drozdick to stop. I heard something about getting "it" ready to put in the IV. Marie told me that I was going to feel a burning in my arm but it would only be for a little while. I hoped it was a stronger medicine (I know that it makes no sense for them to put it in my arm but I wasn't thinking clearly). But I knew. I knew they were putting me out and I sobbed. I wasn't even going to meet this baby that I grew for nine months. I wasn't going to see my mom or Dann again. Or Jacob, whom I have been telling for months that I love him from here to heaven. Or anyone. Levi wouldn't remember me. My friends and family were all waiting in a room to meet the baby and they were going to be greeted with bad news. Poor Dann was still out in the hallway. I was never going to meet Pip. Ever. I was never so sad in my life. Pip.
And then the burning in my arm started.
And then I felt like I was suffocating.
The best way I can describe it is like I was indeed falling down the rabbit hole. It was almost like I was spinning and my chest was so heavy I couldn't breathe. Even as that was happening, which I am sure wasn't for long, I remember willing myself to fight to stay awake so I can at least see the baby. Just once, let me see him.
Apparently I am more philosophical than I think. My dream while I was out was nothing short of hysterical. For those of you who are Harry Potter fans, pay attention. My dream was at King's Cross Station but all white like when Dumbledore and Harry are there talking about what Harry should do next. (I dream of Harry Potter?? Really? Not something that I am obsessed with but something Dann is obsessed with?!) Everything was white except for the platform signs. They were black with white numbers. I could only see numbers three and four. There were no humans around. It was just all white. Then before I knew it. I was heavy and spinning again. It felt like I was trying to catch my breath but my mind couldn't figure anything out. The spinning was constant and hard. Uncomfortable. It was like my existence was just to spin. I questioned the existence of human beings. I remember thinking, "maybe I was just dreaming of being human. Maybe this is existence and I am just going to spin forever." Then I rebutted that with the defense that if there were no humans then I wouldn't know words. Somehow, my knowledge that humans can think because we know words came through.
My eyelids were heavy as I tried to open them. My head was turned to the left. I kept forcing them open but they would close back to the spinning and back to King's Cross Station. Eventually I was able to keep them open long enough for my eyes to somewhat focus on Marie. But I told myself I couldn't trust that being real because I didn't know her long enough. I couldn't turn my head. I remember opening my eyes to her three times at least. It was also when I was looking at her that I could feel myself talking. By feel I mean the vibrations of my vocal cords, if that makes sense. I don't know what I was saying. Dann told me it was mostly "Ow." However, it was because I felt myself speaking that I knew I could turn my head.
And there he was holding my hand. He was dressed in scrubs. I could trust this sight. If I wasn't a human or wasn't alive, he wouldn't be wearing scrubs. He'd be wearing a God awful Star Wars shirt.
"Dann?"
"Blue," he said.
"Am I alive?"
"Yes, you're alive."
"Is Pip alive?"
"Yes, he's alive."
"We both made it?"
"Yes, you both made it."
I smiled. Then I began to hear background noises. Nurses, beeps, and chaos. I heard a tiny little cry. Almost like a lamb. It was a beautiful sound. The most wonderful noise I have ever heard in my life.
There are moments that change you slightly or greatly. Moments that are so clear you can remember them for years afterwards. But then there are moments that once you live them, your life will never be the same. Moments that make you realize what you're doing here on earth. There are moments that just give you life to your existence.
I saw his toes first. Red and attached to kicking feet. Kicking feet that were attached to kicking legs. His legs were moving faster than mine ever did. His, what I thought to be big then, belly. His arms were flying all over the place. His little mouth wailing, no, singing the most gorgeous love song I have ever heard. His eyes, barely open, but I saw them. "Pip," I said quietly. And it was at that moment that I realized that I was made for this little guy. My whole existence, every stumble, laugh, and tear along the way was all a part of a greater scheme to get me to bring this perfect little person into the world.
I couldn't move. I was under a warming blanket and I was still so heavy. A nurse picked him up. She stepped towards me with this little piece of perfection and laid him on my chest. I kissed him, "Hi, baby," I said softly. He stole my heart. I have been head over heels in love with him from the moment I saw him.
I am the luckiest girl alive to have him as my son.
I heard Dr. Klein tell Marie that he was ready. She told me that I had to put my chin to my chest and curl so my spine was, you know, out. I had a purple stress ball - that really made it all the way into the OR with me- that I was squeezing. Let me tell you, that stress ball did nothing when that needle was going into my spine. Marie told me to hold her hand and to put my head on her shoulder. The fact that I had someone hugging me at that moment is something I will forever be grateful for. I don't know if I ever needed a hug so badly before this moment. I didn't expect it to hurt that much because I have had a spinal tap before and that didn't hurt. I now realize that when I had that spinal tap I already had morphine in me. Definitely explains why it didn't hurt. Anyway, the plan was for Dr. Klein to give me a small dose of whatever was in the needle first (it wasn't an epidural) and hopefully that would be enough. Once Dr. K put the needle in, they had to move me quickly and lay me down, so the medicine would work. So they laid me down and waited. And waited. The only place that I felt the medicine work was my feet. My feet were not being sliced open that day so that made things really inconvenient. Dr. Drozdick told me that he was just going to poke at my stomach and see what I felt. What I felt was not nice. So up they put me to do another spinal.
I was squeezing that stress ball as if it were a lifeline and just waiting for Dann to come in. Some kid from the medical college had to hold me for a minute while Marie did something. I remember telling him, "please don't let me fall." He asked me how my day was going, with a smirk which I appreciated. I told him I was terrified and he told me not to worry. Marie then came back. This one didn't hurt as much but I still felt it.They laid me back down faster that time. Dr. Klein told me that this one should work and that they would give it a few more minutes. I started to get really scared at this point because I knew what was going to happen if it didn't work that time. They were going to knock me out and that was that. Again. That was that. Dr. Klein held my hand while we waited. That is when I realized I really had a stress ball in the OR with me. I apologized to everyone for bringing it in and they laughed at me. Silly girl. That stress ball is that least of our problems right now.
Dr. Klein told me that they were just going to wait a few minutes longer and I remember telling him to wait because I can feel my body getting heavier. Please wait. I started to cry a bit harder now. Marie asked me why I was crying. Oh, yeah, she stayed up by my head the whole time and told someone else what do to so I wouldn't be alone while waiting for the medicine to kick in and for Dann to come in. As I was saying, she asked me why I was crying and I said because I don't want to be put under. She said we won't put you under but at the same time I heard Dr. Klein tell someone, "I wouldn't do that with her," "we can't use that on her," "don't do that." So I was freaking out. Dr. Drozdick told me that he was just going to do a "test slice" to see what I was actually feeling. I felt him touch my stomach on the left side and by the time he got to the right I was actually able to feel the cut. I tried to be quiet about it. If I could fake it then I could stay awake. Marie saw my face, as did Dr. Klein. They immediately told Dr. Drozdick to stop. I heard something about getting "it" ready to put in the IV. Marie told me that I was going to feel a burning in my arm but it would only be for a little while. I hoped it was a stronger medicine (I know that it makes no sense for them to put it in my arm but I wasn't thinking clearly). But I knew. I knew they were putting me out and I sobbed. I wasn't even going to meet this baby that I grew for nine months. I wasn't going to see my mom or Dann again. Or Jacob, whom I have been telling for months that I love him from here to heaven. Or anyone. Levi wouldn't remember me. My friends and family were all waiting in a room to meet the baby and they were going to be greeted with bad news. Poor Dann was still out in the hallway. I was never going to meet Pip. Ever. I was never so sad in my life. Pip.
And then the burning in my arm started.
And then I felt like I was suffocating.
The best way I can describe it is like I was indeed falling down the rabbit hole. It was almost like I was spinning and my chest was so heavy I couldn't breathe. Even as that was happening, which I am sure wasn't for long, I remember willing myself to fight to stay awake so I can at least see the baby. Just once, let me see him.
Apparently I am more philosophical than I think. My dream while I was out was nothing short of hysterical. For those of you who are Harry Potter fans, pay attention. My dream was at King's Cross Station but all white like when Dumbledore and Harry are there talking about what Harry should do next. (I dream of Harry Potter?? Really? Not something that I am obsessed with but something Dann is obsessed with?!) Everything was white except for the platform signs. They were black with white numbers. I could only see numbers three and four. There were no humans around. It was just all white. Then before I knew it. I was heavy and spinning again. It felt like I was trying to catch my breath but my mind couldn't figure anything out. The spinning was constant and hard. Uncomfortable. It was like my existence was just to spin. I questioned the existence of human beings. I remember thinking, "maybe I was just dreaming of being human. Maybe this is existence and I am just going to spin forever." Then I rebutted that with the defense that if there were no humans then I wouldn't know words. Somehow, my knowledge that humans can think because we know words came through.
My eyelids were heavy as I tried to open them. My head was turned to the left. I kept forcing them open but they would close back to the spinning and back to King's Cross Station. Eventually I was able to keep them open long enough for my eyes to somewhat focus on Marie. But I told myself I couldn't trust that being real because I didn't know her long enough. I couldn't turn my head. I remember opening my eyes to her three times at least. It was also when I was looking at her that I could feel myself talking. By feel I mean the vibrations of my vocal cords, if that makes sense. I don't know what I was saying. Dann told me it was mostly "Ow." However, it was because I felt myself speaking that I knew I could turn my head.
And there he was holding my hand. He was dressed in scrubs. I could trust this sight. If I wasn't a human or wasn't alive, he wouldn't be wearing scrubs. He'd be wearing a God awful Star Wars shirt.
"Dann?"
"Blue," he said.
"Am I alive?"
"Yes, you're alive."
"Is Pip alive?"
"Yes, he's alive."
"We both made it?"
"Yes, you both made it."
I smiled. Then I began to hear background noises. Nurses, beeps, and chaos. I heard a tiny little cry. Almost like a lamb. It was a beautiful sound. The most wonderful noise I have ever heard in my life.
There are moments that change you slightly or greatly. Moments that are so clear you can remember them for years afterwards. But then there are moments that once you live them, your life will never be the same. Moments that make you realize what you're doing here on earth. There are moments that just give you life to your existence.
I saw his toes first. Red and attached to kicking feet. Kicking feet that were attached to kicking legs. His legs were moving faster than mine ever did. His, what I thought to be big then, belly. His arms were flying all over the place. His little mouth wailing, no, singing the most gorgeous love song I have ever heard. His eyes, barely open, but I saw them. "Pip," I said quietly. And it was at that moment that I realized that I was made for this little guy. My whole existence, every stumble, laugh, and tear along the way was all a part of a greater scheme to get me to bring this perfect little person into the world.
I couldn't move. I was under a warming blanket and I was still so heavy. A nurse picked him up. She stepped towards me with this little piece of perfection and laid him on my chest. I kissed him, "Hi, baby," I said softly. He stole my heart. I have been head over heels in love with him from the moment I saw him.
I am the luckiest girl alive to have him as my son.
All I really was doing was waiting for you - John Lennon
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