And She's Out!

This is extremely long. I am typing out everything I remember so that years from now, I will know exactly what happened on 9 February 2009. It is extremely long. It is not exciting. It will make you sleep. (And Liza, it wont make you cry.)

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On 9th February, after school, I went to KK for my 37th week check-up. I was still, of course, hoping for a natural delivery but knew that a Caesarian section may just have to be performed.

When I got there, I did the normal routine tests but the blood pressure machine couldn't read my blood pressure because it was a bit on the low side. Low blood pressure was pretty much the norm throughout this pregnancy but since it did not cause blackouts or fainting spells, it was not a cause for alarm. While waiting for the CTG test to be performed, I was called into the doctor's room first. So I went in and she asked how things were. I told her about my vomiting/diarrhoea episode that happened a few days earlier. Other than that, things were okay. She asked about foetal movement and I admitted that I did not feel much movements for the past two days and only about one or two weak kicks that day. I suppose that was normal too considering that there's not much space in the womb for the baby to move around.

But, the gynae immediately told me that that could be worrying. She's concerned about, among other things, the umbilical cord being entangled around the baby's neck. So, she said, "Like that, we must deliver her soon, ah?"

And I asked, "Err, how soon?"

I think she didn't hear me because she then gathered some forms and started to furiously fill in the forms and told me to get the CTG done and then come back to see her. I was aware that soon could mean that very afternoon but I was really, really hoping that soon meant late in the week so that I would have more time to prepare Huda, hand over everything at work properly and go for my final brazilian (I don''t want the nurses to shave me).

I called The Husband and told him that I might have to deliver that very day and he was completely unprepared. He had tonnes of work to finish that day and was already planning to come back late.

I went for the CTG and went back to the doctor's office. I asked her again what soon meant. The answer? "Today. As soon as the Operating Theatres are ready."

Gulp.

Reality sank in. As she prepared the drip, I quickly sent text messages to The Husband and my HOD in school. That was around 4.30pm. The Husband would finish off his work, zoom home to pick up the hospital bag and other stuff, to my mom's to say hi and bye to Huda plus pick up more stuff and finally to to the hospital.

Meanwhile, I was wheeled to my room and changed into the operation gown. Lovely white and bright pink, it was. I was informed that they were waiting for one of the Operation Theatres to be free and when I asked for an estimate, the nurse told me that it would be in about half an hour or so. Time: 6pm. The Husband was not there yet.

6.30pm. A nurse came to take me to the OT. Husband still not there yet. I called him and told him that I would see him after I deliver. I had to say goodbye to my contact lenses. Blind as a bat, I walked with the nurse to the Operating Theatre and waited at the Patients-Only-Waiting-Area. Sigh. Patients Only. No hope of seeing The Husband before the operation. The anaesthetist came and asked me some questions. Suddenly, the doors swung open and The Husband appeared. He made it. The anaesthetist told us it was a very, very busy day at the OT because so many people opted to do their elective C-section on that day. Lucky date, she presumed. Before I knew it, I was whisked to Operating Theatre 5 and for the seven millionth time, I was asked my name and my IC number.

The nurses started preparing me for the operation and I started shivering uncontrollably. That happened when I had Huda too. I actually had the audacity to ask for the thermostat to be increased then. But of course, they couldn't as the place had to be kept as cool as possible to minimise bacteria growth and other similarly unsavoury stuff.

I like the anaesthetist whose name I didn't know. All I know is she sounded like a Filipino. She has this dry sense of humour about her and was motherly and comforting without intending to be so. She first sent a jab up my spine to numb the area so that they could put in the epidural + anaesthetic. At that point in time, I wondered why I put myself through that and I was quite sure that this #2 will be the last one. (Apparently, 99% of women said that at various points of the birthing process but that didn't stop the world's population from increasing.)

The doctors then started pinching my legs to find out if I could feel anything. I could still wriggle my toes and lift my legs. I was so worried that I would need more than a local anaesthesia for this one - which was the case for my sister's third c-section cos she could feel the doctors pinching her tummy. But, soon, my legs were as heavy as lead.

I soon felt tugging in my lower abdomen and knew they have already cut me up. One of the doctors actually knelt on the operating table and I saw her trying her mighty best to pull something out. At that point, I was so grateful for anaesthetic.

Then, I heard a cry. Farah was out. Somebody then showed Farah to me. And in my semi-blind state, all I saw were 4 limbs and a head attached to a body. Good enough.

After that, it was the long wait. I waited for the gynae to stitch me up. Then I waited in the recovery room for my senses to come back. All the time, I was comparing what I was experiencing at that point with what I experienced some 3 years ago. Then, I had absolutely no sense of time, being woken up in the middle of the night to have the operation done. But, this time round, I knew exactly what time it was because I kept asking the nurse. I have no idea why that was important to me.

One thing that I kept on thinking about when I was lying down in the recovery area was that I had to get better really fast (a) because I need to start breastfeeding Farah and (b) because Huda needs her mommy. I willed my legs to move and for my body to get rid of the anesthesia soonest.

By 9.25pm, I was wheeled out of the recovery room and The Husband was outside waiting for me. He told me about Farah but just like what it was 3 years ago, my mind was very hazy and I did not register much of what he was telling me.

10pm. Farah was sent to me. I finally had a chance to hold her. I could hold her and feed her. And fed her I did.