When doctors told us we would have to go the c-section route, one of us was unhappy. And it was not the one whose body was about to be sliced open like a biology-class frog.
Brooke had been trying to have the baby for so long, she was ecstatic at anything that would make it happen, even if it meant she would go under the knife.
I, on the other hand, am a risk-adverse person. No mountain climbing or sky diving for me. I plan to die the old-fashioned way: eating too much and having a heart attack.
A trip under the knife scared me. But the doctors said that was really our only option. Sydney was content to stay in for awhile and her head was in a position where she needed to come out. I had always thought my daughter would come late, but, when Brooke was diagnosed with gestational diabetes, the option of a late delivery disappeared. Sydney had to come out on time.
Well, she had other ideas. Because of her stubbornness, her mom would now pay the price of major surgery.
I squeezed into my scrubs as they whisked Brooke away to prepare her. When I arrived in the room, she was already lying on a table with a curtain blocking her view of her lower half.
Look, I was MAJOR afraid. I don’t care how many times they tell you c-sections are routine, when it is your wife lying on the table with her life on the line, it is one of the scariest things you will ever experience. My heart pounded like a jack hammer.
I positioned myself near Brooke’s head so I could talk to her through the surgery. I was determined not to look down. It is not that I couldn’t handle it. As a reporter, I once sat through a whole autopsy, watching the coroner slice a man’s belly open, pull and weigh the organs, saw the brain out for examination, etc. It had little effect on me.
(Turns out the poor bloke had an aneurysm burst in his stomach while trying to grunt out a difficult bowel movement. He immediately keeled right over and died on the bathroom floor. You think that doesn’t go through my head every time I am struggling with constipation? Be careful in there! No need to hurry.)
It was impossible not to notice what was going on out of the corner of my eye. It was like a scene from MASH. Scalpels were flying through the air as they rapidly sliced away, pushing organs around to get better access to my baby. Plastic lines moved blood and other fluids to and from my wife’s body. Three different surgeons worked furiously, with a team of nurses surrounding them, carrying out various duties.
I tried to avoid looking afraid. I wanted to make sure my wife was calm and knew everything would be ok. Her main concern was the baby – “Can you see her yet?” My main concern was my wife living through this surgery.
Soon, she emerged. A purplish little blob appeared in the corner of my eye. Even with all the concern I had for my wife, I could not help myself but stand up and walk over to see her. It was as if all the commotion in the room stopped for a minute. I was totally focused on her. The nurses grabbed her and moved her over to an area where they could clean her up. She was coated with a dry, white pasty substance that they rubbed off. I watched in amazement as she wiggled in their hands.
Someone said her color was good. I’m not sure what else was said. I quickly scanned to make sure all her body parts were right. Ten fingers and toes. She was beautiful.
I cradled her for the first time. I can’t tell you what went through my mind. It was one of those moments where you are almost thoughtless, you just react. I have never believed in love at first sight. That changed in that moment.
I raced over to Brooke with the baby in my arms. Brooke’s smile was a mile wide. This was the moment she had waited for all her life. Her baby. I was happier for her than I was for me. We both had tears in our eyes as we enjoyed our first ever family moment.
Sydney Grace Gregg. Eight pounds even. Twenty one and a half inches long. Born at 3:31 p.m. on August 30. My precious baby.
The nurses gave us a minute, but then had to take her away for some tests and things. I handed her over and then buckled down to get Brooke through the rest of the surgery. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the doctors sewing stitches into her. Brooke kept saying she was sleepy and could barely stay awake. In my mind, I thought this was like a concussion and I couldn’t let her sleep because she might not wake up. I kept saying, “Honey, you have to stay awake.” At one point, one of the doctors said it was ok for her to sleep, that this was pretty common in c-sections. Still, Brooke’s strength was amazing. She managed to stay awake until the end.
She did get sick and start puking. I immediately lost it. I thought she was dying. My blood pressure shot up 100 points in ten seconds. I have said it before…I can’t do this without Brooke. The thought of parenting Sydney without my wife…I can’t even think of living without her, let alone parenting without her. We are one.
A nurse whisked me away. She gave me tissues to wipe my eyes, but when I removed my mask to wipe, my nose gushed blood. A serious blood-pressure spike. I had to walk out of the room to clean myself up, still worried my wife was dying. What a drama queen. My wife is having major surgery and I interrupt it with my own attention-grabbing moment.
We both survived. Those doctors and nurses do incredible work and they took tremendous care of both of us, as well as our baby. Back in the recovery room, we got to spend as much time as we wanted with Sydney.
We are blessed.
A friend of mine said that children increase your span of emotions. He said you’ll experience higher highs, lower lows, greater fears, more intense pride, etc. then you have ever felt before.
Based on my experience in that delivery room, I already know he is right.
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