My husband and parents walked in with me and I got situated in pre-op. B was by my side the whole time, and then my parents came back when I was changed, monitored, and hooked up to an IV. It all seemed so surreal. Once things were getting started, I didn't feel too nervous anymore. The anticipation had me a little excited. I was constantly thinking about my blood sugar though. As my endo had ordered and according to hospital policy for diabetics on insulin pumps, I was in charge of managing my diabetes the whole time, unless I was unable to. The stress had my blood sugar a little higher than I'd like upon arrival and I gave insulin to correct, but because I was running only a percentage of my normal basal rate, it didn't come down to the 100-120 range I would have liked to see.
When they finally came to roll me back to the OR, my blood sugar was holding steady at around 140. I kissed everyone goodbye and was pushed through the back halls into a rather intimidating looking operating room. (I have only had surgery one other time and don't remember much. But this looked like a sterile gymnasium with a bunch of alien equipment in it and about 30 people in scrubs circulating around. What did I sign myself up for?!)
First they had to insert the spinal, which took 2 tries. After the first, I was having second thoughts about having this baby. Unfortunately I did not see a way out of this. Finally the meds were administered and my legs were immediately floppy. I felt a warm, tingly feeling all the way up my body into my arms and as high up as my throat. It was such a strange sensation being able to feel the pressure of people touching me, but not pain or temperature in my numb lower half. They let my husband back and he came up to sit by my head. I felt much better when he was there. My OB started the surgery and listening to him talking about what he was doing did not feel relaxing. I asked B to talk to me so I could concentrate on something else.
Pretty soon my OB was saying the head was out, shoulders were out, that they were big and he thought I made a good decision [about the section]. Then I heard a cry. Someone asked her name. Ellen Frances. Again, this didn't seem real. B went to cut the cord and I waited impatiently for what seemed like an eternity before he walked back to my head carrying our daughter.
She was the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.
I will always remember that moment, like time stopped. She was perfection, a miracle, a product of my husband and me that came with such hard work and anticipation and wonder. I wanted to cry, but the anesthesia had such a strange effect on me, almost like it was suppressing all of my senses. But after a minute or so of just staring at this beautiful person who had just entered this world, I was sobbing. At this point the anesthesiologist was dabbing my tears away with pieces of gauze, which was comical thinking about it now.
I couldn't stop staring at her and her tiny, perfect features. But diabetes was still on my mind even at this point. I kept asking B to check my blood sugar on my meter, and the anesthesiologist to click on my CGM as I had heard that after the placenta gets delivered, insulin needs immediately decrease and hypoglycemia is a real possibility. Everything was still holding pretty steady, only going down slightly. When everything was finished we all went to PACU to recover. B kept checking my blood sugar which was actually rising slightly, and the nurses were monitoring my daughter's. I was a little sad when I learned her blood sugar was low, and then still low after supplementing her with formula. A neonatologist was called, but he said he wasn't too worried about it, that it was common with babies of daibetic moms, and that they would monitor her blood sugar over the next 24 hours. He also ordered supplementation with formula after each feed until her blood sugar was regulated. I wasn't too upset about it. I just wanted her to be ok, whatever it took.
We all went back to a post-partum room about 2 hours after recovery, my daughter in tow in a bassinet that we affectionately called "the tub". My husband and I were in awe of her, still not believing she was here. I felt such relief, such love, and wonderment of her and this process. She is my heart and my world now.
Ellen Frances, we love you so much. You are the best thing to happen to us. You really are a tiny miracle and the reason I know a mother's love. Thank you for expanding our hearts even more.
