D-Day

February 25th at 5am, I distinctly remember two thoughts: 1) being hungry and 2) I wasn't as nervous as I thought I would be.  The hunger was an annoyance.  I wasn't allowed to eat as of the night before and by the time we got to the hospital, my stomach was feeling it!

But I was excited to get in my gown and get the show on the road!  I remember a nurse, Michelle, came in and wanted to put my IV in.  The only problem is that I was smart enough to know that if you're dehydrated, your veins shrivel up.  I learned this the hard way, as I have been told I have the worst veins a nurse can ask for.  I knew I was doomed because not only was I supposed to starve myself, I wasn't even allowed to have a sip of water.  Michelle told me to relax, REALLY?!  I saw the size of that needle!

You see me icing my arm?  Yea...that was Michelle's sad attempt.  I only cried once on February 25th and it was when Michelle jabbed me with a needle that felt an inch thick.  (I unfortunately didn't have the sobbing moment when Max arrived.  More about that later.)

Soon I was wheeled into the OR.  You watch these birth shows on how the mothers were doted on and pampered. Let me tell ya - in reality, you're treated like a corpse.  It's like you're not there.  I swear, the nurses and doctors were in their own conversations about where they went to church, what to get their husband for his 40th birthday, their little daughter taking her first dance class, etc.  It was only when I heard the doctor say, "Come on, sweetie.  You can do it." that I realized that he was coming out.

Yup, that's my stomach split open.  There's Max.  I swear, he was screaming in the placenta because it was quite obvious that he was PISSED.

Wouldn't you be if you came out like that?  I was in such a blur.  I couldn't tell what was going on.  I wish I can say that I was emotionally gushing and crying but here's the reality.  I turned to my right, saw THIS on the table, just screaming and screaming and I thought, "HOLY COW.  WHAT DO I DO WITH THAT?"  I was freaking out.  I turned the other direction to my anesthesiologist and said to her, "Oh my God, is he going to stop crying?" and she just laughed as if she was saying, "You FOOL"

This was the first time I legitimately held my son.  Facebook viewers commented on how beautiful this picture was and how motherhood suit me.  The truth of the matter was, I was so drugged and groggy.  It took every ounce of effort for me to look composed and calm.  Yea, after Todd took this picture, they wheeled me into my hospital room where I immediately puked.  Still no motherly, gushing feeling yet.  I blame the drugs.