Trebas, Party of Three

All those days watching from the windows

All those years outside looking in

All that time never even knowing

Just how blind I've been

Now I'm here blinking in the starlight

Now I'm here suddenly I see

Standing here it's all so clear

I'm where I'm meant to be

And at last I see the light

And it's like the fog has lifted

And at last I see the light

And it's like the sky is new

And it's warm and real and bright

And the world has somehow shifted

All at once everything looks different

Now that I see you

All those days chasing down a daydream

All those years living in a blur

All that time never truly seeing

Things, the way they were

Now she's here shining in the starlight

Now she's here suddenly I know

If she's here it's crystal clear

I'm where I'm meant to go

And at last I see the light

And it's like the fog has lifted

And at last I see the light

And it's like the sky is new

And it's warm and real and bright

And the world has somehow shifted

All at once everything is different

Now that I see you

Now that I see you

July 28th, 2018 dawned bright and clear. The Southern California weather was promising another hot summer day. It was 6am and Preston and I had just pulled into the parking lot of Chik Fil A. We hadn’t known it didn’t open for another half hour, so when we got there, we sat in the car, talking and listening to music. This was it. Today or tomorrow (depending on the duration of delivery), we would meet our little girl. We were ecstatic. And also fairly tired. We hadn’t gotten much sleep the night before (I wonder why...), and it showed in the bags under our eyes. 

6:30 on the dot found us inside ordering. We were due at the hospital for our scheduled induction at 7. As we ate our breakfast, time seemed to slow down. Everything felt so surreal. How do you describe your emotions when the one thing you’ve been waiting years for is finally about to arrive? So much heartache, hope, fear, sorrow, excitement, and learning wrapped up in those years and about to come to an end. Like I said, surreal. 

We checked into the hospital right at 7. It was wise of us to take the hospital tour a couple weeks earlier. It was very familiar still, and we both felt comfortable. Unless you count the fact that I was huge, and uncomfortable no matter what. We felt at ease. 

A nurse helped me into an ugly pink gown and I rolled onto the bed. We were to meet the ultrasound tech in a few minutes who would tell us if baby girl was still head down. The nurses came in and started me on IV fluids. Using the biggest needle I’ve ever seen, by the way. In my hand. Lovely. As a side note, we had the most wonderful nurses for the duration of our stay. Despite the needle. 

The tech with the ultrasound machine came in and said we were good to go. We were just waiting on Dr. Price to give the go-ahead to start pitocin, and give us the game plan. At this point, we’re still just hanging out, laughing and joking around. That's what we do at the hospital to offset our historically bad feelings for the place. 

Dr. Price arrived, and we started to talk about what would happen next. In our recent visits with her over the past weeks, we had learned that baby girl was measuring big. Really big. And her abdomen was looking to outgrow her head, which could complicate things with a normal vaginal birth. So Dr. Price had brought another ultrasound machine to do some measuring, to make sure baby girl would be safe through a vaginal labor and delivery. Her precious little face popped onto the screen, and then Dr. Price moved to her abdomen. It took up the entire screen, and at this point, measured way bigger than her head. Her whole body was measuring 10 pounds plus. Big girl. 

At this point, we had to have a conversation about what to do and what was safest for the baby. Because she was so big, this would be a long labor. And because her abdomen was bigger than her head, it could cause major complications. Shoulder dystocia, suffocation, brain damage, and others. I had had my heart set on a pain med-free birth. I wanted the whole experience, but it would put her in danger. We had waited and prayed and wished for too long to get her here to dare putting her in that danger. After weighing the pros and cons, we decided the safest route was to do a c-section. 

Which meant we had to wait. BECAUSE WE ATE BREAKFAST. The anesthesiologist doesn’t know how every person will react to drugs with food in their stomach which can be dangerous in the OR, so we had to wait until about 1 in the afternoon before they would start prepping for surgery. 

They brought in a really flattering jumpsuit type set of scrubs for Preston, and we both got to wear the really fun hair covers. They gave me a very fluffy pillow to hold onto, and we walked to the OR. Which felt nuts. Do, do, do, do, do walking down the hallway to meet our baby. Crazy. Preston got to wait in the hall while I was anesthetized and prepped. Which felt like forever. I felt like they had already started cutting and was starting to get really nervous without him. Just when I was about to ask if he could come in, Dr. Price said, “And here’s Preston to hold your hand!” He would later say that it felt like an eternity that he was waiting in the hall. By this point, my lower half was entirely asleep. That’s exactly what it felt like. Pins and needles. Maybe a little less uncomfortable than that, but the only thing I could feel was pressure; a tugging and pulling and shoving that had me swaying from side to side. I laid there laughing and joking out of nervousness, and just chatting away with Preston as I started to feel woozier and woozier. 

Preston asked the anesthesiologist if he could stand up and watch, and he was told no, because they couldn’t risk him fainting, but he was allowed to take a video with my phone by holding it above the sheet. Eventually, he just got brave and stood up and watched anyway. He didn't feel faint at all, so they allowed it. Luckily, I've seen the video. It's incredible. 

Baby girl was very comfortable where she was. She hadn't dropped yet (which meant that at 9 months pregnant, I was as uncomfortable as ever), so Dr. Price was up to her elbow on my insides to reach her. And since she was so comfortable there, even after they got to her, they couldn't get her to come down. Not by pushing, pulling, tugging, or any other normal method. Which I didn't feel at all...until hours later. But it was so odd to be laying there, but to be rocked back and forth and up and down at random moments. I was just woozily laughing. 

Finally, they used the little vacuum and attached it to the baby's head, and maneuvered her little (but big) head out. The umbilical cord was wrapped twice around her neck, but since she wasn't being squeezed out of a birth canal, it wasn't tight, and Dr. Price easily and gently unwound it. No harm done. She didn't cry until she was all the way out, and since I couldn't see her, I'll admit, I was super nervous for about five of the longest seconds of my life. The nurses kept saying things like, "Oh, she's gorgeous!" "What a darling girl!" and in the meantime, I was desperate to see her. When she finally did cry out, it was only for a second. (She is still the most contented baby.)

 By this point, Preston was over with her. He had cut the umbilical cord, and she was having the fluid suctioned out of her lungs. She weighed a tidy 9lbs. 2 oz., and was 19 and a half inches long. She had her first diaper put on, and then was wrapped up nice and tight, and he brought her over to me to see her. Honestly, when you're laying on your back, they can't completely turn the baby over to show her face to you, so I really didn't get a good look at her. I did cry a little bit though, because I finally knew she was real. And here. 

I only had a second with her before they were whisked away, back to our room. I was almost asleep at this point because of the anesthesia, and still had to be sewn back up. Modern medicine is astounding. I eventually did fall asleep, and don't really remember anything until I was waking back up in my bed in my room. 

As a side note: There were several physical confirmations that we had made the right decision in doing the c-section. Firstly, she was big. She wasn't as big as the ultrasound had measured (which is normal. They have about a 1 pound margin of error), but she was big enough. Her abdomen did end up being larger than her head, so we avoided major risks there. Next, I would have labored forever with how high she was, and probably would have ended up in emergency surgery anyway. I'd rather be calm, and not in pain for that whole time. Lastly, the umbilical cord. We could have been in big trouble there.

Aside from all that, we had spiritual confirmation that it was the right choice to make. As soon as we decided to do it, I was filled with peace. Everything would be just fine. 

That first hour after waking I was still very groggy. It was a struggle to stay awake, but I was desperate to get coherent so I could finally actually meet my baby girl. I remember when the nurse placed her in my arms. It's probably the same feeling a climber gets when they summit a giant mountain. Or maybe a marathoner at the finish line. Or even just the sunshine coming out after a long storm. I held her to me and wept in joy and gratitude. At last, we had our Ellie girl. She was here. She was ours. She was perfect. 

She still is. 

"All at once, everything looks different. Now that I see you."