On July 5, 2011, I woke up and got dressed. Then I went into Parker's room to get him ready for school. We did our normal morning routine then Josh and I got into his car and my mom and Pman got into our MV.
We were headed to the hospital, they were headed to school.
Before we left, I tried desperately to soak up the last bits of time with Pfunk. I sniffed his head. Kissed his face incessantly. Told him I loved him so much, he stopped answering me back.
I'm not sure why I was so hellbent on reassuring him (or me) that nothing was going to change- I was going to the hospital to have a baby, but he will always be my Sweet Baby Boy (SBB). When I was pregnant, P1 and I read a book called "Will You Still Love Me?" It is about loving the first baby even after the second baby comes.
To say I teared up every time we read it is a drastic understatement.
Once we were at the hospital, we checked in and of course got the new girl and the process took a long time. She kept apologizing and I said, "It's fine, but if I was standing here with broken water, I would probably not be so patient."
We wandered over to the maternity ward to get set up for the c- section. Josh and I were even laughing at the size of his giant coffee and the fact that the check-in point and the maternity ward were so far away from each other and yet a wheelchair was not even offered.
We were the first c-section appointment of the day and no one was in labor at all when we got to the nurses station. When I walked up to this very same desk when I was in labor with Pman, I was...welcomed...by the blood curdling screams of various women in full blown labor.
This time I walked over to several nurses engaged in a hushed conversation and said, "Hi! I'm here to have a baby!"
They got me a gown, an IV, fetal monitor and compression hose.
The gown is what it is- drafty at best.
I hate needles, so after the nurse inserted the IV she wrapped red sticky gauze around my wrist so I could not see the insertion site. She's good people.
Then another nurse came in and put compression hose on my legs. Incidentally, putting thick panty hose on another person has to be one of the most difficult tasks to complete. Especially when the someone is already sweaty with anticipation. Then she slid on two things that looked like air casts over the hose. Then blue plastic bags.
I started sweating so bad that I thought I was going to pass out. They took off the bags and put a 1980's oscillating fan on high and aimed it right at me. Awesome.
When the time came I walked into the OR flanked by the two nurses. I hoisted myself onto the surgical table. I clung to the nice nurse with the red sticky gauze as the Anesthesiologist plunged hard core drugs into my spine.
The curtain went up, Josh came in. Everything got familiar, but scary. I could glance over at Josh who sat in a stool just behind my head. I knew we were both thinking the same things. I knew we both needed this little girl to be healthy.
I felt tugging and pressure, which was followed by blood splattering on the sheet curtain in front of me and on the face mask of my OB. Then crying. Beautiful crying from my SBG Peyton.
As she was cleaned and assessed, I was stitched back together. Then I was wheeled to recovery and Josh followed Peyton to the nursery. We both bounced back quickly and within 45 minutes I was nursing her while still in recovery.
The following 3 days we stayed in the hospital with the most doting and attentive nurses. Parker came for visits with my parents, but it was never enough.
We are home now and honestly much calmer than we were when Parker was an infant. P1 is absolutely in love with his sister. We are trying to figure out her night time schedule.
She is back up to her birth weight (within one week, which apparently is amazing, but really this girl likes to eat!)
I love Peyton, of course, she is amazing, but I'm really missing my Mommy and Parker time. Josh and I are trying to make sure he feels like a part of all this. Trying to make sure he knows he is loved now just as much as he ever was, maybe more than ever actually. I want him to know everyone in the family has a special place for him, and P2, in their hearts and nothing will change that.
Last night I was giving P2 a bottle on the couch while P1 laid with his head in my lap. P1 talked to me about whatever was on his mind at the time. Occasionally he would lift his head, say hi to P2 and pat her head or tickle her feet.