Battles with Tarzan
There is one thing that I hope my girls ...
STOP. "My girls." Those words still sound so weird to me. They are so beautifully, magically, unbelievably weird. And fantastic.
ANYWAY.
I hope that some day my girls think back and remember these words that were written in this blog:
C-SECTIONS ARE THE WORST.
I don't mean that as a complaint; I mean that as blackmail. Someday when they are picking a nursing home where I will spend my golden years, I hope that they remember that getting cut open, gutted, having nearly 10 pounds ripped from your body, and then getting sewn back up is a level of misery that I wouldn't wish upon my worst enemy. Drugs help, but they certainly don't make it OK.
Go with the nice nursing home, girls, because I'm about to detail exactly how much you owe me.
(Mila, you owe me a tiny bit more than Alexis does. I'm just sayin'.)
The same drugs that make a c-section almost tolerable apparently make my body SUPER unhappy. It was the sort of thing that I figured out back when Alexis was born, but I didn't know it was the drugs back then. I thought maybe human error was to blame for the nausea that hit me like a tornado in the moments before and following her birth. One of my most vivid memories of that night is puking into a burgundy bedpan while the husband sat at the foot of my bed eating M&Ms.
He was hungry. I vowed to never eat M&Ms again.
It occurred to me that I should mention the puking thing to the anesthesiologist before we got started this time around. He double-checked some things and vowed that he was prepared. We even had a signal I could use if I couldn't talk when it hit.
And I couldn't. Minutes before the cutting began, before the spinal had even set in, the nausea came flying into the room like Tarzan. I was toast. I made the signal, the anesthesiologist jumped like a jack-in-the-box, and things were quickly under control. I'm pretty sure I owe the guy a hug for moving as fast as he did.
But eventually Mila was a real, live, awesome thing that I can stare at for hours on end and we were back in my room. We were back in my room with the anesthesiologist still there, waiting to make sure the drugs did everything they were supposed to do. Tarzan came storming in again. That time my bestie with the drugs wasn't quite as quick and I had to wage war against the contents of my stomach.
I won. Barely.
That was the beginning of hours of battles against puke.
Some of the battles were relatively easy, others not so much. But when another soldier entered the battlefield, things got more complicated.
Alexis.
As soon as she was out of school, she was rushed to the hospital to meet her new sibling. There will be more on that later because it was The Best Ever, but once Alexis was in the room, the battles had to be fought more subtly.
Alexis was super worried about me. APPARENTLY seeing your mom all tubed up and immobile is a little bit upsetting when you're as empathetic as she is. I didn't want her to worry and I definitely didn't want to traumatize her, so I kept trying to play it cool.
Picture, if you will, a grown woman getting punched in the stomach by Tarzan (The King of the Nausea Jungle), fighting like hell to keep everything down, sweating like a pig because TARZAN PUNCHED HER AND OUCH, with her eyes darting to and fro hoping her kid wasn't seeing what was going on. Add on a layer of concerned people in the room asking, "Are you OK?" and wanting to scream DO NOT DRAW ATTENTION TO TARZAN'S VICTIM but unable to scream because puke. Just ... puke.
Over and over again.
But! There is a happy ending in this little story. After a few hours of Tarzan beating on me, I mentioned something about the Nausea Battles in a text to a friend. Within moments, I had a reply that said something to the effect of, "Me, too. Ask for this super magical happy drug."
And it was a super magical happy drug. It fixed everything.
Except for the whole "just got cut up and then puked for hours" thing. That part wasn't quite fixed.
So ... nursing home. You owe me a good one, girls.
Monday, June 2, 2014
Reader Comments (10)
You poor thing! I threw up once after my csection and wanted to check and see if my innards had burst out of me. I can't imagine doing it repeatedly for hours. That better be an awesome nursing home!
My 2nd c section was awful at the time- I felt like I couldn't breathe because I was numb so far up. Not a feeling I ever want to repeat. At least you're home now and can gaze adoringly at baby Mila for hours on end. That's the best part. :)
Oh yes I empathise. First C section was emergency top up of epidural at 2am. Coming out of that I had the ITCHES chronically. (apparently common opioid reaction, and this body doesn't do well with opioids!).
Second time was going for Vbac, changed my mind a fortnight out and had a spinal block and a 9am c. Felt like death all afternoon, the huz changed first nappies, dealt with doting relatives while I lay there feeling grey and grim and freaked out by the lack of sensation in my legs.
Just after everyone had left I was very sick, but had the giant needle of doom in my butt which helped...
Hope your recovery goes well and you can 'waste' lots of time gazing at your gorgeous girls (and I have two, they are the best!) :)
You poor thing! That had to be the most painful thing ever. I'm surprised they didn't just give you the anti-nausea meds going straight into it! Like the previous commenter, I wanted to scratch my face off because of the morphine! I hope these kids realize this stuff when they get older. :)
She is beautiful! I have no idea why my eyes are leaking?!?!? Love her name. :-) Congratulations and well done.
Awww. Your girls. Your girls are the best. :)
(Also: what is it with second c-sections?! I was certainly more mobile recovery-wise with the 2nd one, but the NAUSEA and the PUPPPS rash...gah! I like your blackmail idea. It will be instituted at Casa de Katie post-haste.)
Mila is gorgeous. She looks so silimar to Alexis as a baby. I can't believe that you're posting this soon after childbirth, but thank you! Love reading your stories. Congratulations :-)
C-sections suck. But so does an episiotomy (yes, i went there). Babies at cute as that however, do not suck. :)
"My girls." OMG.
Also, kudos to you for sweating and fighting with Tarzan. I am helpless when I'm nauseated. Like whoa. Good job, my friend!
GIRLS! squeeeeeeeeeeeee!
puking is stupid. but at least it will get you a great nursing home.
:)