I should be writing full paragraphs to narrate the story of Wes's first few days, but my sleep-deprived brain won't allow it. Instead of waiting for the energy, and then risking forgetting some of the story's details, I'm throwing together a big bullet-pointed list. (#thirdchildproblems)
Here are several things I want to remember about Wes's birth. Many are small and seemingly insignificant things, but to me, they are important and worth treasuring.
- Mark and I conjuring up small talk on the hour drive to the hospital. Both of us likely having much bigger things on our mind, but trying to maintain some normalcy.
- Walking in the same entrance, traveling up the same elevator, seeing the same signs on the wall as we did when our five-month-old Charlotte had meningitis in the same, darn hospital.
- How it felt to check in to an appointment to have a baby.
- The cheery and honest pre-op nurse who reminded me of a sweet friend I trust.
- How long two hours feels with absolutely nothing to do but wait and worry - our only distraction watching an IV drip fluids, and a machine track baby heartbeats.
- How Mark prayed with our doctor before the operation.
- How long the hallway looked leading to the operating room.
- How very vulnerable and desperate it feels to be completely numb, laying on an operating table, looking up at bright lights. To be starkly reminded of how little control we really have in life and death and the in between.
- The older, grandpa anesthetist who had kind eyes and was so very reassuring. How many times he gently told me, "That's completely normal. It's okay to feel that way."
- The younger anesthetist with rimmed glasses who was so assertive and focused. How he insisted on doing another IV "just in case" and refused to start anything without another unit of blood on hand. How he acted quickly when the spinal drugs were too strong and how he adjusted other meds at least one million times as my blood pressure acted funky.
- How it felt to hear Wes cry, to hear the nurse say he was a boy (I had my doubts) and that his lungs were strong (I had my fears).
- That I got to greet him right away and welcome him to the world, fully conscious and aware - a first, despite having three kids.
- That we noticed Wes's broad shoulders and dark hair first.
- How our doctor laughed and reassured us that everything had clamped down perfectly and that there was no sign of hemorrhaging.
- How Mark led the entire operating room in the Doxology after Wes was born and I had been stitched back up.
- All of Wes's little grunts and spunky kicks.
- How great it felt to rip off all the damn tape and IV ports.
- What it was like to relax in a hospital without complications or fears.
- That Charlotte wanted to hold Wes immediately and dote over him, that Will preferred to observe and smile with sparkly eyes.
- How Will and Charlie's first words after "Welcome home! Happy birthday, Wes!" were "WHY IS YOUR TUMMY SO STILL BIG, Mom?!" (I should have sent them straight to their rooms for that kind of sassy talk.)
- How Will started talking in a lowered "dude" voice with his hands on his hips or in his pockets. Acting tough and old and protective and responsible. That he wanted to be twins with Wes and was disappointed they wouldn't look exactly alike.
- How Charlotte kept asking if we could "keep" Wes. How excited she was every.single.time I said "yes!"
