25 October 2004

It was dark and cold on that Monday morning as we loaded up to go to the hospital. Aunt Barbara had come up to Davis the night before to take Henry for a few days until my mom got there. At 42 weeks pregnant we had given up hope of a VBAC. No labor coming on despite every attempt know to man (including acupuncture!) and a hospital system against induction. We calmly made our way up to the L&D floor of the hospital. There is nothing quite like being instructed to wait because you aren't in labor.
Paperwork, prep time, Dr. Chan coming in to check me "One more time, just in case you are at an 5 and we won't need to do a C-section!"
The nurse keeps asking me, "Don't you feel these contractions?" Nope, nothing.
I walk over to the surgery room, at one point holding my own IV bag. At this point a certain fear of the known pain starts to set in. At least this time I would be awake, and I am so ready to know if this new baby was a boy or girl. Not that we had a name picked out.
The doctors come in, everyone takes their places. You'll feel a little pressure, they tell me. (That has to be the understatement of a lifetime.) I promptly throw up. A sloppy anethesiologist trying to wipe it out of my eye.
Everyone cheering as a large, slimy baby is tugged out of his cozy spot.
"It's a boy!"
I loved seeing his chubby face being lifted over the curtain. What a blessed sight. David commenting on the fact that he could see my organs.
Holding him next to me, seeing him weighed and measured. Being taken into post-op and nursing him for the first time, just 45 minutes after his birth.
Even though it was the second baby we had, it was the first birth that David and I had been present and conscious for. An amazing experience.
What a blessing, this sweet boy, so long in coming.
Happy birthday, Calv-O!