If you missed part one of the story, read it here.
Doctor P came in to see how dilated I was. She looked puzzled… surprised even. Her exact words to us were,”I don’t think that’s a head!”
My heart sank.
The nurse brought in an ultrasound machine and the image confirmed it – Little Roo was breech!
At that point I just started crying. It had been going so well. I didn’t think my attempt at a VBAC would end for this of all reasons! I mean, why didn’t they know he was breech before? I’m certain he flipped at some point in the few weeks prior but no one ever caught it – not even me. I even remembered another doctor commenting on feeling his head at my 36 week appointment. Heck, the nurse even checked me earlier that morning and didn’t notice it.
Regardless of when it happened, there was no sense sitting around to labor any longer- a repeat cesarean was in my near future.
I looked at the clock. It was getting close to 7:00 and I knew Big Roo would be awake or close to it. I asked the doctor and nurses if we could wait a minute so we could call Big Roo. I knew it would be scary for him to wake up and us not be there so I wanted to reassure him we were okay and were coming back.
I texted my friend and he wasn’t awake yet. A few minutes later though I called and sure enough he was awake.
And scared.
Poor thing was bawling. I could distinguish this cry from the his usual “I don’t wanna go to bed” or “I just got a boo boo” cries. It was a frightened cry and it shattered my heart in a zillion pieces. He was under a table in his room crying and shying away from my friend, who he knows a “G’s mom.”
She put me on speakerphone. I told him it was mama. That we were at the hospital with the baby and I knew he was scared. I explained that G’s mom would take him to daycare so he could play with his friends. He kept crying and by this time so was I. I talked through my own bawling to tell him it’s okay and that I love him. I hung up and cried even harder. Daddy Roo’s eyes watered as he stroked my hair. This sure wasn’t easy.
Luckily, I got a text a few minutes later saying that he was doing fine now. It gave me the peace I needed, even if she was just saying that (I found out later he really WAS just fine and had a great time with her that morning).
Time to have this baby!
Daddy Roo changed into scrubs and unlike three years ago, I snapped a shot of him this time.
I got wheeled down the hall to the operating room. The nurses were so awesome as we prepped for surgery. It took a while to test my numbness and prep everything. The epidural was making me shake and the nurse commented on how freezing my hands were. Luckily the shaking never got as bad as with Big Roo.
Daddy Roo came in and say down beside me. He was so sweet and attentive, stroking my hair and grabbing my hand for support.
After upping my epi a few times (I could feel little pinches during their “tests”), it was time to start. I could feel tugging and pulling here and there but Elizabeth, the awesome nurse anesthetist, stayed by my head and told me what they were doing at each stage. Daddy Roo was on the other side of my head asking how I was doing.
When it came time to bring Little Roo into the world, I felt immense pressure and pulling. The suddenly, they held him up over the blue sheet and we met him for the first time- covered in blood, all scrunched up and absolutely gorgeous!
I cried out of pure happiness and then I heard him cry. Daddy Roo cried too. Our second son was finally here… on Big Roo’s birthday no less! Daddy Roo went over to watch the baby get his Apgar scores and took some pics to bring back to me.
While I couldn’t hold him until later, they brought him to Daddy Roo to hold once he was cleaned up. He took his son gently into his arms and laid him beside me so that our faces were inches apart.
I stroked his hair and face, admiring our new son. At one point, he reached out and wrapped his tiny hand around my finger. I couldn’t get the best look since the blankets that wrapped him up slightly covered his face. But I could see that his nose was just like Big Roo’s… that he had those steel blue newborn eyes… and a head full of dark hair just like his brother.
After I left recovery, I finally held him. He sunk into my arms like he had done it a thousand times. Tears streamed down my face.
Two boys. One birthday. Three years apart. Absolutely perfect.