| | Two weeks before Angeli was born, I was already having contractions. I’ve such a tiny frame and as my “night before belly” pic would show,  it just looks like I swallowed a watermelon….a feisty one. But she was able to wait until D-day.
THE DAY BEFORE: Monday, August 7 – mom arrived in France in the morning. I just had enough hours with her to turn over stuff in the house before I was set to go to check in the hospital. I’m scheduled for c-sec the next day (a date I only knew of 5 days ago). Although this is my second time to give birth, I forgot all the pre-delivery stuff they make you do in the hospital. I’ve always thought I’ll check in the way we do at hotels, get a room, and wait for room service dinner then sleep. Of course it didn’t happen that way…
I went into an observation room where they strapped wires and monitoring stuff on me. It read the contractions and the heartbeat of the baby. They also had to do gyne checks. At the same time, they had to draw blood – the famous “prise de sang” – something to do with anesthesia preparations. The lady doing it was praising my vein for being cooperative. That was before she finished and said “Ooops, sorry I forgot a tube”. So she couldn’t use the same vein and searched for another on my right arm. Ouchie! I asked her to move to my left arm. It was just as painful but finally she got what she wanted. By the time she was done, I’ve got two painful arms and the blue marks were starting to come out. The monitoring was taking too long (they kept on peeking at the results and telling me “15 more minutes”) and finally it was because the paper feed of the monitory was empty at some point that it wasn’t moving anymore. Duh. :doh:
Then I got released and found my solo room. Think I finally got rest? Nurse comes in later (it was probably past 9pm) to say “Sorry madame, but we realized we had to do your blood-type card again, and the staff downstairs didn’t know it” aka “we need to draw more blood”. She looked at my already sore arms and the blood clots that were forming … I have junkie arms!  … then she found a vein to draw more blood. At the same time I was eyeing my last supper (I’m not allowed to drink nor eat by midnight until after the operation).
By 10pm, another lady came in to say “You have to be shaved tonight”. Cool! *sarcasm*
She must have used my grandfather’s razor. Amazing I had skin left after the shave. Then she noticed my finger and toe nails, which took me hours to polish :nails: the day before (imagine how difficult it is to polish toenails with a belly bump). “Sorry madame, but you need to remove the polish”. They didn’t even have acetone so I had this weird bottle of oil that takes about 5 minutes scrubbing time per nail….and I have 20 of them. I told the lady that my husband can bring proper nail polish remover the next day, but they insisted on having it done that night. Halfway through the job, she assisted me in doing it because she said I need to get rest.
D-DAY: Tuesday, August 8. Of course I didn’t get enough rest and I’m already starving and thirsty. They made me drink something though – something that will help fight acidity problems and it tasted like gin tonic, lol  . I was told to wash myself with Betadine scrub (during the shower I was red all over with the solution but they remove easily when you rinse). I put on the hospital robe. Then they put dextrose IV…another pricking episode. And I’m less mobile now. The worst is to come…the catheter. Why can’t they put this when I’m under anesthesia, I don’t know. Even with my first delivery, I can remember this is the most painful experience ever. Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!
Before 10am, they wheeled me to the operating room. Hubby with our camcorder waited outside – he’ll be there when baby is out. I saw my doc and different nurses in charge of different things (anesthetists, midwife, child care, assistants, etc.). It was cold in the operating room. I had spinal anesthesia (epidural/peridural) – it was taking them long to mix whatever coz I remember being in my “cat back” position a long time, in the cold, waiting for them to puncture my back. Finally they did it, and I was asked to lie down. I can feel a warm sensation on my legs. Good  , the anesthesia is working.
Then they put all sorts of straps again and monitors so I couldn’t really move my arms (not due to anesthesia)…I can still move my legs though and that panicked me. I’m supposed to be immobile from tummy to the feet. So I told the lady beside me, “Pls. don’t cut me yet coz I can still feel my feet moving.” She replied: “It’s normal, I put something in there that allows you to move/feel your feet while not the rest of your lower body.” Still, I didn’t trust what she said. Panic, panic, panic. What if I feel them cutting me?
Then the nurse said, “Madame, they started now.” Hmm…that’s a good sign. If I’m already cut up and am still lying there normally, it means the anesthesia is working where it should. However, my heartbeat rate was already up and whatever it is in the monitor (I can just hear them talking about it) and suddenly I had the urge to cry and cry. And I did. I think I just had my panic attack experience. I didn’t have that with Kevin before. I had my oxygen mask and I’m not sure if they put anything else in there to calm me --- and the ladies started trying to calm me. One of them wanted to keep my mind off the operation. She asked me my firstborn’s name. However, since I was talking under my mask, she couldn’t hear me and asked me to repeat several times. Finally she admitted she was hard of hearing. She is stressing me more! Later, she asks, what are we going to name the baby. This is the conversation where I swear I could have killed her have I not been strapped in there:
Moi: Angeli (spells it out)
Her: No “e” at the end? But in French, girl names (usually) end with “e”.
Moi: Well, it’s not a French name. It’s Italian. (actually it's latin in origin, lol)
(She leaves me for two minutes, then comes back)
Her: Madame, your last name is Coquelin, so you’re French, not Italian. So there must be an “e” at the end right?
Moi: (Thinking of strangling the girl that is supposed to “calm” me with her small talk…but pretended to be drowsy instead).
And this was the same nurse who registered Angeli’s birth in the hospital and true enough, the paperwork had Angelie written on it.  Fortunately those aren’t official documents.
I’m not sure if it’s her or the panic attack or the combination of everything that’s happening, but I started to be nauseous. I asked for this container where I can spit/puke on just in case. Then it started coming out. I have been vomiting non stop, and Angeli wasn’t even out yet. They were taking their time maybe. With Kevin I remember they just had a hard time extracting his shoulders (he was breech). Then I heard a baby’s cry. My little angel was finally out. They showed her to me and the first I noticed was she looked like the ultrasound face I saw. I was able to kiss her  and it’s the last time I saw her for the day because I was never able to open my eyes anymore after that.
Not only I was vomiting and nauseous at the same time, but I also had vertigo. The vertigo sensation is when I open my eyes and everything is spinning 360° - like riding a fast-paced carousel. The last time I had that bad was in 2002. So the rest of the day, they were trying to treat all of those symptoms that are related to my: acidity problems, anemia, and vertigo history. I’m probably the most over-medicated person that day and then docs came in and out wondering if whatever was happening to me was because something went wrong with the operation. Even when I was wheeled back to my room (still vomiting nonstop) – I’m still fully aware of what’s happening around me (I can hear clearly and I’m awake), I just couldn’t respond to it nor look at it….they’re all talking about which meds to put in my dextrose and at what dose. I also know that my family (mom, hubby and Kevin) visited me that afternoon and they were able to see Angeli, take pictures, and hubby even fed her twice. I couldn’t do a thing. I tried to tell them to give me tanganil (a pill I use when I had vertigo) but it was hours after before they finally gave it to me (and that’s the only time I started feeling better)--- because they were trying to rule out other causes --- when I couldn’t even look at the doctors who wanted to check me. This lasted the whole night. My visitors left, Angeli slept at the nurses’ station, and I was being treated the whole night.
AFTER: The next morning at 6am, I rang for the nurses. I can open my eyes now and I said I want to see my baby. They brought me Angeli and she stayed with me from then on. That’s the only time I also found out details like: born 8/8 at 10h49am, 2.905kg, 47cm – scored 10 on her Apgar. She’s also very pink. As Kevin said “Angeli is pink, I’m blue” .
For the rest of my hospital stay, I just had to take several pills – six types. They also starved me for two days (I hated that but it was necessary – however mom and hubby bought me contraband snacks). I also have daily “prise de sang” to monitor the iron content of my blood (my poor arms) and nightly injections on my legs for blood something (I still don’t get what it is for; I just let them do it). But everything is not as bad or painful anymore when you know the baby is out and healthy because it’s all the matters.
Hubby registered her birth at the city hall – she’s officially known with three names: Angeli Yvonne Myrna Coquelin. Angeli is the name we want for her, Yvonne is after hubby’s grandmother, and Myrna is my mom’s name. Now at home:  |
| | Posted 8/29/2006 8:35 AM - 268 Views - 0 eProps - 0 comments
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