I woke up in the hospital (having spent the day before there on bed rest) and reminded the nurse that I wasn't able to eat the breakfast they had brought me what with the imminent c-section I had been emergency scheduled for two days before. Looking back I should have just eaten it, since the Peanut didn't make her grand entrance until after 9pm.
I had waddled on my extremely swollen feet with my super bloated belly, back, arms and hands) for my final maternity appointment and the high blood pressure (along with the extreme water retention) I had when she did the basic check up routine alarmed the Doctor enough that she took it again 10 minutes later (in the hopes that it had just been raised because of the physical activity of walking to the office) to make sure. When it was still high after the wait, she called the specialist who booked me an appointment for later that day where I was told that I had preclampsia, the baby was too big for me to safely deliver and I was headed to the hospital for a day of bed rest followed by an emergency C-section to take place some time the day after.
So I was told I could go in at 9 and then 10 and I had my fingers crossed that I wouldn't be going in until my Mom arrived. I needn't have worried since each slot I was put in throughout the day (5 times between noon and 7pm) was pushed back and my Mom and Grandma arrived in more than enough time.
When it was finally my turn, the husband was led off to change into scrubs and I was wheeled into the prenatal ward where I promptly threw up into a cardboard boat (you know, the kind french fries are served in at the high school cafeteria).
In the operating room I sat up on the table, hunched over while they tried and failed (what with the extra 25lb of water I'd been carrying around) a few excruciatingly painful times to give me the spinal. The Specialist (who was amazing) helped by holding me down while they jabbed the needle into my nerves a few more times before they hit the right spot and the lower half of my body went numb. Interesting side note: the room the Peanut was born in was in the Movie Look who's talking. To this day I will watch that show just to catch a glimpse of the dated pink flower wall paper that decorates that room in Lion's Gate Hospital.
The Husband came in and before I knew it they made the incision.
They dropped the curtain and I got my first look at the Peanut, "It's a girl! here's your baby!" the Dr said.
I took in her little old man face (I don't care what anyone says all new born babies have it; it's the scrunched up slightly bloated from swimming in fluid for 9 months about to cry from the indignity of being forced out of a nice warm safe place face), the shock of hair (there was so so so much of it) and tiny button nose and greeted her with the first thought that came to mind "Oh, there you are!"
She cried, I cried, the husband shed a few manly tears and they weighed her (8lb 5oz), measured her 20" and poked her in the heel to test her blood. Then I got to hold her as I was wheeled into a recovery room where the husband and I nixed all the names we'd short listed for her (River and Clara were the top two) all of which just didn't suit her; while we marveled at how perfect and beautiful our daughter was.
We finally landed on the perfect name when I suggested a name that just seemed to have been made for the Peanut and then, just like that 5 years just seemed to fly by.
She's grown into a simply beautiful little soul. She's smart and funny and creative and (along with her sister the Jelly Bean) the best thing I ever made. She makes me laugh, cry and sometimes so frustrated I wonder what I was thinking when we decided to start a family, but only sometimes. She also makes me bust with pride every single day.
So, five years ago today I stepped into motherhood; the Peanut was born and our lives changed, it's been one sweet ride.
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