Benjamin: part 1

Every other time I'd gone to the doctor in the last week I was ball of nerves. Each and every time I got myself ready, doing my hair, my make-up, packing all the bags in the car just in case. But Wednesday I didn't have a hunch like I had had the previous week. I actually put our bags in the trunk thinking "not that we're going to need these anyway". I had showered the night before and was having a pretty bad hair day. I didn't vacuum because I thought, "I'll do it tomorrow". The house wasn't picked up like it had been for all the previous doctors appointments. There were even dishes in the sink. I just knew that things were going to be okay. This was not the day we were going to meet Wheezy. I just knew it.

I drove through Wendy's for a quick lunch for Henry and I before I dropped him off at my sisters house. There was a split second about half way though my chicken sandwich when I thought "well if I do have a c-section today I probably shouldn't be eating this" seeing as the doctor had recommended not eating for 8 hours before each appointment in the last week, just in case. But there was no way I was going to let my frosty go to waste. Because that would just be a down right shame.

I dropped Henry off and met Scott in the waiting room for the ultrasound with the specialist. For the first time in 6 weeks I wasn't a ball of nerves. We laughed and joked. We were actually enjoying ourselves.

Then they called us back.

The specialist, who usually was pretty mild mannered and even keeled came in a haste.

"I'm confused on why your here, I thought I told your doctor to deliver your baby last week...."
and turned around and left.

I looked at Scott. I think we both kind of knew right then. It was going to happen.

He came back in. Obviously irritated. Explained the situation, the condition, almost in a condescending way. He reiterated that he couldn't figure out why our doctor hadn't already delivered our baby per his suggestion. He did the ultrasound anyway and found yet another reason that the baby needed to come today. While the umbilical cord was flowing in the right direction (which was what the test that day was checking) the flow of the umbilical cord was slowing and thus causing even less nutrients to get to the baby. He shook his head and said he was going to recommend again that our doctor deliver our baby. We thanked him and left.

We had an NST scheduled before our doctor appointment and this was us waiting to be taken back for the test.
Even though we knew chances were that we were having a baby, I'm not really sure it had sunk in yet.



Then it was time for the NST.


(I know, my belly looks seriously tiny on this video. And even though Ben was little, how the HECK did he fit in there?!)

We weren't even half way through the NST when my doctor knocked on the door and came in. He turned off the monitors and said, "we don't need to do this because we're going to have a baby today".

He reiterated everything the specialist had said, that due to the umbilical cord issues the baby was not growing as it should and at this point it would be safer and more healthy for the baby to be born now. He asked me if I'd had lunch. Because we had to wait 8 hours from the time of my last meal to have the surgery. I was surely kicking myself for the frosty then. I asked him if we could just come back in the morning. He shook is head no. No, the hospital was already waiting for us.

All the things I didn't do were flashing through my head.
Tomorrow was Larry's birthday and Tessie was getting her tonsils out.
Friday was suppose to be maternity pictures with Ellie.
Saturday was Sara's baby shower.
Monday we were suppose to go to Disneyland for Scott's 30th birthday.
I didn't vacuum.
My house wasn't clean.
Henry's big boy room wasn't finished.
I was kicking myself for not getting a pedicure the night before like I had planned.

But there we were. Holding hands. Walking down that long corridor. Into the cold birthing center. I told them my name. They pulled my file. They put a hospital bracelet on my wrist. Reality hit and that was when I finally started crying. It finally became real. I was going to have a c-section.
Again.
That night.
And while I should have tried to focus on the baby, that I was finally going to meet my baby, my fear overwhelmed any possible excitement.



I was going to have to do it again. Even though I had done it before. Even though I knew that God had been preparing my heart for this possible outcome. Even though I knew this was the best thing for the baby. I was scared.
And I just didn't want to do it again.