C-sections are an interesting thing. Not that I have vaginal births to compare it to, but surreal is really the only word I can say describes it. It's major surgery, but you're awake; not only are you awake, you're technically numb but as one doctor pushes down on your stomach and the other one pulls you can actually feel a body being taken from yours. That description might sound gory to some, but it felt like a miracle in the making to me. Now, I say "awake" loosely. I had so much medicine pumped into me that I drifted in and out of consciousness during time it took the doctors to take her from me, and gratefully for most of the post-delivery where I was being sewn up. I heard her first cry, which made me cry. It's indescribable to anyone because it's such a personal experience, but to hear your child take his or her first breath is a feeling that no word can justly explain.
Fast forward to when I was wheeled back upstairs, that's where I got to hold her for the first time. They held her to me to kiss her cheek in the OR, but after she was born they sent her and Bill back up to the room together to wait for me. If I thought I loved her that instant, it was quickly superseded by the next instant, and the next, and the next... I am to the point now where I can't seem to stop holding and kissing her. Her existence is a miracle to us, one we weren't ever sure would come to fruition.
I could type forever trying to feel like I've justly described how perfect and amazing she is, but what I feel can't be put into words. My doctor described this pregnancy as a "premium pregnancy," meaning that we wanted her so badly, and it was such a hard road to even become pregnant, and once pregnant we had to do so much to stay pregnant that the manner in which she was delivered was a no brainer. We'd come that far, why risk anything? I couldn't agree more. While I was pregnant I'll admit that I wondered if I'd ever want to do this again, but it took only that instant when I first saw her to think to myself "it was all worth it." A cliche phrase to most I know, but truly I would go through another 39 weeks of three shots a day to my stomach, the four blood sugar checks, the countless doctor's appointments, the IVs, epidural, etc. if in the end it meant I got...Ava.
Well, I have only a couple of hours until her next feeding so I'd better catch some sleep. By the way, when she's old enough to get the talk about boys and which ones to invest in and which to avoid, I'll just point to her dad as the example. Bill has been, and is, the unsung hero throughout everything. People look to the woman and yes, we give our bodies for the sake of our children, but husbands like Bill are in the background making life as easy as possible for us. They're tying our shoes, washing our feet when we're too big to reach them ourselves, they're encouraging us through the good, bad and scary. They're taking turns with diaper changes, feedings, more diaper changes after they either poop right after being changed or throw up. It never feels like he's helping me, he makes it feel like we're helping each other for the sake of our family. We always say "team McClain," and we mean it.
All our love.
