I just realized my last two posts sound a lot the same...it is what happens when you post months apart and don't look back as to what you have written.
Today, Claudia is three. I remember driving up to the hospital (close to two hours away) terrified. Out of my mind. We had not told our families I was having an amnio and a possible c-section that day. They still thought it was a week away. We didn't want to get their anxiety levels up, ours were bad enough.
I had rented a doppler and even in the way, on the way to the hospital, I would listen to her heartbeat.
I remember the cold, sterile room where I had the long needle inserted into my belly and they removed fluid from the baby.
I remember our wonderful doctor having to do it TWICE because the needle didn't work. I remember her saying that had never happened before and "Of course it would happen to YOU."
I remember walking up to the room and laying on the bed and getting hooked to monitors. I remember waiting, waiting, waiting for results.
I remember Claudia going NUTS in utero. I remember her turning and turning and kicking to the point I was in tons of pain. I remember watching her heart rate climb to over 220 (NOT normal) and I remember launching into full blown panic. I remember the nurse telling me it was normal. I remember arguing with her that I had nightly monitoring for 8 weeks and the highest her heart rate got was 170 and 220 was NOT normal. I remember Craig trying to call me down.
I remember them calling my doctor and her racing in, looking at the monitors, and telling me they would take the baby no matter the results of the amnio.
I remember calling my parents...so excited to tell them the baby was coming but being that they were taken so aback by it they were scared instead of happy. I had to tell them this was a GOOD thing, a planned thing...but I was so upset what I had expected to be a "HAPPY" call after Curtis' "SAD" call wasn't.
I remember Craig getting scrubs on. I remember being wheeled into surgery. I remember not asking questions because I was afraid of the answer.
I remember the needled inserted into my spine...I remember the doctors and nurses joking, talking about what they were going to do for Thanksgiving the next day.
I remember a tug. I remember MORE tugs. I remember Craig sitting next to me, talking softly and calmly, but his eyes showed his nervousness.
I remember Dr. R pulling her out and saying "There is a cord." (meaning a cord issue. She was wrapped up, a lot, in her cord. Again. Another baby with a cord issue. Why her heart rate had climbed).
I remember her cry. I remember saying "I want her to keep crying". I remember looking to my right and seeing her under the warming lights.
The first feeling? Not an overwhelming sense of love. Or happiness.
I felt relief. RELIEF. She was here, She was alive. And for the first time in about 17 months, a deep breath I took.
Falling in absolute love came about an hour later when I got to hold her before she spent the rest of the day in the NICU being monitored. I was okay with her NICU time. I was thrilled someone else was caring for her, watching her. It had been exhausting being the only one to care for her 24 hours a day. And not being able to physically see her.
I fall more in love with her everyday.