I feel like there isn't much to say in the way of recounting Tamyra's birth story. I think I feel this way because there were so few unknown variables surrounding her birth. We knew the time, the place, the means of getting her out, her gender, her name...the only thing that we didn't know is how she and I would make it out of surgery and what she would look like.
Everything went exactly as planned. The surgery was scheduled to begin at 7:45am so, we (me, my husband, and my parents) arrived at the hospital at 5:30am as instructed. My parents went directly to the waiting area while I checked in and immediately went to be prepped for surgery. They monitored the baby, started my IV, and my husband and I really just tried to stay awake. We hadn't had much sleep...not because of the anticipation of the baby but, because he was having sinus issues all night and I had woken up at 2am to him trying to turn our bathroom into some type of steam bath or something.
Anyway, we hung out for quite a while, waiting on our surgery time. My doctor came and posed for pictures with my husband, which was a nice distraction. Then it was time for me to go to the operating room. Okay, I was just a little freaked out by the fact that I just walked into the OR, just like the people who were going to be cutting me open and such. When Jayla was born, I had been in labor for 13 hours and had an epidural, so they rolled me in a bed into the OR. This time it was more like, "here's a seat...why don't you just sit here on this table?". I sat. The nursed immediately put me into some kind of headlock (no warning that I remember) that made my spine curvy enough for the epidural. Immediately, my lower body started going numb to the point that I had a little difficulty bringing my legs up to actually lay down on the table.
I soon got the dreaded "I can't swallow...I am going to die right here on this table!" sensation that sent me into an absolute panic during Jayla's c-section. I was so proud of how I handled it this time though. Instead of screaming at the doctors and trying to run off the table, I just closed my eyes and focused on breathing. The anesthesiologist kept asking me if I was okay. Admittedly, as I closed my eyes to breathe, I immediately started falling asleep. My doctor finally responded to him - "oh, she's fine...her husband just kept her up all night with a sinus infection".
There wasn't much conversation going on in the operating room despite the fact that there were at least 10 people in the room. My husband held my hand the whole time and I drifted in and out of sleep. I remember some guy jumping up on my stomach to push Tamyra out. That was my clue that...hello - my second child was about to be born. I remember not hearing her cry. I remember my doctor saying, "Sorry to disturb your nap, little one!" So, I chalked the not crying up to the fact that she was sleeping. But, my husband said the doctor pulled Tamyra out, quickly showed her to him, and then handed her over so that she could be stimulated because she hadn't cried yet. And even though I still hadn't heard her cry after what seemed like forever, I wasn't worried for whatever reason. I was still focusing on not becoming hysterical over the choking sensation that the dreadful anesthesia makes me feel.
I finally heard her cry. I didn't breathe any sigh of relief. I remember the cry sounding very weak. I remember my doctor asking what her second Apgar score was, which worried me a little...because I didn't hear the answer (it was a 9). Soon, my husband was bringing Tamyra over to me. He laid her in my arms and all I saw was the enormity of her cheeks. I did not cry, though I had fully expected that I would. I was far too relieved and already rejoicing in feeling so much more comfortable in my skin than I had been in those last weeks of sharing my body with her. I tried to figure out who she looked like - with no luck. We stared at each other for an eternity before they took her away and took me to recovery.
