Spoonful Test Blog

Tuesday, September 17, 2013

I wish I remembered

When my son was born, I was under the influence of many, many drugs.  ...the kind they give you when you have a c section, of course.  Not the other kind that you buy on the street.

I don't remember much about meeting Gibson, but I do remember Danny saying, "It looks like a boy to me!" and seeing Gibson's chin.  There was no denying that he had my husband's chin.

And then the doctors asked what his name would be and I said, "I think Gibson Cole."  I'm glad he wasn't a girl, because we had four names chosen for a girl...and in my drugged-up state, I probably would have chosen a name without consulting with Danny.

I vaguely remember being rolled by the nursery window, where Danny held Gibson up for me to see.  I remember getting really excited that he looked just like Danny, but the nurses didn't care.  I tried to tell them how happy I was that Danny had a mini-me, but they only cared about rolling me into recovery.

Recovery is a complete blur.  My nurse asked for oxytocin to put in my IV, and I freaked out.  I remembered what Pitocin had done to me in labor, and there was no way I could go through that again...I didn't realize that it wouldn't induce contractions.  But I still freaked out.

At some point (almost two hours after he was born), Danny brought Gibson into my room.  I don't really remember this.  I remember sweating more than I have ever sweat in my life.  I remember being numb from the shoulders down.  I remember breastfeeding for the first time; I couldn't feel it because I was numb.  I remember our doula being there...and I guess she took pictures, because there are some.  And I'm really sweaty in them.

Like, really really sweaty.  No one will ever see those pictures, I'm pretty sure.

Our entire hospital stay is a vague memory.  I don't remember much of it at all, and that makes me sad.  I wish that I could remember meeting my sweet baby.  I wish that the memory of our first moment together wasn't obscured by a haze of drugs.

I'm so glad for cameras.  I'm happy that I have photographic evidence that I did, in fact, meet my son for the first time.  I look happy (albeit very high) in the photos, and so does Danny.  I just wish that I remembered.

Luckily, I have a lifetime to make memories with my boy.  He's healthy, and he's not still hanging out in my uterus.  What more could I ask for?

Inside my uterus. 

Outside my uterus!  Much cuter.

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