Aria's Birth

I just remember being calm. Friday we awoke and a solid plan was in place, all we had to do was put it in motion. Everyone was informed, all parties were prepared, it was just a matter of forward progress. A typical day for Roland, except we were both taking him to school. My mom would later pick him up and bring him to the hospital to meet his new brother or sister. Mom drove with us and snapped photos of me, enormously pregnant riding beside my one-and-only in the back seat.

Afterwards we went home, changed cars, prepped car seats and headed back to the hospital. It was...calm. I couldn't have anything to eat or drink since midnight, so you'd think I was starving, but I was fine. I'm a water-addict so I was thirsty, but it was probably nerves fueling me. Brian and I left the house early so we could stop at the Boarders to pick up newspapers and magazines for the time capsule. I remember going through the Wendy's right there on West End because Brian was starving - and emphatically agreeing that he should eat because no one knew when he'd get a chance for another meal.

Checking-in to have a baby is odd. No other word could probably better equate the posturing. Meeting with a receptionist, filling out forms and paperwork, getting wrist bands, waiting to be called back. Idle time. My mom arrived and was a source of conversation, and we snapped some fun photos:

From the non-existent waiting room we were escorted back to a prep room (looked like any other room). It started to become a bit of a fiasco here. Seemingly simple with the changing of clothes and hooking up to machines, but of course, there as a new data system for storing information and what should have taken one nurse 5 minutes became an hour long ordeal with 4 or 5 nurses. We met with the different staff who would be performing the different parts of the procedure. Asking them difficult but intelligent questions. But about the 3rd time the nurse asked me if I smoked cigarettes I started to shut down. I'm not sure what is was, but Brian stepped in and saved me. I can't even remember what was happening, I just got really tired and decided to let go...

That's me, a little out of it and moments away from just passing out...I'm grinning at Brian

Finally, with all that mess behind us, Dr. Draughn arrived. What a breath of fresh and familiar air. Never condescending, always respectful and confident, a realist, he walked us through the next steps. Here we said goodbye to my mom and they wheeled me away. Brian would join me in the procedure room in the near future.

By some strange chance, I am responsible for coordinating the professional photography of the projects my firm completes - so I have spent hours and hours in hospitals staging and photographing spaces such as the room I entered. I just remember this one was so BRIGHT. I introduced myself to each of the persons attending, taking note of each job and name. It's almost comical how quickly you get over being naked amongst strangers in that setting, and boy do I have a private story about that, but before you know it I'm cradling Valva (Russian) getting a spinal block and soon there after can only participate through wit and smiles.

Meanwhile, Brian, in scrubs, is waiting in an empty hallways wondering what the hell happened and where everyone was...only a small chair outside some double doors accompanies him. When suddenly Dr. Draughn approaches, casually sits down and starts putting on his booties. "So if you're here I'm in the right place?" He's got a sense of humor, just fairly dry.

They ask if you want special music played to relax you...of course I reply, "whatever helps you enjoy the job." The lovely plastic contraption that is heating my body is heavenly and I am thrilled to finally see Brian by my side. Dr. Draughn is awesome. A perfect conductor, with steady eyes and a easy style that just instills calmness to the entire room.

I wish I could see the surgery, but they prefer it otherwise. After Roland, Brian isn't interested to see them cut me open again and opts to lock eyes with me and talk me through it. I'm intent on catching glimpses off the glass in the lights, but all I see is blurred reflections of the caped heads. The tugging and pulling begins as the open the cavity, split my abdominal wall and cut open the uterus. The entire staff was so excited to hear that this was a surprise birth, meaning we didn't know the sex. They told Brian he would be the one to announce it to the room, which just heightened the anticipation. Everyones excitement just added to my own, although I knew we were having a little boy.

When Dr. Draughn finally pulled out Aria's head, she instantly started screaming (so different from Roland) so it was kind of a shock to us. However, you can't tell the sex of the baby by the pipes so slowly but surely the doctor kept pulling this screaming child into the world saying "Almost, almost, a little further, there we are." Brian's voice was something I've never heard in my life, "It's a girl." Not loud, but not hushed, just awe. Plus, did I mention the baby crying? Now I'm concerned, and all I can say is, "Is she alright? Why is she crying so much?" Everyone assures me this is good thing and they take her to the weight scale: 8 lbs. 4 oz. Perfect. She is pronounced Aria Lucinda Throop and away she and Dad go. Now if I was calm before, I was in a state of bliss now. Lying there, getting stitched up I felt like hugging everyone in the room if I could and was thanking each and every person for their job well done. And especially those warm plastic blower things. Ah....

More tomorrow...