A Detailed Outline of the Day of My C-Section Surgery
The night before my C-Section was a journey of hope and fear. The drive to the hospital was quiet. Everyone was lost in their thoughts, silently praying for the surgery to go well. We all hoped for the same thing: that the baby and I would stay safe and healthy. We were all eagerly anticipating the moment our little bundle of joy would finally be in our arms.
The hospital loomed large as we arrived at 4:30 am, embodying all the classic, somber hospital vibes—sad, dreadful, and devoid of positivity. The eerie emptiness and weird atmosphere sent shivers down my spine. At least it was clean and didn't have that typical hospital smell.
Due to the nature of my C-section and the complications I faced, I was automatically assigned a private room. My in-laws were asked to wait in the waiting room until after the delivery. They hugged me and showered me with blessings before Yash and I moved on to the check-up room. The pre-surgery check up room was a shared space with about five other pregnant women, each area divided by curtains for privacy.
The nurse came in and started her routine—hooking me up to antibiotics and glucose. The baby's heartbeat was constantly monitored.
As the nurse reviewed my medical history, she asked, "How many times were you rushed to the emergency?"
"Umm... none," I replied. She was shocked. Despite having stage 4 placenta previa, I hadn't experienced any bleeding.
After some more tests, I was given saline water—another form of antibiotics to gulp down. And oh boy, my body did not like the taste. Before I could warn the nurse, I threw up all over my hospital gown and bed. Embarrassing! The nurse reassured me it was normal and that I wasn’t the only one who reacted that way.
After a whirlwind of check-ups, around 7:15 am, it was time! Contrary to what I'd seen in movies, they didn’t take me on a stretcher or even a wheelchair. Yash had to push the glucose tower connected to me as I walked across the hall in my hospital gown.
"You are my rock, nothing will go wrong. You are my strong babe," Yash kept reassuring me. I know he was scared too. His words were a lifeline, even though I could see the worry in his eyes.
We waited outside the delivery room. I was the first delivery of the day and one of the first of the year, given it was only January 2nd. They made me sit outside for about five minutes while they prepped. I started shivering—it was so cold.
"Khakhar, Vishakha?" the nurse called out.
"Yeeep, that's m...me," I replied, shivering. I was asked to sit on a stretcher so thin I swear I would fall off if I turned.
Step 1 was spinal anesthesia. The nurse asked me to hold her hand and squish it tight because it was going to hurt. Here's the thing with me—if you warn me, I’ll prepare myself so well that it really doesn't hurt. And it didn’t! I told you, Yash calls me his strongest rock.
I was then asked to lay down. They added a tube for urine as my bottom half was completely numb. I couldn't feel a thing.
Step 2 was drawing a curtain near my face so I couldn’t see the rest of my body (how I wish I could). Yash sat near by my side behind the curtain too, so even he couldn’t see anything.
"Do you have a camera phone?" a nurse asked Yash.
"Yes," he replied.
"Please unlock your phone and hand it over," and the nurse took his phone. She spent the entire time clicking pictures of the surgery, and I am so glad she did that. Such beautiful (and gross) memories.
Step 3, and the team got started and kept informing me about what they were doing. In about ten minutes, they were ready to get the baby out. This is the only time I felt the most amount of pressure. It felt like a bulldozer was going over my belly. It was just the doctors’ hands diving in to get the baby out.
In literally twelve minutes of being in the surgery room, the doctor said, "Omg, your baby is pouting," followed by Shay's cry.
Yash and I just exchanged looks, and for the first time ever, we had nothing to say. Our baby girl was here. The operation was a success. I was alive, and our baby was fine and alive.
The overwhelming joy, relief, and love that washed over us in that moment was indescribable. Tears welled up in our eyes as we heard Shay's first cries. Our hearts were overflowing with emotions. After months of anticipation, worry, and endless prayers, she was finally here. We were parents.
They cleaned her up a little and showed us a quick glance. She was still crying, and Yash looked at me with pure love and amazement in his eyes. I have seen him look at me with love, but this very moment it was the maximum.
"Shay is here, our Shay is here. She is prettier than I imagined," Yash whispered, his voice breaking with emotion. He held my hand tightly, both of us feeling a mix of relief, joy, and an overwhelming sense of responsibility.
The nurses swaddled her like a tiny burrito and handed her to Yash. While the doctors were still stitching me up, Yash and I spent those precious moments admiring her. Her tiny fingers, her soft skin, and her cute little nose—it was all perfect.
Then I noticed, "OMG! She doesn't have eyebrows? Where are her eyebrows?" I exclaimed in a panic. "Babe, check if she has all her fingers?"
Yash looked at me in disbelief, "What do you mean check her fingers?"
"She doesn't have eyebrows! Omg, she will need eyebrow tinting! But we can't do that to babies, or even kids. So until she grows to a certain age, she will be made fun of! Omg! Doctor, where are her eyebrows?" I was frantic.
When I look back, I can’t believe I was panicking about her eyebrows! It was the funniest thing, really. The doctors and nurses assured me it was normal for newborns, but in that moment, I was beside myself with worry.
After what felt like both an eternity and a mere moment, they finished stitching me up and moved us to the recovery room. Yash carried Shay with the gentleness of a father who just met his most precious treasure. I was wheeled in, still numb from the waist down but my heart bursting with emotions.
This blog deserves another part because I realize it’s getting too long and my little babe is screaming her lungs out. Sleepy head! To be continued with post-delivery recovery, learning how to breastfeed, and struggles with producing milk.
I promise I won’t keep you waiting for the next one.
See you soon!
Xoxo,
Vishakha
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