There's something very strange about Elective Caesarian, you get up knowing that by the end of today there will be a baby in your arms, but you have no contractions, no twinges, just this knowledge.
I was nil by mouth from ten the night before, and getting up and getting the boys dressed and breakfasted while feeling hungry and nervous was a bit wobbly.
Once they were ready and waiting for their lift to school J, Ben and I climbed into the car and drove to the hospital. We'd decided to take Ben along at this point because I needed to be at the hospital for 8am, but the section was unlikely to take pace until about 11.30 so the plan was that Ben would take me to the hospital, and leave me there, (he's much happier to leave me than to be left behind). J would drive him home, spend a bit of time with him and then come back in time for surgery.
We stopped in the car park at the hospital and J took a couple of final "bump shots"of me and the bump and Ben.
The we walked up to the ward. I was checked in, and the blood pressure tests etc started. Almost immediately we were told it was more likely to be 10.30 when I was taken to theatre, as there had been a couple of cancellations from the list.
J set off to take Ben home and come straight back. Meanwhile I changed into a gown, confirmed I had taken the Ranitidine the night before and that morning.
I was provided with surgical stockings, that were to be the bane of my life for the next few days, and shaved along and just below the bikini line.
J came back and we waited... They gave him a form to sign which told him what he was and wasn't allowed to do in theatre - basically, sit where you are told until told you can move!
Then they said they were nearly ready for me and took J off to change into scrubs.
While he was gone they came to take me down, I was given something else to take - another antacid I think - and then the bed and I were wheeled down to theatre.
There's a lot of checking of name labels and notes and so on, at this point, checking that they have the right person.
And then they transfer you to a trolley, and wheel you into anaesthetics.
I'd met the anaesthetist before and been talked through the process but again it's quite surreal.
There's a commonly held idea that all labouring women love their anaesthetists, that they are adored because they come bearing pain relief. But when you aren't actually in labour and have no pain, they simply inflict it.
I had 2 cannulas sited, one in each inner arm. Then the spinal. If you're not in labour and desperate for it there's no denying this is uncomfortable at best.
Anyway it was in. They lay me back down and it took effect.
They gave me an oxygen mask and there were a few moments' peace.
Then came the worst bit.
They wheeled me into the theatre and transferred me to the operating table/ bed. My blood pressure plummeted, I think this is quite normal, but I hadn't expected it. The room spun, I felt sick, I dragged the mask off, my whole body went into panic mode.
If I could have articulated the words "I can't do this, put me under" I would have done so.
Quickly the anaesthetist gave me something to bring my pressure back up and the world came back into focus, J joined me, I could do this after all.
"Are you ready to meet your babies?" asked the consultant.
J took my hand, "Yes" we said together....
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