Behind the Curtain

I left all the gory details out of the last post, so today I'd like to describe what occurred during the actual delivery. I say gory, but honestly I didn't see anything of the actual operation. I hope this post will allay fears for anyone who may soon go through this experience.

My babies were delivered at Mount Sinai hospital in Toronto, Ontario, Canada. We chose that location because of its excellent neonatal intensive care unit (NICU), our girls being twins may very well have needed to spend time there. I'm assuming that, in general, a c-section at one hospital will be very similar to another, but keep in mind that the events I am describing took place at Mount Sinai.

Upon arrival at the hospital my wife went directly to the 7th floor triage (followed closely by the orderly with the mop and bucket). After getting her situated I was sent down to admitting where I handed over the required documents to an admin who was more interested the Olympics (which were being piped over all hospital TVs in non-critical areas) than in my situation. My arrival, being very early, took a silver medal, to obtaining coffee. Once she returned to her desk, still droopy eyed, but carrying her stimulant, she informed me that we had just won a metal (I'm still not sure if it was Canada or Granada that had won, though I had her repeat it several times), handed me the admitting docs and sent me back up to the 7th floor.

By the time I returned, my wife was resting comfortably. There was the steady rhythmic beat coming from the heart monitors. Thin wire tentacles snaked over my wife's belly ending in connectors that were secured by baby blue and pink straps (it was completely irrational, but I was annoyed with the use of blue straps). Nurses ran in and out checking a multitude of things, re-arranging the heart rate connectors, because the twins were so active, going over my wife's medical history, probing her while simultaneously pressing down on her belly (an uncomfortable action that was need to check her cervical dialation) all the while assuring her (and me) that everything was going well. Before to long she was wheeled out of triage, with me in tow. I was handed a gown, hat, and cloth booties then deposited in a nook while my wife was carried through the OR door. I was informed it would only be a matter moments. I put on my booties (grateful for them because I had mistakenly worn my good sneakers to an operation), and my hat. I removed my t-shirt and put on the gown. It was not necessary to remove any clothing, however, I was planning on skin to skin time with the twins which could have been accomplished by either removing my shirt or just slipping the girls under it (also I had mistakenly worn a nice shirt which would have been transformed into the Shroud of Turin if I had tried to hold a little one against my skin).

After about a 20 minute wait I was invited through the door. The scene that greeted me was controlled chaos (to my eyes). There were dozens of people in my view all gowned and talking quietly to one another. My wife lie on a table shaped much like a gingerbread man. I could only see the top half of her body, the lower half was hidden from view by a large sheet strung between two IV poles. She was gowned, and wore the same little cap as I did. Her arms were spread and strapped to the arms of the gingerbread man. To me she looked very pale. She was numb from the waist down. I knew she was scared. There was a stool placed for me by her head, positioned at the edge of the curtain. If I had had the desire I could have peeked around the edge, but chose not to. The partner, is in fact permitted to watch the birth, but I'm not sure if it was simply by leaning around or if you stood at the surgeon's elbow. The patient can also watch the birthing process in strategically placed mirrors, or so we were told in our prenatal class. Neither my wife nor I asked where the mirrors were located. Though it was an effective line of sight blocker, the sheet did nothing to block sound. I could hear the doctor speaking of where he would cut. I spent every moment after that whispering encouragement to my wife, or discussing banal topics, anything to keep her from hearing the doctor's conversation. The spinal eliminates pain, but my wife could still feel tugging and pulling. Eventually, through the din I heard someone say here comes the first. Then I heard a baby scream, my wife did too, because she said "Oh!" and started to cry. Our first visual of twin A was of an open mouthed little girl who looked as if she had been submerged in a mud bath. Her arms and legs were spread as wide as hey could go and she was screaming louder than I thought would have been possible from such a small thing. In my mind I remember her dangling by one arm from the nurse's grasp and carrying a spear in her free hand (though I looked for it afterwards I found no evidence that she had been carrying a weapon at birth). The little, noise-making package was placed upon my wife's chest for immediate skin to skin time (half naked dad was denied) and then whisked off for assessment. Twin B took her place seconds later. Where A was crying and angry, B was quiet and searching. She was so quiet in fact that I worried she was not well. She, too, after a brief moment with mommy (again daddy was denied) was removed for assessment. I told my wife how proud I was, how beautiful she is, and what beautiful babies she makes.

It was finally daddy's time to shine. I was lead to a small warming tables where our babies rested, and invited to cut the cords. I'm not sure if it was purely symbolic, because neither of the babies were attached to mommy any longer. With a pair of scissors I cut what looked like a double clamped, short stub of sausage casing sticking up where my little girl's belly button would some day be. After both were snipped, I was asked to diaper the girls...then I was asked to diaper them again, only this time properly. One of the nurses was kind enough to show me a proper diapering technique (no I was not using cloth diapers, and yes I was unable to strap on a disposable the first time through). With those duties complete, I remembered my job, and asked about the APGAR scores for each.

The rest of the procedure lasted about 40 mins and was uneventful (from our point of view, the doctors all still seemed to be doing things however). We were eventually wheeled into a recovery room...and finally to the private room where we would complete our stay.

I'd love to tell you more, but I honestly don't remember. The days in the hospital afterwards are all a blur of sleepless night's spent staring at the girls, fearful that they might simply disappear at any moment. Now that we are home, with feeding every 3 hours, we still are not sleeping well (though at least I am in a bed now and not on the hospital floor), but we no longer worry that the girls were just a dream, I can actually walk out of the room they are in now, and I'm no longer worried that they won't be there when I get back. That's an improvement...small, but a definite improvement, and it's proof positive that everything will eventually be ok.