And then came The Kernel

It's true what they say about time disappearing once baby arrives. It's unbelievable. Anyway, bla bla, that's my way of apologising for taking so ridiculously long to write this post.

We arrived at the hospital last Thursday night and they began the induction. I had contractions through the night and much of Friday, but by Friday evening they were slowing down. The doc tried to induce again but by Saturday morning the contractions had stopped. Time for Plan B - a caesar.


Very last bump pic - 36 weeks 1 day

So in we went.


McBand in his scrubs.

I guess I kind of thought that I had earned this idyllic birth experience after everything, but alas, twas not to be... We went into theatre and there was a nice vibe in the team. They started the spinal block and were about to get going when the anaesthetist (THANKFULLY!) saw me grimace when they did something... something I shouldn't have felt. The spinal hadn't worked. bugger. He tried again... nada.
That is not what you want to hear when you're bracing yourself for surgery. Only option was to put me under general anaesthetic. CRAP!

I guess the good thing is that I didn't have much time to think about it. Apparently I had the foresight to tell them that I wanted someone to tell me exactly what had happened the second I woke up... (as we were walking in to theatre the one sister was saying that The Kernel would DEFINITELY have to spend time in NICU etc etc - real little optimist that lady!)

Anyway, next thing I awoke to someone congratulating me and telling me that The Kernel is perfect and healthy and breathing like a champ! I of course started crying - they tried to console me til I explained that those were not sad tears!! Those were the tears of relief of 8 months of fear!

The clock in front of me read 11:30 - we'd gone in to theatre at 10.

I felt so drugged and my stomach and throat were so so sore. They wheeled me through to my room and on the way I caught a glimpse of a topless Band snuggling a little bundle. He brought the bundle to my room and this is what he brought me...


In many ways that moment I'd waited so long for is a blur. I remember being amazed at how light she was and how beautiful. I remember realising that she knew me and I knew her. I remember feeling so drugged and thinking "I should be upset about the way it happened - about the anaethetist's bugger up, about the fact that I only met her an hour and a half after she'd been born" but feeling an overwhelming sense of "I couldn't care less how it happened, she is safe!!!" Relief. Pure relief. Like breathing for the first time in 8 months. Like quenching a thirst that has reached desperate frantic proportions. All else fades. Little else matters. She is here and safe and healthy and perfect.