Motion Sickness:Clark Day - October 23rd, 2007

Clark Day

Clark D. was born October 16th, 2007

Posted by 10/23/2007

I recently took part in the birth of a child, my own son, Clark. My wife had a C-section, and I attended the procedure. Clark weighed in at 9 pounds 3 ounces. Herein is a brief narrative of the events of the day.

Arrival

The operation is scheduled for 7:30, so we have to show up at the hospital at 5:30. Once we are there they hook up Kathy (my wife) to a contraction monitor and fetal heart-rate monitor.

The heart rate monitor is a worrisome thing at times - because the rate is so variable. When it goes up to the 160s you think "is the baby freaking out?" - when it goes down to the 120s you think "is he slowly dying?". And it keeps going between those extremes - with moments of stability around 140.

My wife is hooked up to an I.V. with fluids as well. A nurse comes in the room and asks a lot of questions - and has us fill out a lot of forms. Maybe 20. With informational packets too. Soon I am sitting there with a big mound of papers.

The Controversy Involving Water

Somewhere in here they ask Kathy if she has had any food or water since midnight. She says no to the food, but she did have a few drinks of water 4 hours ago. There is much controversy about this.

"Oh, I'm going to have to ask the anesthesiologist about that. It should be fine, but..."

Later someone else comes in "So I heard you had some water last night. Well, it should be fine, but we'll have to ask about that..."

They tell us when the I.V. reaches the halfway mark (half empty or half full, depending on how you look at things) it will be time to wheel her back to the operating room. They give me a bundle of clothes with the phrase "And you get to wear this wonderful outfit". Little did I know it was an intelligence test.

So the I.V. reaches the half-way point and they wheel my wife away. "Put the outfit on and we'll come and get you in 15 minutes". I try to get this outfit on, but I encounter difficulties.

The first problem is with the shoe coverings. They look like they have the shape of a shoe, but they don't seem to fit over my shoes. It takes a while for me to figure out they have holes in them that my feet are supposed to go through.

Wardrobe Difficulties

Then there is the hat, which is pretty easy to put on, but involves tying a knot with a small amount of string - which is not one of my skills because I have unwieldy hands. So it takes me quite a bit more time than it would take your normal human being.

The most difficult piece though is the surgical mask. This is one of those things you see on T.V. - a sort of square with strings coming from each of the four corners. Should be easy right?

Well, I just don't understand this. I go through a process that reminds me of putting on a tie. I'm trying to find the right degree of slack and the best place to start. So I try, undo everything and abandon, then try again, undo everything and start again etc... My approach is to tie the 2 pairs in roughly the same place toward the back of my neck. This seems to inevitably lead to one of them being very loose, and one of them being very tight. So tight that it feels like if I pull it up over my mouth something will break.

I'm still trying to figure thing this out when they come in and say - "okay, it's time - you don't need to tie the mask yet" or something to that effect. So I leave it alone for the time being, and they walk me to this little miniature child's chair sitting lonely in a hallway next to 2 big aluminum doors. It's a strange plastic chair that seems the right size for a 3 year old.

On either side of me are big cabinets full of medicine. In front of me are 3 sinks with these foot pump soap dispenser things set up. People are milling about. Occasionally someone speaks to me. "Congratulations. Is this your first?" People come by and obsessively wash their hands, without touching anything.

The Waiting is the Hardest Part

At some point the doctor who will actually perform the operation shows up. She asks me "Are you ready? So I start to pull up the mask and stand up, but then she says "It's not time yet, I was just checking". She will do this to me 2 more times. I guess she likes messing with me.

So I try to practice pulling up the mask for when I have to do it for real, and the strings on it snap, just as I feared. I've broken the surgical mask I need to wear to proceed to the operating room. I feel pretty stupid. I keep messing with it. Lying it across my face trying to get it at least half on. I'm positive I look like a buffoon. And I feel certain it will not be good enough for the operating room - and maybe I'll miss everything.

Eventually, I find someone that looks official and ask them if I could please "have a new one of these things". They say "Sure" and hand me another one, but I really haven't figured this whole thing out. I'm afraid I'm going to break it again. It's very likely. I'm still tying it wrong.

I manage to get it sort of on - my way - it's real tight and it might snap at any point - but it has the semblance of being on. I realized later I should have tied one pair up high on my head, and one pair low on my neck. That's even how I picture it if I try to channel it from my collective T.V. memory. But I'm not good at tying things, remember, and the top of my head was already spoken for with the hat anyway.

At some point the anesthesiologist (sp?) walks by and says my wife is doing great and "took the spinal well" or something like that. The doctor asks me "Are you ready?" again. I start to get up again and she says "Just checking". Again.

Then she asks "So I heard Kathy had some water last night, what's that all about?" And I tried to explain that when we take the pets to the vet for surgery they always tell us to make sure they don't eat - but they say water is fine. So we assumed it was the same for humans. Somehow it came out, after translation, as "The Vet told us so", which was not actually what I said or meant to say.

"Cause the vet told you?..."

"No ..." and I once again mumble an attempt at an explanation, and I think she understands. But my wife later told me the doctor went in and said "Your husband says you drank water last night cause the vet said it was alright..." Jeesh. As if we called the vet the night before and asked or something.

The Procedure

Anyway, so I walk in the operating room. To my left are the 3 women in yellow robes I will call the 'watchers'. I was told earlier that they are always there - at every C-section ever - since the beginning of time - observing. Not actually since the beginning of time. I'm making that part up. But they seem like strangely religious figures to me. Or figures from a Greek play or something.

To my right, my wife is on an operating table. All I can see is her head and arms, which are tied down and out to her sides, in the crucifix pose. They have set up a 3 foot high partition under her head that serves as a barrier so that neither I nor she can see anything going on in the actual surgery.

Kathy is totally conscious. And seems completely normal in fact. I guess in the old days she would have been knocked out completely. But things have changed since then. I ask her how she's doing. She says fine. Everything seems to be going okay. No severe pain. No strange complications.

So I sit down next to her. A woman keeps talking to us - "He'll be here in time for Halloween. What are you going to dress him up as?" that sort of thing. A few minutes pass. There is some R & B music playing in the background and lots of people clamoring about. Behind the curtain I see the back of the head of a woman that seems to be squatting over my wife's stomach pushing - with some force. I just see her head showing signs of straining. The doctor says something like "... a little more..." and then there is this "pop" sound - and she says "I got it".

Arrival of Clark

3 seconds later the sound of an infant crying. At that moment I felt a great sense of relief - everything is okay. The doctor says "Dad, do you want to see him?" I peer over and see him, and also see my wife for a brief millisecond. It looks like a crime scene. Blood everywhere. Very unreal.

So they rush Clark over to the 3 women wearing yellow robes. They perform the sacred rituals and hand him to me. Then I walk him to the nursery. They hand him to me saying, "There are some anxious grandparents waiting in the hall". I walk toward them carrying Clark and leaving my wife to be sewn back up.

Some pictures were taken, here they are: