It’s hard to believe that two years ago today, this little nugget came into the world. He was my third c section and my second baby in Denmark, so I knew what to expect. I was not entering into the unknown as I had with the other two. Gone was the apprehension that comes with the first, of not knowing and fearing what the pain will be like. Gone was the fear that comes with not knowing what to expect from giving birth in a system and culture that is not (completely) my own in a language I did not speak. They let me walk with my husband to the operating theater instead of being rolled, as I had been with the other two. Being rolled on a bed into an operating room has a very surreal and somewhat unnerving feel to it. Walking felt natural and I can remember our little guy kicking all the way, like he was excited to be on his way into the world. I remember saying, “I bet he comes out kicking and screaming”. The mood in the operating room was laid back. We were joking and laughing with the nurses, the anesthesiologist. It wasn’t my first rodeo. Soon enough the drugs kicked in and we were off. I had noticed that almost everyone in the room was a woman, and I knew the surgeon delivering our little guy was a woman because she’d stopped by to talk with us before the operation, so I was surprised to hear a man’s very authoritative voice. I even said, “Oh, there’s man in here.” My husband later told me that the man was clearly some kind of senior surgeon popping in for funsies and that I was not the only one who was surprised to see him. A few minutes later our little guy was born. As I predicted, he came out screaming. I had to wait to see my first two since they were whisked away for vital tests. They were returned a few minutes later all wrapped up and warm with just their little red faces peeking out for our first meeting. This little guy I got to hold immediately – all naked and new, his skin to mine – for just a few minutes before they took him away. As they laid him on my chest someone said, “Oh he’s peeing!” and I said “Oh I don’t even care.” because really I didn’t but also what was I gonna do? We snuggled for a few minutes and then he was off with the pediatric nurses and Daddy to be weighed and poked and prodded, apparently relieving himself again and spraying all the high tech medical equipment in the process. Everyone laughed. Someone commented (I like to think with admiration) “Ah, a real boy!” My husband also got to have a few minutes of skin to skin contact with him before he was swaddled and return to his very groggy but happy mama. And that’s the story of Baby Number 3’s birth.
These are a few of my favorite pictures taken in our first two weeks as a family of five. They make my heart smile.
Happy Birthday, little one!