The Story of Our Second Baby

by Alison Friedman in All In The Family, Amazing Arielle, Baby Land

After things were settled when Madelyn was born, I wrote up the story of her birth while it was still fresh in my mind. None of her story had been written before she arrived since it was all being created in the moments as the events actually happened. This time, though, the story was mostly blueprinted and predictable, with only the smallest details missing. What a completely different experience to go into a birth with almost all of the events planned ahead.

We woke up Wednesday morning with a jumble of emotions. Madelyn was super excited. Bryan was super excited. I was super… nervous. I tend to shut down and get quiet when big things are about to happen, so I was pretty out of it; numb, even. We took one last glimpse of the baby’s room before it would be filled with an actual baby.

Ready to go out the door and had to take one last photo of Madelyn as the youngest princess of the house. Confession: I cried when I took this picture.

Ready to go out the door and had to take one last photo of Madelyn as the youngest princess of the house. Confession: I cried when I took this picture.

We dropped off Princeton at doggy day camp where I emotionally said goodbye. He’s always my consistent and calming furry pile of love, and I wished more than anything I could smuggle him into the hospital.

When we arrived at the hospital, the first thing I saw was this sign at the entrance where the valet station is. I hoped that the quality of surgery was better than the spell checking. I chuckled to myself, which left me in stitches. The stitches before the stitches. Har har.

Valet parking goes with bad spelling like peanut butter and jelly... spaghetti and meatballs... a pregnant teacher and a red pen

Valet parking goes with bad spelling like peanut butter and jelly… spaghetti and meatballs… a pregnant teacher and a red pen

And my last dose of Vitamin D and natural light was with this cutie.

We are holding hands, but you can't see me white knuckling on her hand because nerves.

We are holding hands, but you can’t see me white knuckling on her hand because nerves.

Because I’m overdramatic, I had a lot of moments where I said “This is our last X without a new baby…” From the time we arrived until the time the baby arrived, I made my last self-made, unassisted pee, sent my last text message (shout out to Krissy Winters), felt my last belly kick… Life as we knew it would soon be over and I was marking everything I did as a final milestone before writing our new chapter. It all makes sense in my head, but it’s very possible that this incessant thought pattern requires heavy therapy. I don’t know.

After I was all set up in my pre-op room, we had one last moment of time as a family of three and I. Lost. My. Shit. I stood up to hug Madelyn goodbye and I burst — more like imploded — into tears and it was not my best mom moment because even though it was 100% out of love and a little bit out of fear and guilt, but mostly love, all Madelyn saw were the tears coming out of my eyes and then as if right on cue, she cried too, and then we were both snotty, sobbing messes. Because she was upset from seeing me upset/happy/scared out of my mind/mostly happy, she wouldn’t take a photo with us before I headed to the operating room, so that’s the story of how I single handedly ruined our very last moment as a family of three.

Then I walked down to the operating room and that’s weird because the last time I was in the O.R., I was also a hysterical ball of emotions, but I was wheeled down because I had no feeling despite having allllll the feelings. This time, I still had all the feelings, but could walk… nervously with heart palpitations because I was moments away from being cut open while awake and trusting a man with a long needle to make sure I wouldn’t feel a pinch.

Meanwhile, back in Normal People Land, Bryan suited it up for the big show before leaving the big sister with the grandparents to wait.

Meanwhile, back in Normal People Land, Bryan suited it up for the big show before leaving the big sister with the grandparents to wait.

The O.R. was cold, just as I remembered, and I sat on the table where my new daughter would be born just 45 minutes later, and I was given instructions about what to do to receive my spinal block, but all I heard from the anesthesiologist was Charlie Brown’s teacher’s voice: “Wah wah wah waaaaaah wah waaaaaah wah wah wah waaaaaah.” Between the nerves, the chills, and his mask that covered any possible audible sound, I seriously had no idea what was going on and my brain was numb as I just went with the flow of the procedure. I didn’t love it. This particular anesthesiologist was not as quick and smooth as the one who did the job with Madelyn’s birth. I felt lots of pressure and aches and what felt like hammering into my back. Good times. He kept asking me if I could feel things and I thought long and hard about my answers because they determined my fate and comfort. Pinch or pressure — two options I don’t want to have to choose from again.

But then it all went cold and heavy and the connections my brain made to my legs stopped working and the wonderful nurses did all my body manipulation for me. I would say there’s nothing more humbling than other people having to lift your gigantic body a few inches while you lie there helpless and unable to move a molecule, but I’d be wrong because… post partum care.

Then the stars of the show arrived: the doctors. It was a reunion of many kinds because assisting Dr. Replacement was my beloved and long lost Dr. Fiiiine! She had told me that even though she wouldn’t be able to be my obstetrician for this pregnancy since she was no longer doing OB, she could still assist in surgeries, so we worked it out that she could be there. She hadn’t done any deliveries since she stopped OB in December, so the whole O.R. gang was happy to see her back in her old stomping grounds. So was my uterus.

After what felt like decades, Bryan finally came into the room, the music started to play, and things got started. I had no idea what was going on despite requesting a mirror. Oh yes, minor detail: I asked for a mirror so I could see… stuff. People thought I was nuts, but I really don’t know how seeing a baby come out of your incised belly is any different than seeing a baby come out of your war zone vagina, which plenty of non c-section women do. The good news is that the angle of the mirror plus the action of the doctors prevented me from being able to see myself get cut open, so that’s probably a good thing. But minutes later, I heard Dr. Fiiiine say, “Oh, she has lots of hair and she’s a cutie!” and I knew the big moment was about to happen.

You see, with Madelyn’s birth, I felt very disconnected. In a state of confusion, I was horizontal on the table while a baby was excavated from my cavity. I would have felt that way with this one, too, if I didn’t have a mirror because inches in front of my nose was a blue drape that went as high and wide as I could see. My arms were out to my side, my eyes only reached so far peripherally, and all I could hear was white noise of medical equipment instead of play-by-play conversation that I could tell everyone else was having around me. The mirror, though, helped make sense of what was going on in the O.R. and brought me into the inner circle a little bit more, like I was sitting at the cool kids’ table. So when Dr. Fiiiine remarked that she could see the baby, I could feel the official Mother-of-Two moment was near.

TA DA! Dr. Fiiiine holds mah bay-bay in her very own Lion King moment.

TA DA! Dr. Fiiiine holds mah bay-bay in her very own Lion King moment.

At 1:00 on the dot, I saw her emerge and it was the most amazing thing. I saw Dr. Fiiine lift her up with her umbilical cord still dangling and attached to me, and I felt so connected to her arrival, ironically, as they disconnected her from me. I heard — and saw! — her cry, and watched as their hands dashed to prepare her for her next moments. The mirror was taken away, which was acceptable, because I did not need to see the rest of the procedure where they put me back together like Humpty Dumpty, and Bryan and the nurses brought the baby to me and I could see her inches away from my eyes and felt her on my chest where I was able to kiss her on the head.

Bryan literally cuts the cord. He will figuratively do it again when she's 32 and sleeping on our couch.

Bryan literally cuts the cord. He will figuratively do it again when she’s 32 and sleeping on our couch.

Hi. I'm your mommy.

Hi. I’m your mommy.

Cliche c-section awkward first family photo with shower caps and an upside down mother.

Cliche c-section awkward first family photo with shower caps and an upside down mother.

We spent a few moments together before Bryan left with her to go to the nursery. I remember tearing up because the moment felt very defined just as I imagined it would: BOOM. Now I had a second daughter. BOOM. Madelyn was a sister. BOOM. Life changed and I’d never experience pregnancy again and this stage of my life was officially over.

The rest of the surgery was pretty routine and boring. Unlike last time, this c-section had no bouts of nausea and vomiting, and no complications due to bleeding, so I wasn’t preoccupied with discomfort or fear. Instead, I was laying there and wondering what was going on in the nursery with the baby.

I found out later that everything in the nursery went fine and the baby took all her poking and prodding and washing like a champ. The proud grandparents and big sister watched it all through the windows as they got their first glimpses of the new member of our family.

Pride.

Pride.

Someone's excited to be a big sister.

Someone’s excited to be a big sister.

Who doesn't love baby feet?

Who doesn’t love baby feet?

The baby and Bryan met up with me in my recovery room and the three of us bonded and exchanged a lot of “I can’t believe its” and “This is so weirds” and we stared at our new baby and marveled at the fact that everything was different and this was our new chapter to write together.

Madelyn came in the room shortly after to meet her sister and it was an amazing moment. She had seen the baby from afar through the nursery viewing area, but this was their first encounter. We made sure the baby was in her little isolette so that Madelyn could see me with empty hands that were all for her hugs. I was so glad to see my number one girl and I told her I was OK and that I was so glad she was a big sister. Then we officially introduced her to her sister and Madelyn was over the moon. The proud grandparents joined us afterward, and they were all giddy with anticipation to see the baby up close and hear her name. Madelyn had the honors of doing the big reveal and she told them that her baby sister’s name was Arielle Jane Friedman. We told them it was Arielle because we liked it, and Jane was in memory of my Grandpa, Jules, who passed away 23 months ago. Collective “awwww”s rang out, and it felt so good to officially link this baby to our family.

We got settled in our new room that would be our home for four days. I spent the rest of the day nuzzling Arielle, learning her every body part, and connecting to begin breastfeeding together. I dozed on and off while people took turns holding her. The family stayed with us and our magical time in the hospital cocoon that I remembered so tenderly from last time was beginning.

After months of not knowing how I'd welcome a new little love in my life, it felt really good to have her in my arms.

After months of not knowing how I’d welcome a new little love in my life, it felt really good to have her in my arms.

I got sunshine on a cloudy day. I even got the month of May. Talkin' 'bout my girls.

I got sunshine on a cloudy day. I even got the month of May. Talkin’ ’bout my girls.

Baby's first family reunion.

Baby’s first family reunion.

Perhaps one of the greatest moments of Arielle’s birth day was at the end of the evening, before going home with Mimi and Poppa, Madelyn sat on a chair and held her little sister. It was the scene everyone warned me about: the emotional satisfaction of seeing your first born with your new baby, and the bonds beginning to build. As an only child, I have no idea what this experience is like on either end of the birth order, but as a mother, it was extremely satisfying, rewarding, and delightful. I looked at Madelyn and Arielle together and knew that my life’s greatest works were right in front of me. At 31, I peaked.

Alllllll the feels. All of them.

Alllllll the feels. All of them.

At 39 weeks and one day, the day that Arielle arrived was a roller coaster. I went in as ball of nerves and finished as a puddle of mush. I felt guilt and fear and discomfort and happiness. It was a hard day of, literally, doing nothing but experiencing everything. Compared to Madelyn’s birth day, Arielle’s was medically relaxed and predictable and the scheduled, repeat c-section was a breeze considering what it had been for me in 2011. And now, after almost five weeks of Arielle, it’s all slowly becoming a blur so I am rushing to write down my thoughts and experiences from the day she was born. We’ve been busy, learning about life together and Arielle fits in quite nicely with our family.

She’s ours for keeps.

My people forever.

My people forever.

  1. Mimi
    4/7/2015 10:55 PM

    So HAPPY to be a part of that wonderful day! The events of the day could not have gone any smoother. It was perfect. Arielle is perfect!
    I am looking forward to watching my 2 beautiful granddaughters grow up & thrive & just having tons of fun with both of them. LOVE!!
    Welcome to the world, Arielle Jane! R E L 😉
    Mimi LOVES you!!!

  2. Donna Vlassich
    4/7/2015 5:22 PM

    absolutely beautifully written! Congratulations to all of you! You have been blessed with a beautiful family????