Our Little Rainbow
I woke on the morning of 28 August 2002, with such excitement, and I remember constantly thinking, where are my nerves? The sun was shining in through our back windows and we sat down for a delicious big breakfast of pancakes... how could I eat? Don't I realize they are going to temporarily paralyze me from the waist down and cut a big hole in my stomach today? Somehow, all of the fear that I imagined would be generated by those facts was totally lost in my eager anticipation at meeting Skyia's little sister.
I went out onto our balcony, overlooking the flowing creek below, and sat to have a talk with my second daughter. I told her that today was a very big day for us both, she would be born and meet her Mummy and Daddy. She might be a little scared, but I would hold her so tight and she would soon know that she was very safe and very loved. I could feel that she heard me and was ready too.
I was packed, ready and pacing an hour before we had to leave, I just wanted to get there! We arrived at the Royal Hospital for Women, Mal, Mum and I, at 10.00am. After booking in, I had to give blood so they could check my iron levels and store some of my blood in case I needed it later. We were then shown to my room, which was really nice, with my own little bathroom and water views.
Baby T. No. 2 was moving around a lot, and I still felt so content and relaxed, even as they gave me some pre-op liquid to shower with and told me the Dr. would be coming for me in an hour. When my OB entered the room, my heart skipped a beat ... this was it, it was really going to happen! I'm sure my little angel Skyia was surrounding me with her love and giving me such strength as I almost skipped down to the Operating Theatre (as much as a heavily pregnant girl can skip!).
I was chatting away to all of the staff in there, laughing at Mal's lovely gown and cap and posing for photos just before they gave me the spinal block. That was probably the worst part, just feeling my legs slowly lose sensation ... but the anaesthetist was a beautiful man, holding my hand and explaining every little thing he was doing and telling me exactly what I'd be feeling at each step. He checked my numbness with ice and it felt so weird, but I was happy that I had no feeling ... I sure didn't want to feel what they were about to do.
They wheeled me in to the OR and put up a screen in front of me. Everyone in there was happily talking to me, Mal was holding my hand (his face looking a little stressed) and before I even knew it, I was feeling tugging and pulling sensations without any pain and I was asking "Can you see her yet?" "Nearly there", they would say and next minute I heard it. The sweetest, gurgled little sound I'd ever heard, my daughter's cry.
Tears dripped from my eyes as they lifted her over to me. I remember her looking purple and white, but she was moving and crying and I was yelling, "She's ALIVE!!" The theatre was very cold, so Mal took her over to a little bay, and the midwives and a paediatrician checked her over and wrapped her in a silver space blanket and brought her back to me. "She's perfect", they said, and as I touched her face, I could physically feel love and happiness filling my soul again, for the first time in over a year. It was magic. There in her face, I could see Skyia, similar features, but uniquely different, darker hair and more of it.
I was on the biggest high and was babbling away to the nurses in recovery where I stayed for about half an hour, and then it was back up to my room where dad had just given his daughter her first bath. His smile lit my heart as he put our little girl into my arms. After a year of rain, Shalani Hope had arrived in our lives, like a little rainbow across my heart. We were blessed that day, with more love than I'd ever imagined.
People have told me that I'm a prime candidate for post natal depression due to my past trauma, but I've had no trace of the 'baby blues', only BABY HAPPIES for me! My recovery from the surgery has been great; the nurses told me I had a very high pain threshold as most people require a lot more drugs than I did. I think I've lived with that heart-wrenching emotional pain for so long that the euphoria I felt at being happy was all the pain killer I needed. I have a thin red line right on my bikini line and when I look at it, I can only feel happy that my sweet daughter came from there - it's no big deal at all.
