"One and done."
- Leah Remini, when asked if she'll ever have any more kids
For a long, long time, my husband and I subscribed to Leah Remini's way of thinking, but then we started to feel sorry for our daughter. It was clear she needed an ally.
So on June 1, 2014, we welcomed our beautiful boy, Wyatt Carter Emmett, to the family, thus evening up the parent : child ratio in our home.
His birth was supposed to be easy for me. I was to go in on June 5th for a scheduled C-section but, like everything else I've tried coordinating lately, nothing went according to plan.
I've been battling a bad cough for the last month, which sends excruciating stabs of pain throughout my mid-section and back. My non-pregnant self would have been hopped up on cough syrup at the first tickling of my throat, but that wasn't an option in my case. So I just suffered through the pain instead.
At approximately 1am on Sunday, June 1st, I was still laying awake in bed, trying my best to find a comfortable position. And then a coughing spell hit me again, complete with an audible cracking sound coming from my back. I was in excruciating pain and couldn't move.
My husband, the voice of reason in this case, insisted on taking me to the ER with the hope that doctors could relieve some of my pain from having thrown out my back.
At least that's what I thought had happened anyway.
Upon my arrival, hospital staff wheeled me up to labour and delivery. Unable to safely x-ray me, multiple doctors were instead brought in to speculate on what had happened.
First they thought I injured my back. Then they thought I cracked a rib. And then they concluded that I tore a muscle near my rib cage, which could take up to six weeks to heal. Whatever the source of my pain, all they could do was hook me up with some morphine.
Half delirious, I kept asking about when I could go home, but it just wasn't meant to be. In addition to the morphine, I was also hooked up to a fetal monitor, and it turns out my little guy's vitals had dropped and he wasn't recovering, even though the morphine was wearing off.
Because of this, the doctors didn't feel comfortable sending us home, and they instead advised that it'd be best to perform an emergency C-section that day, four days early.
And so there you have it. Nearly 14 hours after having entered the hospital for back pain, I became a new mom of two. My poor little guy had to immediately be hooked up with some Narcan to help him recover from the drugs I received, but otherwise he did just fine.
I, on the other hand, was completely unprepared. Didn't he know that I had a hair appointment booked for later that week? And a million other things to do before then? So much for all my meticulous planning.
And, just to follow up from one of my previous posts, yes, Wyatt is short. But he's also just perfect for our little family.