All the ultrasound techs were right. Bobo is a boy.
He's a great boy too. I had thought that the scheduled c-sectioin would be very convenient but I was certain I wouldn't get much sleep the night before wondering about it. Fortunately, Bobo came on Sunday instead of Monday rendering my fears moot. I started bleeding Sunday morning. I woke up in a pool of my own blood and woke my husband up, called my doctor's office (come right in to L&D) and then my mother-in-law to come sit on our child. She got there fast (and I don't think she washed, dressed, or brushed).
It was quick, quick, quick from there. I got to the hospital about 2 minutes before 7 am on Sunday morning, and Bobo was yanked from me (screaming his fool head off) at 9:11 am. I was relieved. Chuckles was not born breathing, let alone crying, so the cries, although they were frantic and make a mother's heart ache, were music to my ears. His Apgars were excellent (9 and 10) and the nurses mentioned that the neonatalogist who saw us rarely gives out 10s in case something happens later the parents don't feel misled.
My husband went with Bobo to do the bath, Vitamin K, eye goop, weighing stuff, and I went to Post-Anesthesia recovery. Then, I was off to my private room to wait to see my baby (during the lull, I made a few phone calls and boy were people surprised since this was a day earlier than planned and I guess I sounded coherent only 2 hours later). Unlike with Chuckles who was whisked away in a hurry, I got to see Bobo in the operating room. We even took some pictures of a nurse hanging a baby over my head.
Epidural/Spinal anesthesia often causes a dip in blood pressure. Since I run toward cadaver all the time, mine of course, dipped. I wasn't worried. Neither was Tim the nurse anesthetist at my procedure. He said if I had come in with normal blood pressure (120 over 80, maybe) and he saw the numbers I was putting up (88 over 44), there would be cause for concern but with my history, we'll just give you a little something for that, no worries.
It took a team of people laying on my stomach and pulling from the bottom to get Bobo out and all they said was "big head!" (so c-section is a winner!). Bobo is on my lap right now wearing the outfit my husband wore home from the hospital 34 years ago this week.
I'm also printing the birth announcements from one of the other computers here in our bunker (somehow our family room went from romper room to mission control with the addition of a 1950s-era filing cabinet and two new laptop computers). I spent the early afternoon in a sunny window trying to snap a birth announcement-worthy photo of Bobo. Flash makes baby squinty so I use sunny window and no flash on Macro setting in case you were wondering.
Everything is OK. The nurses at the hospital always make threats about how you have to feed your baby formula or the pediatrician won't let him go home, but I stood firm this time (notso with Chuckles as I didn't know any better) and everytually, the weight loss tapered off and poppie and wet diapers started coming. No biggie, but scary the first time around, I assure you. Second time is easier, I guess. I should tattle on the nurses, but frankly, I don't care that much now that we're home and thriving.