The bed was moving. It felt like I was on a air mattress at the lake. I felt warm, like the sun was hitting my skin. There was a wave rolling underneath me. First my feet would raise, then the wave would work it's way up my body, then it would slowly lift my head. Unlike a wave, this one would then move my head and work its way back down to my feet. I wasn't sure if this was a dream or real.
When the wave made it back towards my head, I knew it was real. When it moved my head up, something pulled on my neck. My reaction was to raise my shoulder. Something was attached to my neck and it felt wrong to move it. It felt like something was pulling the skin on my neck. If I was dreaming, this would NOT be part of my dream.
I heard someone by my feet. They seemed to be whispering. I opened my eyes to see N and my mom hugging in the doorway of my room. It was bright and not the same room I remember going into. The room was small and seemed to be appropriate for recovery.
I wasn't in recovery. I was in the Intensive Care Unit. I had been on a ventilator. It was Saturday morning around nine o'clock. Was Zoe okay? What happened? They filled me in on everything. N kissed me and told me our daughter was perfect and beautiful. He couldn't wait for me to meet her.
He assured me she only had two eyes. In my medically induced sleep throughout the night, I would wake up and ask, over and over, how many eyes she had. My only real pregnancy dream was that she was born with three eyes all on one side of her head. Apparently IV medication made that the only real thing I could remember.
N's parents were on their way, my mom, N's sisters and brother in law, my honorary mom and my cousin had already arrived. That's what triggered some foggy memories. I couldn't understand why my cousin was there unless I was in bad shape.
Since I was awake and off the ventilator it was time to move me to the Perinatal Special Care Unit (PSCU). They had a corner room for me, only steps from the NICU entrance where Zoe was.
Here's the thing they don't tell you, when you switch beds, ain't no one gonna move you but you. That's the moment when I realized the full extent of my ordeal. My whole pregnancy I prayed for three things: a healthy daughter, a smiley daughter and no stretch marks. Always those things. Always that order. All of my requests were answered. I realize now to pray specific. I came out with 7 scars.
I had two drains coming out my abdomen, 30-some staples down my stomach, three IV's in my arms and a special IV stitched into my neck, attached to my jugular vein. I didn't like it then and I don't like the memory of it now.
I remember very little of this day, except two things: I was put in a room in the PSCU that would be my home for almost the next 18 days.
I had yet to meet my daughter. I had heard she was beautiful. They called her small, but mighty. I tried to picture 2 pounds and 10 ounces and none of the pictures I could think of were reassuring.
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