Joys of bringing life

By Jane Han

Finally the moment has come — the day of delivery.

I don’t think I’ve ever been this nervous. Not even before my wedding day.

Getting any kind of sleep the night before was pretty much impossible so I spent the entire night tossing and turning and thinking; thinking about a gazillion things.

Did I pack everything in my hospital bag? Did I buy enough bottles and diapers? Did I buy the right kind of bottles and diapers? One question led to the next.

And once I managed to stop obsessing over these questions, the real fear factor hit me. Yes, the dreaded c-section that gave me butterflies. All. Night. Long.

I was beyond excited to see my girls after nine long months of waiting, but I must say, the surgical procedure wasn’t exactly something I was looking forward to.

I kept telling myself that countless other women go through it just fine. But of course, that wasn’t enough to calm my crazy jitters. So with fear and anxiety, I welcomed the morning of delivery day.

At 7 a.m., I was at the hospital to check in for my surgery at 9 a.m.

My husband tried to ease my tension with a few jokes here and there, but all he got back from me was a dead stare. With less than two hours left till the big moment, I was in no mood for joking.

Doctors and nurses came in one after another for all kinds of last-minute checkup. They checked the babies’ position one last time and hooked me up to various machines before the anesthesiologist came in for a pre-surgery interview.

Then after what seemed like forever, the nurse signaled that it’s time with a big shout, “Let’s go meet your girls!”

I walked into the surgery room and, even at that nerve-racking moment, I couldn’t help but to glance left and right, checking out the room that looked just like a scene from Grey’s Anatomy.

Celine Dion’s music was flowing in the back and about eight doctors and nurses welcomed me to the surgery bed. All I can remember is that everyone seemed super happy and psyched — except me. In case I haven’t emphasized it enough, I was just too nervous.

Ahead of the spinal anesthesia, the part I’ve been dreading the most, my doctor held my hand and broadcast to me what was happening behind my back, literally.

As expected, it did hurt. (Sorry to those who have a c-section coming up soon.)

Once my lower body started feeling numb, my husband came in, sat next to me and held my hand the entire 45 minutes of the surgery.

Baby A came out just 10 minutes after the surgery began and Baby B came out two minutes later.

Everything happened in a blur, but one thing that’s super clear to me is when both babies, just after being quickly cleaned, were placed on my chest. Now that’s what I call a defining moment.

After another hour in the recovery room, I was wheeled in a bed up to my room.

My parents weren’t due to arrive from Korea for another day, so friends were waiting with containers and containers of “miyeokguk,” the famous seaweed soup that all Korean women must eat for at least three weeks after giving birth.

By then, things were slowly starting to sink in. Or so I thought.

Reality really sank in when the nurse brought my girls in, all nicely cleaned and dressed. Not just for a brief mommy visit, but for me to take care of for the next five days, all day and all night.

I love my girls to death, but taking care of two newborns freshly out of a surgery wasn’t something I was ready for. Apparently, it was the hospital’s new policy to help promote a mom-baby attachment.

When I was first told this, I thought the nurse was playing some kind of joke on me. But after two days of sleepless nights of feeding and diaper changing, I realized that the “policy” is actually providing a huge learning experience for new moms and dads before taking their newborns home.

On day three, I glance down at my much smaller belly and look at my two tiny girls. I’m much lighter now, but with a much heavier load on my shoulders. The most precious and wonderful load on Earth, that is.

Now that the complex twin pregnancy is over, parenting awaits this inexperienced mom.

It’s going to be one wild ride, but before I get started, I’ll have to first get past feeding these tiny girls.

As for now, bye bye Tummy Talk, welcome motherhood!