Even though my baby is three months old, or maybe because of that, I have not left a day to remember the day of delivery and the days that we were both admitted to the clinic.
One of the images that most often come to my mind is that of the first time I saw my son. Or I should say the first two times, being in the operating room I saw him twice.
The first, just take it out
The curious thing about the cesarean section is that even if the anesthetist was radiating the operation as if it were a football match, I did not believe that my body was going to leave a baby. I did not expect anything to come out, to tell you the truth. He said, “It’s already out: the shoulders, the head, it’s already out.” And I kept thinking it was not possible.
So when moments later I lifted my head a little so I could see that all-white cullet seemed an extra-corporeal experience. Or trans corporal, I do not know. “Look at the number plate; it’s clear he’s a child, eh?” The matron said. “Please, can you show me the face?” And then they turned it for a moment, and I could barely see him, completely covered with a white, viscous substance. It was not at its best, come on.
I guess of the emotion
There were no trumpets or celestial music there, not all those things that some people think happen at birth. Apart from the conversation of the gynecologists and other health personnel, I only listened to my son in the background and my gasping.
I do not know how much time passed, rather little, when the matron came back with my son dressed, with his hat on, wrapped in a green surgical towel or sheet. He placed it so close to my face that we merged in my tears and his babillas. My mouth giving kisses covered almost his entire face. I no longer cried. He made a little noise to comfort himself, a little noise that he continues to make today, but more so from time to time.
His eyes were wide
I had already read that within two hours after delivery the baby is more receptive and with more open eyes than it will be in the next 3/4 weeks. So it was. That face of my son, with his eyes wide open, so open that in the dimness of the operating room I could already see what color they were, I will never forget.
I thought he knew me. Maybe it was my imagination, but I thought he liked seeing me. And I wanted to see him.
It was the most shocking moment of my life, of course. Maybe not the most emotional, because the tears came later when I met my husband, and I was coming out of shock. As much as you prepare during pregnancy, no one can explain what it feels like when you see your child for the first time.
I do not know where I read or heard that having a child is getting used to your heart dwelling in another body. And it is entirely right.