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After having prodromal labor for over a month I made it to my scheduled c section. DH and I didn't get any sleep the night before. He works second shift and sleeps odd hours anyway. My excuse was I knew I would not be able to sleep so I didn't even try. I did however have a really bad panic attack. DH started feeling really bad. He dry heaved a few times. I was scared he was getting sick at the worst possible time. Turns out it was most likely nerves. My MIL came over at 4:30 am to stay with the boys and to get them to school. I was starting to get antsy so we left the house at 5am. On the way there I am crying and having another panic attack. I just wanted to turn around and go home. I just had such a bad feeling. Maybe it was a premonition. We got to the hospital at 5:20am ten minutes early. They started cleaning my belly, shaving me, and getting my IV started. When the nurse was talking I was fine. When she left the room my anxiety would kick in. The nurse informed me my OB was very punctual. So when it was almost 7:30 I started having another panic attack that lasted the entire hour and a half I was in the OR. The anesthesiologist met with me and I disliked him right off. I told him my concerns and past experience and he didn't really care. So that made me very uneasy. As soon as they get me in the OR and on the table I start shaking uncontrolably. I mean it was extreme jerking motions. It was nerve racking since I knew I needed to be still for the spinal. They went right to work on it. It was such a horrible experience. The nurse was trying her best to calm me. He could not get the right spot with the needle. He kept poking me for a good 15-20 minutes or more. It was so painful and started off the whole thing bad. I was right about the guy doing it from our first encounter. I knew then it would not be pleasant. Anyway he finally got it in the right spot because I felt the numbness run down my legs. I then layed down really fast while I could still feel them. They hung the curtain and pinched me a few times. Then put in my catheter. My OB had mentioned we could listen to a cd previously. And the nurse told him to choose one and put it on to help with my nerves. He chose a mix cd with Ozzy, Skid Row, Twisted Sister, and Aerosmith. There were other bands I can't recall now. DH was brought in and they started no turning back. I was still in panic attack mode trying to listen to the surgical team talk about vacations. My OB's wife, who is also an OB in his practice, came in to assist. I thought that was really cool. DH turned on the video camera just to get the audio. He held my hand and tried to calm me. Finally my OB asked if DH had his camera ready. DH didn't hear him so I had to tell him to get ready. The song at that moment was Skid Row "18 and life". Finally I hear a little bit of crying but mostly suctioning. I was waiting to see him over the curtain but they brought him around the side and showed us then took him to clean him up. It was so surreal. DH went to take pictures and It seemed something was off. DH came over and told me they were helping him to breathe. They didn't run him out of the room or anything. But It just felt odd. I was still having anxiety. I heard them say he was 8 pounds 2.5 ounces and 20 something inches. I found out later he was 20.5. Anyway they brought him over and showed him to me for a second on the way to the nursery to help him with his labored breathing. I asked the nurse carrying him if he was okay. She said "for now"! DH went with them and I was stuck alone on the table while they stitched and stapled me up. That part of the surgery took forever. At this point my shaking was back and bad as ever. I wanted to try and be still but I couldn't. My arms had a mind of their own. Finally everything was done and they moved me onto a bed. I asked my OB how things went and if I had bad scar tissue or anything from my previous c section. He said all of that looked great. But I had A LOT of fluid and the baby was very high and transverse. He thought he took a big gulp on his way out. They pushed me passed the nursery on my way back to my recovery room. I saw DH's face for a brief second. I had never seen that expression on his face before. I then knew things were less than perfect. He looked very scared. Once we were back the shaking started again. They put a blanket and fan on me to heat me up. The nurse told me Archer was still having a hard time breathing and they were taking him to the NICU. That was a very scary moment.Nobody would tell me his prognosis and if he would recover. Finally DH returned to the room. Things are kind of blurry to me for a bit after that. I think after an hour and a half they took me over to my postpartom room. I kept asking to see him.The nurse kept telling me as soon as I felt my legs and could stand up and get in a wheel chair I could go see him. I then had a mission-To get to the point of my legs working again. DH spent time between me and the NICU. My MIL brought the boys from school for a bit. DH came back with a few pics with Archer wearing the CPAP machine. I didn't want to see them just yet. I was too scared to see him that way. Things became blurry again but eventually my legs had feeling back. I want to say 8 hours had lapsed. But I'm not sure. All I knew is I was getting in that wheelchair come hell or high water. By the time I got to the NICU they had a cannula in his nose for the oxygen. I'm glad because the other machine looked so much more scary when I see the pics. Once again my memory is blurry at this point. That was the start of our scary journey that we had no clue what the outcome would be. I was mobile and walking to the NICU on my own a few hours after the wheel chair ride down. All the nurses kept saying how impressed they were with my walking so soon. But to me it was something I HAD to do. Finally Saturday morning my OB's wife came in to check on me. I asked her if I could leave that day having only been there 48 hours. To my surprise she said yes.DH had to be home with the boys and I was so depressed and lonely up there by myself. Leaving was very difficult. We visited him every day. We took turns crying and being the strong one.The boys couldn't understand why they had to wait to meet him. The following Tuesday after having him the Thursday before I convinced them to let me take him home. He was 2 days shy of a week old when he came home. He had fluid, air, and a torn air sac in his lungs when born. Thankfully everything resolved itself within 5 to 6 days. The oddest thing about this whole ordeal is I felt this coming. I had been studying the hospital I picked specifically for the brand new million+ dollar level 3 NICU. I kept telling DH over and over the last month that what were we going to do if he was born having serious breathing problems.