September 25, 2013 in kids
September 16, 2013 in about me
Did you know that some tattoo places have Friday the 13th specials? The place here that comes highly recommended in this area offered certain quarter sized tattoos for $13 plus a lucky $7 tip. Neat, huh? Since I was in high school I’d wanted a heart with wings on my wrist and as luck would have it one of the tattoos offered was a heart with wings outline. Since high school I’ve signed my letters and cards with a heart with wings instead of love. It’s just my thing, you know? So on Friday the 13th, my bestie since high school and I went and got tattoos. She already had two others but this was my first.
It felt like… you know when you get blood drawn and the nurse sticks the needle in? It felt like that over and over and over very quickly. I’d popped a piece of gum to chew and was glad I did because I chomped down on it and gripped the table with my other hand, counted back from 100 and before I got to 1 it was over.
It wasn’t bad exactly because once it was over, that was it. Having had 2 c-sections, the pain was next to nothing.
Will I do it again? Probably. I’d like to get B and Little O’s birth month flowers – poppies for Little O and marigolds for B. I haven’t decided where yet though.
This is it, my first tattoo:
August 5th, 6:18 PM
19 inches, 7 pounds 11 ounces
The repeat c-section went fairly well. I talked to the anesthesiologist doctor beforehand and let him know that I’d been having panic attacks over the idea of getting cut open. He assured me everything would be OK and that his wife had 2 c-sections herself so he knew how difficult it could be.
I did panic on the operating table when I realized I couldn’t feel or move my feet. I knew I wouldn’t be able to of course, but the feeling made me panic. Little O had just come out and was healthily wailing, Hubby was suddenly there with him next to me ready to take a picture, and I couldn’t feel my feet.
The nurses snapped our first family picture and as soon as I managed to smile through it, I told them I was going to be sick. They grabbed a vomit bag but nothing came up. That made me panic more.
My heart rate sped up, I started gasping, and the next thing I knew I was DRUNK. Yep, the awesome anesthesiologist doctor was anticipating it and he dosed me with something that gave me a happy, calm drunk feeling. Thank goodness for pictures because I don’t really remember much until later when I was in my room. Which I’m fine with. I really am. As far as panic attacks go, it was one of the better ones I’ve had. I got to be drunk without a hangover and got a cute baby with it.