Today is the day my little one was born. At this time five years ago I was probably awake as well (it is currently 4:53 am), but for different reasons. Most would think because of being uncomfortable lugging around an extra body, but nope it was because I was fearfully awaiting my c-section and what was to come after (oh, and leaving my precious 2 1/2 year old while I was laid up for days recovering). Come to think of it, it wasn’t only the night before it was the entire weekend before. I didn’t want anyone to come over to our house because I was crying all weekend. Pretty pathetic for a 26-year old grown woman. Oh, the things you learn as you age.
My prior experience with a c-section wasn’t the greatest. It wasn’t awful, but going through18 hours of labor then having a c-section kind of stunk. Also, the feeling of your stomach being completely cut open and not being able to walk kind of stunk too. Walking after the first c-section was such a challenge and I wasn’t up for it so I laid in bed only to get up to go to the bathroom. Most people think a catheter is awful, but since I had an epideral and couldn’t feel the whole painful process it wasn’t bad and it prevented me from having to get up to actually walk so to me it was the best thing ever. I was not happy when they actually took it out and forced me to walk to the bathroom. Sometimes the nurses are big jerks. The nurses are also big jerks when it comes to breast-feeding, which brings up my next experience that made me so fearful of actually having you here, the pressure I felt after the first time to breast-feed.
People don’t tell you the horror stories of nursing. They tell you it is a natural, beautiful thing. They don’t tell you that it is the worst pain ever! Apparently for some woman this is not the case, but for me it sucked. Even my friend who gave birth naturally two times agrees, which does make me feel better about being such a wimp when it came to this. So, I felt pressure the first time around and gave it everything I had and when it didn’t work out, I tried more causing more pain and more stress leading to a case of postpartum depression.
I had, of course heard of postpartum depression, but thought woman were crazy not being able to get control of their emotions. I wanted and planned for a baby so how could I not love, bond and be the perfect mother when I had her. Well, apparently postpartum depression is real and I had a serious case of it. I could not stop crying. I literally thought I was going to die, so much so that your Dad (who going through this with me makes him a saint) called the hospital to let them know this. They said I needed to rest so he let me sleep the entire night and got up with your sister by himself the entire night (again, a saint). A week after being home from the hospital I was still crying and went to the doctor, just my luck (too bad writing doesn’t show sarcasm) it was the only male doctor in the practice. Daddy met me at the doctor and stayed in the waiting room with your sister while I sat in the sterile exam room wearing nothing but a paper gown, balling my eyes out with milk soaking through the paper gown. A lovely sight to see. They suggested to stop trying to be super mom and ditch the breast feeding and get on some drugs, so I did and I slowly started my road to recovery.
I remember when I couldn’t get pregnant with you going to the doctor and having her question me, “Are you sure you really want to go through that again?” She was so shocked that I was there even thinking about having another baby after how I felt the first time. I really wanted your sister to have a sibling because of the bond I have with mine so I told her yes and started the fertility process. I say process, but really it wasn’t bad, just a few months of clomid so I was lucky. When I found out I was pregnant I was happy and scared all in one. The first time around we didn’t tell anyone until 12 weeks, but with you everyone knew we were trying and I couldn’t keep on letting people think we were still trying (it took us 6 months). I was still scared, but made it to the 12 week mark!
At 13 weeks, out of the blue I started bleeding, like I thought I was having a miscarriage bleeding. It was awful. I called my sister, my Mom, and finally my Dad answered and I cried through the phone, “I need Mom.” I think he was scared too and handed it right to her and I cried, “Mom, I need you. I think I am having a miscarriage.” I was so scared. They got to our house to take care of your sister, while your Dad (what would I do without him?!) took me to the hospital. We could not believe our eyes when they saw your tiny heartbeat on the monitor. We should have known then that you would be born fiesty. We could not have been happier. Apparently, my uterus tore away from the wall, which caused the bleeding. I was to be careful for the next few weeks. I went home and cleaned the blood off our bathroom floor and then did nothing the rest of the time I was pregnant with you. This experience made me think of the doctor questioning if I really wanted to go through this again and I now knew I did.
I was so happy to make it to my actual scheduled due date. After I had the miscarriage scare I remember counting down the weeks just trying to keep you inside of me. On the day you were born I was pretty much a wreck, but humor is my way of coping so all the nurses thought I was handling it well. I went to have my spinal tap and they waited for it to take effect before the c-section procedure. They started the process when I yelled, “I can still feel it!” They waited, it still wasn’t taking so they did another spinal tap, lucky me (again, sarcasm) and then you were born. After you were born I requested more drugs and was out of it for a while. When I saw you you were a tiny little thing at only 6 pounds and with completely wild hair. I thought after I had your sister I would be scared to hold such a tiny baby since she was so big, but I wasn’t scared at all because you were mine.
The nurses, of course pushed the breast feeding on me. I started to feel like I was going down the slippery slope to postpartum depression hell. I was so scared and called your Dad, who was on night time duty at home with your sister. He gave me a pep talk and told me to stop trying to breast feed. That was just what I needed, someone in my corner to tell me it was okay to not breast feed and he did that for me. Your Dad is an amazing man. It gave me the courage to say no to the nurses and be fine with my decision.
When I left the hospital with you it was such a different experience. I felt grateful to have had my Mom watch your sister for the time I was in the hospital. I was in much better physical condition because of all the walking I did in the hospital and with you I felt such an amazing sense of love. No drugs needed. I truly felt like I was on a high the first two weeks. It was such an incredible feeling and I couldn’t imagine never feeling it again.
When I think of your birthday, that is what I think of. The feeling I had after I had you. The love I felt for you holding your tiny body in my arms. Seeing your spiky hair and long eyelashes. I am so thankful that you were able to give me those incredible feelings.
So… Happy Birthday Bug, but really Happy Birthday to me!
Great story! And look at that itty bitty Sky! She really looks like herself in that last picture! Last but not least…yay for not giving birth again! Seriously…c-section, natural or epidural…it’s all so awful until that last moment when you get to meet them. And then they start crying…:)
Great story! Made me tear up! 🙂