The back labor was so intense and I needed so much help from my husband to get through the contractions. The dread I felt over letting the midwife help with the cervical lip. The complete exhaustion. There comes a point in every labor where I've felt "I just can't do this anymore", but this was different. Other times it was mostly mental, the contractions were close and intense and I wanted relief from pain. This time it was mental an physical. I had no energy to get through it. I was utterly exhausted. I needed help. I needed more help than I was willing to admit.
Looking back I see what I should have done. I should have stayed home and slept instead of shopping. I should have let the midwife help with the lip sooner. I should have eaten more earlier on. I should have asked for more support from my midwife and daughters. If I'd let them know just how much I needed their help I would have gotten it, but I've never needed much help before and so I said nothing. Pride. Very misplaced pride, kept me silent. Well... At least on that point. I was making a great deal of noise.
After Oliver was born I didn't have that glorious moment that makes all the work worth it. He was limp and unresponsive at first and maybe my concern was what took that moment. Even after that I felt... Disconnected. Oliver could have been anyone's child for all that I felt for him. I felt nothing really. Mechanically, I fed him, diapered him and cuddled him. The cuddling was, I think, an attempt to make myself feel what I thought I should.
I suffered a bad case of "baby blues". I had panic attacks when my husband had to go back to work. Overwhelmed. Completely, totally overwhelmed that's what I felt. All that I felt.
The human capacity to "soldier on" is quite amazing. I went through the motions. Said what I was sure people wanted to hear, but inside...
I finally told my husband and midwife how I felt. My husband soothed and said I was doing a great job taking care of the baby. The midwife helped me come to terms with such a difficult birth. The thing she said that helped the most was that having been through such a difficult and traumatic birth would make me a better midwife- if I ever actually make it there. That's when I remembered that knowing that others understand, that they know what it's like helps so much when you are walking through the fire yourself.
After about two weeks the blues faded and I was back on a more even keel emotionally. I fell in love with my beautiful baby. I realized that birth doesn't have to be that perfect, romantic experience in order to be positive.
Romans 8:28 "And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to his purpose."
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment