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From Random Word Generator
Firm Chart Rack Sleep Ceremony Incongruous Redundancy Civilisation Authorise
I felt firm, but seldom fair
As she at my chart did stare –
Fittered around with the rack,
(Asked about my aching back)
All this medicalised crap,
Making my patience snap.
Just like some juicy rack of lamb,
Slaughtered by the no-sleep scam.
I hate hospital, and this
Does not add to the pregnant bliss!
Ceremony of the prods,
Waiting for some doctor’s nod.
Not incongruous enough
With my crutches, bump, and stuff;
I endure this redundancy
In bad grace (and clumsily).
Lost from civilisation, cos
Reception in here’s a lost cause;
I sit while others authorise
How my child will meet ‘outside’.
Notebook page
I may actually still be a bit bitter about my first pregnancy and birth experience. Maybe just a tad.
My lovely friend, whose baby shower I unfortunately had to miss due to the never-ending lurgy, had her baby today!! I am so happy for her, and overjoyed that she and her little girl (8lbs!) are healthy. I love looking at new baby photos!
It was the best part of a day before I heard how my friend was, after we’d been chatting over Facebook before the start of her ‘proper’ labour. I kept having flashbacks to what happened to me in my ‘incommunicado’ phase, and I wished I could be there to reassure her and listen to any fears she had etc.
I am far too squeamish to be a Doula, but still I feel such empathy for those about to venture into parenthood for the first time!
For me, there were a whole series of moments where my resilience and mental toughness were tested in the birthing process – especially with our Eldest. While I was in the moment, I went with what I knew to be the right thing to do, or at the very least what health professionals told me was the right thing to do, and of course the most important outcome was that our baby was delivered safe and well.
But…
I did not have the natural and calm birth that I wanted, and I went through a grieving process after he was born. This was all very overwhelming while recovering from an emergency c-section (and the subsequent haemorrhage which affected my breastfeeding), still dealing with PGP pain, struggling with having had no proper sleep in three days, and trying to get used to this little person needing me to get it together for him.
I felt as though I had failed him, and no one would listen. I was happy he was here and healthy, I just felt so weak and drugged and nauseous that I couldn’t hold him properly, so hubby had him for a long time (I was also attached to a drip and blood pressure monitor for ages, so my arms and hands were compromised).
This poor baby was used to me, I was his home – and I couldn’t be with him in the way he deserved. How many drugs were coursing through his little body in those first hours, because I had been induced and he had spun into the breech position when I was too dilated to have anyone manually turn him?
I was advised to give him formula top-ups when I wanted to breastfeed exclusively so badly…he screamed through his first night on the ward, and it was blamed on my breasts.
And so it went on. I grieved it all, while also being fiercely proud of, and in love with, him. It still upsets me.
But…
I saw a picture earlier of my friend lying on her hospital bed having skin-to-skin with her baby. The expression on my friend’s face is one I know well. It is one that holds a new realisation of her power. There is a look in her eye that says:
“I did it! I survived! This little person is mine and I will protect them for the rest of my days. I am truly blessed and I am strong. My body is amazing! I am everything the word ‘Mummy’ can ever mean. I can handle it all. I am scared, but I am determined. I did it!!”
It made me smile.
I have seen that look many times before, and it always makes the world right again.
I have a few pictures of me from those early days. You’d better believe I had that look, too 😉
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