I am in every way, jealous of women with positive pregnancy revelations.
That sounds so awful, but it’s true.
The woman in a bathroom spread eagle peeing over a test.
The woman in her OBGYN office with fingers crossed waiting for the knock on the door.
The woman watching the timer on her phone fall down to zero and hoping for two pink lines.
My pregnancy reveal was traumatic, to say the least.
I have a hard time talking about it and the trauma that came from it- because as a mother I am supposed to be thankful and grateful and loving and accepting. But the day my daughter was born was without-a-doubt the hardest, most traumatic day of my life.
I had moved into a new apartment just a month before. I transitioned from a bent-up house that was too much to handle to a trendy apartment in the center of downtown, less than a block away from my work, Starbucks, and the best bars. I had my cat, new furniture, in-unit laundry and the biggest walk-in shower I had ever seen.
The Friday before I gave birth, I finished up teaching a day camp, ate half a cheese pizza, and walked the track at Relay for Life. I left my significant other’s house the next morning without saying “I love you, goodbye” because I was angry that he would rather do anything else but spend time with me that day. I had never done that before, and I never will again.
I spent the rest of the day in bed. Thinking I was starting my period (like I had every month during my pregnancy) I wrote it off as period cramps and just enjoyed a lazy Saturday in bed. I left the apartment once to get a Sprite and Twizzlers at the drug store across the street and strolled around downtown at the music event going on throughout the circle.
At 2 AM I couldn’t sleep. No position was comfortable, everything hurt and I was convinced I had another kidney stone. It had been 2 years since my last kidney stone and the pain was identical.
Once I got to the ER, no one suspected pregnancy. The nurse asked me my symptoms, my blood pressure was through the roof so it was obvious that I was in pain. Once the doctor came in the only reason why they asked about pregnancy was because of the pain meds I would need to be given for kidney stones.
I remember the doctor pushing on my stomach then swiftly inserting her hand and saying “Oh honey…”
I was 8cm dilated.
8 CENTIMETERS.
Well over halfway through labor.
I honestly blacked out at that moment. I remember my bed moving and being on an elevator. I remember being in complete denial and my nurse saying “You’ll be on TLC in no time!”
I got up to labor and delivery and it became a whirlwind of questions, intense contractions, and more stress than I can explain.
My mom wouldn’t stop trying to call my family, I thought I was going to explode with stress and embarrassment and an utter lack of control. I had to sign waivers, say “yes” to the fact that I had drunk alcohol while pregnant, taken no prenatal vitamins, and no prenatal care. Between contractions, I decided on immediate skin-to-skin contact (as long as she was healthy and crying) and that I wanted to breastfeed.
They had to break my water and everything went fast after that. I wanted to push and after forever I finally got the OK to push. My room was packed. My mom was there, my dad was in the hallway, the NICU team, a random male OBGYN, and all the nurses. I had no clue if the baby growing inside me was a girl or a boy if it was fully formed or premature if it had any birth defects… all I knew was that it had a heartbeat and it was coming out of me.
I pushed less than 10 times and she was out. “It’s a girl!” He said and laid her on my chest and she was perfect. I looked at her tiny face and I knew she was perfect. After she was cleaned up and assessed we snuggled and bonded and everything was wonderful.
But, Momma’s already knows all the wonderfulness that comes after the baby is out.
It feels wrong to “complain” about all the things that I hated about that day because that day I become the Momma to my best girl. But I wish I had a positive birth story to look back on and parts of it really sucked.
IT SUCKS that I didn’t get to enjoy my pregnancy.
IT SUCKS that my family didn’t ask me who was in the room directly after her birth. I was spread eagle, raw, emotional, upset, and traumatized.
IT SUCKS that I had an unsupportive OBGYN, who, frankly was a dick and contributed to why it took me so long to heal afterward.
IT SUCKS that I spent no alone time in the hospital post-delivery. I had approximately 10 minutes of alone time with just my babe and me after I delivered and it was very emotionally draining for me.
IT SUCKS that my daughter's birth was traumatic.
Mommas… it’s ok to be upset about this.
It’s okay to be upset about LOTS of things.
It’s okay to be upset.
Breathe, cry, shower, eat, coffee, BE UPSET, then snuggle your babe.
XOXO
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