You can tell someone has just had a baby by the mere fact that they simply fall off the face of the Earth. Or is that just me? I seem to always find a reason to disappear. No wonder my husband questions the ready to go bag in the trunk of my car. Does anyone else have one; you know for emergencies?…
Back to the premise of this story, me having a baby, an actual child, who will need me to love and nurture and support their love for expensive items they will only use once. Who knew I would be part of the mom club 2020!
Going into birth, I had it all planned out. Breathe, scream, have your husband massage your back , PUSH!! and poof here is your screaming baby girl. You count her toes and fingers, check for birthmarks as your partner breaks the thumping bond between mother and child. Following what is called the Golden Hour. Your baby nuzzles on your breast as you stare at her lovingly forgetting all about the intense pain you went through to get her here. NOTTTTTTT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Maybe for women who were handpicked by the Goddess of Child Birthing. For two hundred and forty three days I thought that would be me. Enjoying the fruits of our labor in a tub surrounded by candles and a jumping playlist. By month 9 I knew the odds were stacked up against me. The larger I got the more I so desperately needed her out. 30 days of maternity leave during a pandemic was pure torture. Trapped, Bored, Tired, Useless. Time passed ever so slowly, my due date a mere suggestion. All these midwives tricks of the trade fooling me into a depression of my own impatience.
December third during the late evening I awoke to major cramping, that seemed to come and never leave. Was the long awaited arrival happening and would it be this easy? Nope. Twelve hours later we arrived at the Midwives of NJ to find out that the pain I had endured opened me up to only a centimeter. A FUCKING CENTIMETER; what did the other nine feel like? The news sending us back home but not before getting locked out of the car for 2 hours. My head up against the window of a local eatery, wondering how my husband could pull this stunt. The same man who had criticized me for constantly having to break into any thing that can be locked. I am the queen of climbing fences, windows, breaking doors down, and crying in the middle of the street needing a rescue. And today of all days it happened to my husband. Isn’t it ironic!
The next day a painful blur, as my mother and husband stood by trying to comfort me any way they could, me hoping this baby would slide right out of my vagina. By the fifth I was calling the midwives pleading them to make this go by faster. Not only were my contractions closer together but they came with a friend called back labor. Wow!! was she a bitch! A spiteful hater type of bitch, pokes and prods until you are defeated. 32 hours of back labor and I had to kick that motherfucker out. My midwife suggested an epidural and it wasn’t until the drugs settled in that I was reminded of my younger self’s motto “Never Say No to Drugs”. It’s the one lesson they teach you in school that you later learn why you shouldn’t trust the government. *wink wink* The skies opened up for me, I was flying higher than an Elon Musk rocket ship. Surely this is why people have more children, right? If only I could end the story right here with a funny pooping story but no this kid needed twenty more hours, a swollen cervix and a surgeon to cut her out of me.
UGH! The ever dreadful C-Section. I hated everything about it. The bright lights, the twenty thousand doctors introducing themselves to me as if I would remember who they were, that curtain, and the lack of control. As I sang twinkle twinkle little stars, the doctor started to slice me up like a pizza party at the end of the school year. And just like that; snaps fingers; the wails of a baby sparked me out of my drug daze, SHE WAS HERE! at 6:33 in the morning of December 6th, weighing 8lbs 7 ounces. My husband’s eyewitness account is the only real memory I have of her and her conehead. The moment I had been waiting for was gone faster than a winter’s daylight. Off she went into the nursery as I did my own wailing. Begging them to close me up, swearing I could feel every moment but know now that what I was really feeling was the emptiness, the stress of not being with my baby. Little did I know that feeling would follow me for another nineteen days.
to be continued..