May 28, 2021
Reflection: I am loved.
Today, I’m grateful for: Community & Support
Challenge: Talk about it
Some may look at our current scenario and think, “Well at least you don't have to go through labor!” But even after experiencing a long, excruciating labor with my son, I would still take that 1000X over this. In labor, you are an active participant. You are co-captaining that ship with your baby at every step. You work with your body to ride each wave, and you get little breaks in-between contractions where you can rest and celebrate the victory of coming one contraction closer to meeting your sweet baby.
In this condition, you are a sitting duck. You are trapped in your own body. You just sit and wait and watch and worry what might happan next, praying that your sweet baby will remain safe and healthy. And I haven’t even gotten to the part yet where they heavily medicate you, roll you into a room with dozens of strangers who watch as they slice open 7 layers of your abdomen while you lay there strapped to a table like you’re being crucified with no sense of what’s happening, no sensation of your baby being born, no active participation in the process, just pure, raw emotional overwhelm and numbness all at the same time, staring at a blinding fluorescently lit ceiling in a cold and sterile room...and that assumes you’re afforded the ‘privilege’ of even remaining conscious for the whole thing.
Then comes the “golden hour”, right? That immediate moment where you embrace your fresh mess of a newborn. Stare into their sweet eyes in awe of what you’ve created. Bonding and embracing and sharing those first special moments together, just you and your baby?....WRONG.
Unless baby can make it to at least 35 weeks AND appears safe and healthy AND you don’t happen to get an overly conservative doctor, then baby is quickly shown to you over the sterile curtain and then whisked away to a warmer for evaluation, which is inconveniently placed behind your head, which means you can’t even witness from your crucifixion table what is going on. Your spouse, of course, rushes to be near baby’s side leaving you alone, staring at the bright ceiling, hoping and praying that everything (with you and your baby) is OK, and that your baby and husband don’t have to rush away to the NICU while they attempt to repair your tattered, postpartum body with as minimal complication as possible.
I say all of this not for sympathy. And not to pretend like vaginal birth is all sunshine and rainbows. I say this to bring awareness to yet another scenario that leaves mamas feeling fearfully alone, isolated, unprepared and objectified. As a society, we walk around pretending like pregnancy and birth (in general) are all positive joys....it’s not that it ISN’T full of positive joy, but it’s that there is both joy AND suffering. And nobody talks about the hard part! After Calvin's labor and delivery, I always thought it could NEVER be worse than that.....I was wrong. I had no idea, and I believe the more we can talk about our trials, the more we can find ways to support one another and find strength in our own trials knowing we aren’t alone in our suffering. Mamas, I want to hear your stories. I want to hold that space for you.
I have pondered a lot over the last several months whether I will EVER get to experience those God-given rights as a mother....of immediately embracing my baby as she emerges from my body....to stare into her eyes and hold that soul-connection that only mom and baby can understand....to indulge in that bonding and feel confident and comfortable that everything is going to be OK....I don’t know what the future holds for me there, but it is a really difficult desire to let go of.
One thing I know is true is that every mama and future mama has their own traumas. Whether in conception, pregnancy, labor, birth or postpartum, and we need nothing more than to better understand what every mama is going through so we can better empathize with those who are suffering.
Today, I’m grateful for community and support. For the texts and calls and, oddly enough, the questions. I am an open book, and there is something cathartically healing in the simple question “how are you doing today?” that makes me feel loved and cared for. This simple question gives me permission to share the honest and raw details without feeling the need to sugarcoat it with a “we’re doing good!” To connect on a more meaningful level. To know that there are others out there thinking of us, praying for us, and sending some much-needed positive vibes. So to all who have sent your love, thank you. I never could’ve imagined finding myself in a scenario like this, but having a village to stand by our side as we weather this storm means more than we can express in words.
We are so grateful.
XO
SS
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