It had been almost 24 hours since my water broke. I knew what was coming. I just knew it.
My heart was full of a sense of dread. It was the one thing that I didn’t want…the one thing.
The doctor came in with a look on her face that said it all. “We’re going to have to do a c-section.”
I shook my head as if I understood. I mean, of course I did. I wasn’t progressing. I had been stuck at 7cm for hours on end. I was physically and emotionally exhausted. It was time for him to come out.
The doctor left and I dissolved into tears. Fear overtook my body – fear of surgery, of being cut open, fear of not being in control.
My mother and husband did their best to comfort me, to calm me, but it was futile. I was a wreck.
As they prepped me for surgery, I tried to be strong. My heart was beating so loudly that I felt it was sitting in my ears. I couldn’t breathe.
As they cut me open, my husband did his best to distract me. It all seems so silly now, but it got my mind to focus elsewhere instead of on my reality.
“Tell me how we got to the hospital, Erin. Tell me how we get to the nursery in our house. Do go up stairs? Do I turn right or left?”
I gave my husband step-by-step directions as they cut my first born son out of me. When we finally heard him crying, the tears came, quickly followed by the nausea.
I sent my husband to be with the baby. I didn’t want him to see me be sick. I lay there, shivering uncontrollably, hearing voices as they took out the placenta and started to sew me back up. I couldn’t understand them but I felt them, pulling, tugging. Pulling harder, tugging more.
STOP TOUCHING ME, I wanted to scream. Why can I feel so much?
I looked up at the anesthesiologist and said firmly, “I can feel them.”
Then louder. “I CAN FEEL THEM.”
He told me he’d give me a little something and I woke up an hour later.
My first moments with my son are a blur. I have no real memories, only pictures that document that the moment happened.
It was not as I imagined. It was not beautiful. It was not magical.
Or was it?
While it was not as I had envisioned, I still had my baby, my baby that I had dreamed of for over two years. And when he stared up at me, with those sweet, knowing eyes, acknowledging that I was his mama, I knew how he got there didn’t matter.
He was mine. And I was his.
We Still Blog Week One: Life’s Challenges
EDITOR’S NOTE FROM KELBY CARR: For this new series, We Still Blog, a blogger will share their fabulous writing unfettered by online style guidelines, SEO, PageRank, inbound links, and any other pesky distractions. You can also participate! In fact, we would love to see each post spark creative inspiration with other bloggers so the art of writing well doesn’t get lost.
To participate, just blog anything on the theme A Moment in Time! There are some suggested writing prompts below. Then come back and share your post in the linky below. You don’t need to link here or add the linky to your blog or ANYTHING. Just write. And if you don’t have time for a post, comment below and discuss a moment in time that changed your life!
THIS WEEK’S THEME:
A Moment in Time
WRITING PROMPTS (choose one):
- What was your most life-changing moment?
- What single experience most affected your personal character and integrity?
- What was the scariest moment in your life?
- What was the happiest moment of your life?
- What moment most impacted your approach to your professional life?
- What moment most impacted your approach to marriage?
- What moment most affected your approach to parenting?
SUBMIT YOUR POST
Be sure under name to use the following format: Your Name – Post Title
Photo © Mitarart – Right to use purchased at Fotolia.com
Erin Lane is a corporate marketer turned stay at home mom to a three year old son and one year old daughter. After spending eleven years in an office, she’s now mastering language development, creative play and toddler tantrums. Chocolate and coffee get her through the day. You can read her at A Parenting Production or follow her on Twitter at @ErinCLane.
I so relate to this, Erin Carnahan Lane! None of my births were that vision you see in movies with the baby handed to the mom and that special bonding moment. I had three NICU babies and all were rushed out of the delivery room… and all I had to wait hours to see. Ugh. I am certainly thrilled to have them, but I spent a while with my first birth getting over being sad at missing the classic happy birth, if that makes any sense.
I so relate to this, Erin Carnahan Lane! None of my births were that vision you see in movies with the baby handed to the mom and that special bonding moment. I had three NICU babies and all were rushed out of the delivery room… and all I had to wait hours to see. Ugh. I am certainly thrilled to have them, but I spent a while with my first birth getting over being sad at missing the classic happy birth, if that makes any sense.
I think a lot of mothers could identify with this, Erin. You shared the experience beautifully. Even though I didn't have the same experience, I could really feel your moment.
I think a lot of mothers could identify with this, Erin. You shared the experience beautifully. Even though I didn’t have the same experience, I could really feel your moment.