Giving Birth

I have read a number of birth stories on the internet; Dooce, Amalah, Sundry, and Miss Zoot on my list of links all have their birth stories posted in their archives somewhere, and there are other random blogs I've read that didn't stay in my reading rotation. A number of people refer to the love they felt overwhelming them from the second they saw their child.

This is not how it happened for me. I was not an immediate bonder. Of course, Luke was 9 pounds, 8 ounces. That's big, see? And he came out the natural way. I had an epidural, and I was tired by the time the nurses were asking me if I wanted the doctor to help. I didn't understand what they meant by 'help', and I am terrified of C-sections, and in general, any surgery, so I kept asking them what they meant. So finally, the doctor came into help, which meant forceps. Luke was turned a bit and his shoulder did some damage upon exit, so I lay there, my arms semi-numb (which probably means the epidural was travelling a bit too high) and watched them clean up my son. I didn't cry, in general I felt exhuasted and numb.

They stitched me up and I watched them clean up Luke, and when everything was done, they placed him in my arms and left me alone in the room with him. I could barely move (again, epidural too high) and was scared I was going to drop him. It was not the tender moment I had dreamed of, when I first met my child.

Motherhood has been a series of 'this is not what I thought it would be', some good, some bad, and always learning more about myself and my child.