A glimpse into my heart.

So, many people often ask me why I'm so drawn to pregnancy and childbirth... why that's all I seem to want to talk about... the answer to that question is simply that I have no short answer, and for me to sit and tell you every reason why could turn into a scattered confusing mess of word vomit. (Word vomit- a group or cluster of words that project out of my mouth into one of your ears and out of your other ear. Often lacks any kind of structure, and sometimes does not make any sense whatsoever).

I feel like since many of my blogs will relate to my views on pregnancy and childbirth, it may be beneficial to share my experiences in this area so people will have a better understanding on how I came to my conclusions. My sons birth has always been difficult for me to talk about, so keep that in mind friends. (It may not seem that bad to some, but his birth was traumatic to me and it took me a long time to process even a little bit of it).

Going back to the first experience I had with birth... my fascination started when I witnessed my nephew's birth. It was the most incredible thing I had ever seen in my entire life. To see a new life come into the world, so pure and innocent, so new, and so precious... This experience was a gift to me in and of itself. At that very moment when he was born, I knew that there was more to the birth process than meets the eye... something profound, something worth exploring.

When I found out I was pregnant with my first baby, I was flooded with emotions, thoughts, and feelings that I had never experienced before. I was about to embark on the incredible journey to motherhood. Each journey is totally different... and mine went nowhere NEAR how I pictured it would.

I went into this thinking it would be easy and breezy... countless women had done this before me, I was no different from them and it would come totally naturally to me too. WRONG.

My mother gave birth to me completely naturally. She labored with me for a very long time, and just hearing her talk about her experience when I was small led me to believe that labor was something to fear. However, when it came time for me to decide how I wanted to do things, I made my decision (without doing any research at all) to attempt a natural birth too. I had witnessed one, my mother had done it, and my mother in law had done it too. I decided that it was a good thing, and that it was the best and only way. After some bits of negative feedback I began to doubt my ability to cope with that amount of pain. I decided I'd still give it a good shot anyway.

So here's the story as I recall it... (Just a quick note, everyone who attends a birth has a different story of the birth, and mine is no exception. My recollections are different from those in attendance, and I may have perceived the events a little differently than everyone else). It was May 18th, 2009 when it all started. It was late in the evening, and I was feeling sorry for myself and felt quite discouraged and huge. I was sitting in my rocking chair and then my water broke. We hung around the house for a bit then I got anxious and we went to the hospital. Since it was late we rolled in through the ER, and then we were led back to labor and delivery. The minute we walked in, the nurses had me on the bed, all the lights on, hooked up to monitors, did their intake exams, hooked me up to IV fluids and had us filling out paper work. After a while, contractions suddenly hit me like a freight train. It was hard, intense, and more painful than I had imagined. Not long into it I lost all ability to cope and could no longer hear the supportive words of those around me. In my mind, I was thinking "How the hell am I going to do this for two days like my mom did? These contractions are long, hard, and back to back to back. I NEED relief!!" I got the epidural. (It was later brought to my attention that a good portion of my difficulty to cope may have stemmed from the fact that my mom was not there for my son's birth. She was gone, and before his birth I struggled with the fact that I was having my first baby without her. It has been hard to overcome the sadness in knowing she will never know her grandchildren, and they will never know her).

After about 4-ish hours (not really sure how long, but my whole labor start to finish was 8 hours) I was awakened to somebody telling me it was time to push. At this point I was beyond out of it. People would literally be talking to me and all I heard was gibberish as their mouths moved. I had never felt so helpless and out of control in my entire life. I had no control over my thoughts, movements, emotions, or what was about to happen to my body and my baby.

After 15 minutes or so, Shirley (my nurse) told me to look at my baby because he was here! I did not even know he had been born because I couldn't feel anything from my chest down. I was propped up and I looked. He was blue and limp and didn't make a sound. He was briefly placed on my chest, and they took him away quicker than I was even able to look at him. Still no sound. I had absolutely no clue what was happening other than that the only thing I could think about was how frustrated I was that I couldn't hold him. Nurses were clustered around my baby and I could not see one single part of him. Jeff and his mom looked terrified and I had no ability to feel anything physically or emotionally. My mind was completely gone.

After a few minutes he was moving and the nurses slowly stepped away. Joey finally made a noise and was monitored for a few minutes. When he was finally placed in my arms all I could do was cry. I finally had some feeling back. All I knew was that he was perfect and I was in love.

The next several hours went well... we held him, snuggled him, kissed him, and celebrated his arrival. The mood started to go downhill quickly after the first several hours... I had some side effects from the medications I received during delivery. My blood pressure plummeted (among other complications), and it caused me to pass out. Shirley was a huge help to me and I ended up back in bed the remainder of the day.... a few other things happened after she left, but I'm sure everyone will be okay if I leave those details out. Later in the day, Joey started having trouble breathing. He snorted, his breathing seemed labored, and he was making some very strange noises as he would exhale. I knew something was wrong, but unfortunately the nurses we were assigned to after Shirley had gone had absolutely no desire to appease me and examine him. They said it was something cute that he did. No joke. Cute? Seriously?

The next day, Joey's breathing got worse. I was still stuck in bed, and somebody finally checked him out. Nothing serious. Okay. So they gave him saline drops and maybe ran some tests... I can't remember.  I was still out of it. The next day was where it got rough. Joey was really having a tough time, and in the early morning hours one of the nurses took him back to the nursery for observation. There he was hooked up to an IV line and I believe they did a chest x-ray only to find he still had some fluid left in his poor little lungs. I believe they intubated him for a while... that whole day I stayed in my room. I couldn't bear to see him because I firmly believed it was my fault, that I had done this to my son.

Sometimes when things like this happen, they happen for no reason. Sometimes people have done nothing at all to cause these things, and sometimes even the worst of the worst can happen for absolutely no reason. In my case I firmly believed it was in my own weakness that I became selfish and lacked concern for my child when I signed the consent form to receive my epidural.

In the days following delivery, I felt shame, worthlessness, unworthy of my son, bitterness, defeat, and complete sadness. I was not happy with how things went, and I was extremely angry with myself for how I had handled my labor. I felt judged by everyone... even though the only one judging me was myself.

After a while, I had experienced enough grief and was able to move past it for a while. I chose not to dwell on the past. Instead I chose to enjoy my son, rejoice in the fact that my baby is here before me and had not been taken away. I am so grateful to God for my little boy. (BOTH of my babies. I can't imagine my life without them). I am grateful that Joey taught me about faith through all of the heartache I felt... I learned to have faith in Him, and faith in myself. Even though it was not a major horrible event to some people, it was hard for me to swallow. To come that close to another potential loss was a lot for me. I've experienced a lot of loss in my life... more loss than most people my age. I feel justified in my feelings... anyone who has been through what I have would have felt the same way.

Joey's birth was one part of my life that was both incredibly joyful, yet incredibly terrifying at the same time. It was hard for me to acknowledge those events because I blamed myself for what happened to him. Granted, majority of medicated births do NOT include the same chain of events that occurred at mine. It does happen, but it's not super common. Medicated birth just does not work for me. No judgement to others, but I was left completely unfulfilled, and I did not feel empowered. I felt cheated. I felt like I had cheated myself. And I did... I did not give myself a chance and Joey and I both paid for it.

Well... I definitely decided not to let that happen again. And I didn't, because I had proper knowledge and I have some very incredible individuals in my life that give me undying love and support. :) Here comes the empowerment part......... well, at a later date. That's a whole other story. (May I just say, I do have extremely fond memories of my sons birth. It was one of the best days of my life. Holding him for the first time, looking into his eyes and knowing that he's my gift from God was perfect, it was the bumps along the way that hurt me, but I use those as a learning tool and I've recently begun sharing my story with others in hopes that they will take it to heart and do some research to make an informed decision unlike I did). My apologies for any word vomit. :) To be continued.....