I've spent the last 8 years of my life working toward a level of mindfulness and presence. The ability to stay with the moment and avoid or quickly dissipate anxiety and fear. The last 2 weeks of my life have pushed me so far back to square one I hardly recognize myself or my practice.
For 9 mths my boyfriend and I planned, prepared and eagerly awaited the arrival of our first child. We crossed the t's and dotted the i's in the knowledge that it would all go out the window as soon as the baby came along to take over. In all that time however, we never built our village, we never realized how much we needed one.
On Sunday April 5th, contentedly watching The Inbetweeners, I felt my waters break. Or so I thought. Being Group B Strep positive we got our meticulously packed bags together, called our brother to come stay with the dogs, and drove over to Mount Sinai. 90 mins of traffic later and we arrive in Triage. Almost an hour after that I was discharged and told I probably just wet myself "these things happen", "yes quite possibly 3 times in under an hour."
As the clock ticked us into April 6 we arrived back home, tired and emotional with some swabs to test my fluid if it happens again. And as I stood up out of the car my waters really broke. Back we go, teary and testy to get checked in.
My honey snoozed on the recliner next to me as I'm hooked up, poked, prodded and prepared for what will come. Things came too slowly.
By 11am my contractions were regular but not strong enough and the decision was made to start the pitocin; a decision I had dreaded from day one.
With the support of my boyfriend Jerry, the amazing nursing staff and one hell of a doula, Sasha, I breathed and moved through the next 7 hrs of contractions.
Then something changed.
Memories are hazy at best and stressful to recount. My mind jumps from standing and coping,with pressure on my hips, to clinging for dear life to the side of the hospital bed screaming for things to be over.With each wave of pain my body was wracked and my mind was split between allowing myself to "just be", feeling guilt for my love having to watch me, and feeling like I let myself and my practice down for not having the ability to cope with grace as I had wished.
The next few hours were some of the hardest of my life. Pain I have never experienced. Emotions that threw me. And a deep sense of not being enough.
I tapped out. Somewhere around 7pm (I think ...) I needed the relief of the epidural. Clinging to a pillow and weeping like a child I was administered the pain relief and quickly fell into a deep sleep. The hope was that I would sleep for several hours before pushing was required, unfortunately for me the epidural slipped. In my deepest sleep, looking peaceful from the outside, I was in agony but unable to call for help. I could sense Sasha next to me and I kept wondering why she didn't hear my screams ... Of course, I wasn't making any sound. By the time I finally came around enough to ask for help I was right back in the intensity that I thought I'd left behind.
The words traumatic, terrifying, horrific seem overblown when describing labour, but they are the words I would apply to my experience. The guilt and self-judgement for using those word is high; how, after 9 mths of healthy happy baby and mummy, could one so connected with her body be so unable to cope?
After a second epidural and a few more intense contractions pushing began. Oh sweet relief. I could have pushed all day. My healthy happy baby had other plans though ... I should have known, an Aries after all! Baby was lodged behind my pelvis with a twisted head. No amount of pushing was going to get through and as the heart rate started to bounce all over the chart I did something I never imagined - I called my own C Section.
Within minutes I was shaking on the Operating table, desperately waiting for Jerry to be scrubbed up and by my side.
So many questions passed through me - did I make the right choice? did I let myself and my baby down? If I had been a stronger woman would things have gone differently?
At 11.28pm, Monday 6 April, my beautiful baby girl Cosima Rose was born. She was 8lbs 10ounces of perfection, and melted mine and daddy's heart from her first breath.
There are no words to describe the explosion of love we have for this little girl. I could talk for days about the look on Daddy's face when he saw her. I could share the preciousness of her being. But all these things are recounted time and again ... And all these things do not detract from the trauma of the experience. That's the hard part. The taboo. How do I express my fears and anxieties when I have this beautiful bundle in my arms?
The next few days were a whirlwind of sleepless nights, checks, and family visits. At night I couldn't close my eyes as I was processing what had just happened. During the day there was too much going on.
The day of discharge arrived and, frankly, I went to pieces. My emotion, the change of environment, our lack of knowledge led to Cosima's first night of screams and tears. Unable to properly move, unsure why she wouldn't let us put her down for a second and exhausted, we were terrified. It was in that moment that I realized that we needed a support system ...
At 4am we texted Sasha and fought back the tears explaining we just didn't know what to do. The sweet relief of hearing "this is not the new normal" and "this too shall pass" was enough in that moment to quell the feeling of drowning. Within a few hours we had a postpartum doula on her way and some light at the end of the tunnel.
The next few days were a blur of tears, sleepless nights and the slow recounting of everything we'd just been though.
Sasha worked with me to understand that all labours are intense, mine was especially intense, and I did everything right.
My Dr reminded me that there was no way Cosima was coming naturally, my call for the C Section saved me and her a lot of unnecessary stress and she only wished she'd know 30 hrs earlier.
Jess, our post partum doula, helped overnight so we could nap. Allowed Jerry and I our first real cuddles again. Helped me breast feed, bathe, change and settle Cosima. Allowed me to be okay with the fact that Cosima does need a lot of touch right now and my job is to snuggle her and rest as much as possible.
Grandma stayed and cuddled her first Grandbaby allowing mummy to move, rest, and cuddle her puppies again.
Granny and Aunty over in England texted and called daily to check on Mummy and baby.
Without these women in my life I cannot tell you what I would have done.
We no longer live with extended families who can share the extensive responsibilities of raising a baby. I particularly feel this as I am so far away from my home in England.
These women helped me build that support back. They allowed me to return to the present moment, to understand the importance of my health to my baby's, and to ask for help in the right way. They started my village and continue to help me build it daily.
I have been able to talk through my experience. It still troubles me. But I feel more grounded with things as they are.
I have been able to embrace and cherish the support of our families, and to clearly state what I need to get through each day.
17 days in and I am riding the waves of joy, sadness, fear and exhaustion. I am ok with that. I am ok because I can feel the underlying love that surrounds me and my baby.
It's difficult to accept things as they are. For me, "as they are" means a battered and bruised, scared, but overwhelmingly blessed to have a net of support to catch me.
