Fear. This is the one thing that has been a common thread throughout my whole first pregnancy. Fear that I would loose the baby after so much time nurturing him in my womb. Fear that he would be born without all of the standard baby equipment, i.e. arms, legs, eyes, feet. I feared one thing above and beyond all of these very realistic, but improbably outcomes of my 9 month journey. I feared the final departure. The exit. How in the world was an expected 6 pound baby going to come out of the womb that carried him so lovingly for the past 9 months?
I knew that countless, brave woman had endured what I was about to embark on and lived to tell about it. However, there are also countless, brave women who died in child birth. Even as recent as the week before my deliver, in the same hospital. How was I to be any different? However, the one fear that crept over me like someone walking on a grave, was the thought that the baby was going to have to come out. More importantly, come out of there!
During the last week of my pregnancy I was diagnosed with Pre-Eclampsia and Toxemia. My blood pressure readings were around 201/199. I was swollen and my skin had a layer of water underneath it, giving me the appearance of a walking waterbed. It was great for my pregnancy self esteem. Pregnancy is beautiful! Right?
After I was admitted to the hospital 6 days before my due date, the doctor’s wanted to induce. I went through rounds of medications, on a constant drip. Pitocin, Magnesium, Cervical Monitors, the whole kit and kaboodle. My blood pressure was so high that I had very little sight left and my eyes were black all the way around them. I was miserable. I was ready for an epidural. Once all of the contractions were bearable and I could lay still and rest, it came back. The thought. The thought that my baby was coming and he was coming out of there.
Three days had gone by and all the medical efforts weren’t making my baby stand and deliver. I firmly believed it was because he could hear my thoughts. The fear of the inevitable. He knew I was terrified of him coming out and splitting me in two, leaving him alone with his equally as terrified father, with his own paternal fears. So he kicked back and relaxed. What else was there to do?
Then just as everybody decided to let my body relax and I could finally eat real food, my water broke. I started to cut into my eggplant parmesan, when I thought I peed myself. The nurse tested my waters and confirmed that I was indeed labor and not incontinent. I was so upset that I couldn’t eat, I wanted to cry, but I think I used them all up during the contractions.
So I just lie there and sulked until they hit. They! The all encompassing, body quaking, earth shattering contractions. The natural way your body gets you prepared for the event about to take place. It’s kind of like the alarm that sounds when there’s a fire and all the fire people come running out and rush to the fire. Yeah, that’s the type of enthusiasm that goes into each contraction. Your not sure if their ever going to end or if they will be the death of you.
I was inclined to think they were going to be the death of me. In other words, I was pretty much of the mind set that either me or the baby wasn’t going to make it out alive and instead of my husband standing by my side looking at me lovingly, he should be out planning a funeral. Morbid? Yes, but this is what fear does to a person. It robs you of the enjoyment of some of the most wonderful things in life.
Until that wonderful conclusion comes and you sit there, looking into the babies eyes. Him/her looking back at you. Checking to see if he or she was issued all of the standard equipment and you want to just sigh in relief. So you do. Then you realize, you were just afraid of becoming a mother. Then you are one and your grateful, scared, relieved, petrified and elated all in one joyous moment. The baby came out of there and guess what? You both made it. Both in tact, hopefully and without even thinking about it, you will do it again.
Photo copyright by Angel Rodrigues. iphoto photograph.
Great job putting your feelings into words, Angel; I felt like I was there with you. I'm so sorry that you had to deal with those medical issues and that fear. Hopefully next time you will be able to face it with joy and excitement, knowing that your body has proven it CAN do this!
Yes, When I had my twins, I was so in charge of myself and what was going on. I had a great experience. I just had to deal with my body yelling at me for putting two babies in there. lol Thanks for reading my article and for the great compliment.
Fear. This is the one thing that has been a common thread throughout my whole first pregnancy. Fear that I would loose the baby after so much time nurturing him in my womb. Fear that he would be born without all of the standard baby equipment, i.e. arms, legs, eyes, feet. I feared one thing above and beyond all of these very realistic, but improbably outcomes of my 9 month journey. I feared the final departure. The exit. How in the world was an expected 6 pound baby going to come out of the womb that carried him so lovingly for the past 9 months?
Shereen, Thanks so much for the remin...
I have done a couple of scrapbook lay...
I started pumping at 6 weeks postpart...
I'm going to BlogHer and I'm so excit...
So funny, I have been thinking about ...