It's been 8 months since Robert's birth. I
wasn't ready to talk about it back then because everything was out of whack. I was grappling with the new family dynamic, trying to make something/anything work, and disturbed by how much the experience wasn't the warm and fuzzy "welcome to our life" that I had wanted it to be. The toughest learning curve of my life. Hands down.
Now, though, it's totally different. Our whole family was brushing our teeth at the same time this morning. I looked at that boy squeaking his gums on the handle of his toothbrush and tried to imagine what our life would be like without him. In all honesty, two words came to mind: simpler and hollow. My brain and heart have carved out a place for this fellow. I love him more every day.
So, the following is an account of Robert's first few days. Yes, I talk about labor and even use the words "cervix" and "afterbirth" so read at your own risk. I also delve into some of my thoughts and feelings, which weren't always positive. In fact, the reason I wasn't able to talk about Robert's birth before now was because it was a traumatic and raw experience unlike anything I had ever experienced before...including Alice's birth. If you want to skip the labor talk, scroll down to the asterisks ***
I remember reading some stories to Alice in the morning and noticing how things felt different. The harmless little Braxton-Hicks contractions were different. Absent, actually, and there was something else in their place. Braxton-Hicks contractions tighten your whole uterus for a few seconds. They're hard to ignore and easy to predict (i.e. standing up quickly, a little more physical exercise than you're used to, a full bladder, etc.). There were no more B-H contractions when I thought I should feel one. Just a teeny ache of tension. I watched the clock and discovered this tension was happening every 5-10 minutes pretty regularly. Suddenly, a stillness settled in my mind. I don't know how else to describe it. I kinda knew this was the real thing. This was the day I had waited for for 40 weeks and 4 days. I wasn't excited. I wasn't afraid. That surprised me. I just felt focused.
The tension contractions got stronger over the next several hours. I didn't tell Alice. I didn't tell Bobby. I started to get scared. Giving birth is not easy. My experience with Alice's birth showed me I was certainly capable of it, but Alice's birth also taught me how exhausting and painful it would be. It was hard to feel excited about the work ahead of me. Soon, I started leaking amniotic fluid with each contraction. The contractions got harder and more erratic. This was nothing like my experience with Alice which went almost exactly by the book. I was suddenly more insecure and more scared than I had ever felt with Alice's labor. That surprised me. I was embarrassed about it, too. "Shouldn't I know how this whole labor thing goes by now?" All my coping strategies were failing me. The pain was growing too quickly. I didn't have time to adjust.
I called the hospital to let them know I was in labor. I called Bobby, I think. Maybe my mom, too. I can't remember. I did call Bill and Kristin to come get Alice. I helped Alice pack her bag. Bobby came home from work at some point, Bill and Kristin took Alice away at some point, and I know we tried to eat something before heading out (homemade tamales with green enchilada sauce). I kept trying to put off our departure. I couldn't stand the thought of going through those increasingly painful and erratic contractions while strapped in to my seat by a seat belt. Walking and swaying were the only way for me to get through them. I had only been feeling pain for an hour, anyway. A trip to the hospital felt premature. Then walking and swaying wasn't helping anymore...it was time to go!
We checked in and got a room at 6pm. The contractions seemed more manageable now and I started feeling dumb for coming in so early. The nurse put on the fetal heart monitor and started asking the routine questions. The midwife was on her way. I was in a good mood. Then the next contraction came and I felt like I should push. When I told that to the nurse, she ran out to check how close the midwife was. In she came! The midwife on duty was Kathy Easter. The exact lady I had just had such a
positive experience with a few days before. I knew I was in good hands. I was chatting and laughing between contractions, which I thought was a sure sign that I was not far enough along to need to push. She checked my cervix and said I was dilated to about 6cm. Another surprise for me! I shouldn't feel the urge to push until 10cm, right? Kathy assured me that my body knew what it was doing and that I should follow the urge. I did. It was a matter of minutes before I was fully dilated and the baby started moving down the birth canal.
I remember so little about the next 30 minutes. Here are the pieces that remain:
I needed Bobby to hold my hand and count out loud for me through each contraction. Counting out loud reminded me that the contraction was only going to be there for a small amount of time. I remember he had to count past 50 once.
Kathy removed the fetal heart monitor soon after arriving. I was much more comfortable after that.
In the last 10 minutes, as the baby's head was coming into view and the pain was so shocking, I completely panicked. I was afraid. I didn't want to endure this another minute. I was in tears. This was nothing like Alice's birth. Nothing was the same. I asked Kathy, "Why am I so afraid? I don't want to go through with this. Why?" She said in all seriousness, and with perfect compassion, "Because you know it's going to hurt like hell." I needed to hear that. She acknowledged and validated my experience. My pain was real. My pain was okay. I was still afraid, but I had no other choice.
A few contractions later, there he was. Kathy picked him up and put him right into my arms. He was hot and wet, yelling like nothing else. He felt heavy to me. I looked at him and wondered, "Are you a Robert?"
Bobby and I held him, trying to figure out who he was. We didn't think to take pictures. I was going through all the physical shock that comes after giving birth...the shakes, afterbirth, utter relief...and marveling that it was actually done. Alice's birth took 6 hours from the first contraction. Robert cut that in half.
He nursed really well from the start. No problem latching on. No problem staying awake for both breasts.
*************************
They moved us to the recovery room and we made all of our phone calls. Still didn't have a name for him, really. He slept and slept, waking as often as newborns do. I was tired from the start. Alice's recent obsession with Mary Poppins led to one song getting stuck in my head the whole time I was in the hospital. It's that terrible song that Mrs. Banks sings about the suffrage movement. One line in particular haunted my half-asleep stupor, "Though we adore men individually, we agree that as a group they're rather stupid." For 2 days! Every time I nursed, every time the babe would squeak in the night, those were the only words that would come to mind. I felt sorry for the boy. I was probably making terrible milk with all that animosity swimming around my consciousness.
Nobody sleeps well in the hospital. I don't like being there. We put teeny little Robert in his car seat. Alice's car seat was empty right next to him. I was both glad and scared to go back home. How would I manage this needy newborn and his older sister? I wondered a lot, but knew that I had no choice. I needed someone to tell me that this, too, was going to "hurt like hell."
We drove straight to the Jarvi's house to pick up Alice. I stayed in the car. Bobby went in and Alice burst out the front door shrieking at the top of her lungs, "Baby Bob! Baby Bob! Baby Bob!" My feelings were suddenly so powerful that I started to cry. I...had...missed...her. I was amazed by her instant love for Robert. She was running towards the car and I was watching the last few seconds of her pre-Robert life. Everything was about to change. Where would we go from here? Who would we become? I didn't want her to see me cry, so I put it away for a while. She adored him, the Jarvies cooed over him, and then we took our kids home for the first time. Together.
The first few weeks that followed that day were hard. I won't candy-coat it. I just couldn't find a way to meet my needs, Alice's needs, and Robert's needs. Even with my mom, my sister, and Bobby at home to help me! Robert was the sweetest, most compliant baby in the world, and was such an easy-going little guy (when my Mom held him to her chest all night...thanks, Mom).
What made it so hard? I think it was because I had to restructure my relationships with everyone in the house, including myself.
Anyway, it's still a work in progress, but things are much, much better. Prayer and practice can deliver me from almost any difficulty, I'm learning. I love that boy dearly. I love both of my kids (er, I mean "our kids"). Life is more complex now, sure, but the blessings are richer for it. You should have been there when we decorated the Christmas tree last night. Warm fuzzies all around, and the best quality time we've had in a long time. I'm still glowing just thinking about it. I think that's why I can record Robert's birth experience now. My feelings, my life, aren't like that anymore. I've got a new line stuck in my head, "There is hope smiling brightly before us and we know that deliverance is nigh."
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