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Saturday afternoon could not be better than this.
Here’s a photo of Talia enjoying a nap outside in mama’s arms.
I’ve been wanting to write out Talia’s birth story, but that would mean I have to actually integrate it into my own experience.
I’m not totally sure I’m there yet. It wasn’t so bad per se. Just intense and painful.
Also, it makes me feel like I need to write out my first birth story; Eva’s birth story. So maybe I’ll write a bit about it today. I couldn’t even talk about that one until sometime last year, when my daughter was 3 years old. I think I had finally integrated that experience and was no longer bitter any more.
(so, here is the story of my first child’s birth. disclaimer: it’s graphic)
With Eva, in pregnancy, I was the picture of health. I could even still kick ass mountain biking at 5 months pregnant. I was going to be a super birther for sure.
Labor was totally doable for me. I was ‘om-ing’ through my contractions from 4cm-10. Then came time to push. I was in a hot tub, so maybe that is why things happened the way they did. She had cord around her neck, so maybe that was it. I felt okay at first pushing. My mom had just gotten there. My midwife was someone I trusted and liked. Pruitt was in the tub with me, behind me, supporting me with his arms and words of encouragement.
Then, I felt that ring of fire. My midwife said that my baby had hair and did I want to feel it. NO! I yelled out that I was ripping. That my clitoris was ripping! No one did anything about it. I honestly don’t know what could have been done, but it seemed at the time that my statement didn’t matter.
I was told that I had to keep pushing. I had to push hard. After that, I was silent. During pushes I said “HMMMMMM”. Her head was out, she had cord around her. The cord was off. One more push and there she was. She was out in two pushes.
I tore up my labia and had to have stitches, my clitoris tore, but couldn’t be stitched. You can see the places still; looks like someone took a scissors and clipped little bits out in those spots.
My tailbone was dislocated (which we wouldn’t know for two weeks because people kept patronizingly telling me everytime I said it shouldn’t hurt like that, “Honey, you just had a baby. You’re gonna be sore for awhile”).
My mom ended up staying with us for six weeks. I don’t remember the first 3 of my daughters life as I was delirious in pain but unwilling to take anything but ibuprofen or tylenol for fear of what would get through to Eva in the breast milk. I just remember eating a lot, looking up and seeing my mom rocking the baby often while it seemed like I slept forever.
I cried every night when my husband would get home from work. My mom would take the baby and he and I would go up to our room. I would just go limp in his arms and bawl. I thought everyday if I could do it again, I’d never have had a child. The trade was too big, too much for me. I couldn’t sit or stand without pain. I had one of those inflatable donut things; it didn’t work for me. We saw everyone from pain specialists, chiropractors, to surgeons. Finally, we found that acupuncture worked for the pain and I got in with a cranio sacral physical therapist for my tailbone.
When my mom left, the depression really set in. I was in a fog for months. I was a new mom with no friends with kids and I was in perpetual pain. I don’t know when it finally got better, I can’t remember. I started healing physically when she was about 4 months old. Acupuncture and a good cranio-sacral therapist were my lifeline. Acupuncture would often open things up for a good cry too. I think that helped me finally get out of the depression. That and my husband insisting on us getting out often – to an artwalk, out for a hotdog and rootbeer, a walk at sunset, anything to get us out of the house and away from my funk. He was truly amazing for those months. Thank god he is the father he is too because I couldn’t have done it otherwise. I could have easily disappeared it seemed like. I think her birth was such a sacrifice that I wasn’t prepared to make that I resented her for it. It was so hard to go through the motions of being the mom I wanted to be but didn’t feel. I wonder still how it affects our relationship. I wrote in my journal at the time that I knew I would have to give up some of myself to make room for her I just hadn’t counted on in what ways or how much of me would go.
Her birth was the beginning of a painful period in my life that I felt was supposed to have been such a good time. I felt cheated for a really long time. I don’t remember enjoying any baby moments with her really, to the point where even when I was pregnant with our second child I told someone that I didn’t really like babies that it would be good when she could talk.
I’m sure it’s good for me to look back at this now that I can. I tell Eva that she swam out of me in water like a little fish. I think that is all she needs to know.
I am in a better place after this one. I can say that it won’t be 3 years for the next story to be able to be written. I just need to understand it a little better still and take more time to enjoy this baby.
