Chapter 1: Having My Baby
Pregnancy
The day I found out I was pregnant, I was ecstatic. I vowed to avoid doing anything that could negatively affect the baby. I didn’t eat sushi or soft cheeses. I stopped dyeing my hair. (That was hard!) I stopped changing the litter box. (That was easy.) I watched my diet and exercised, at least when I wasn’t suffering from morning sickness. I stopped taking my psych meds. I believed I was doing the right thing.
Unfortunately, during the pregnancy, my brand-new marriage started to falter, and without the barrier of meds, I had a lot of trouble staying emotionally stable. Then, at the beginning of the third trimester, my blood pressure skyrocketed because of all the stress I was experiencing, and I was forced to go on bed rest for a few weeks. By the end of the pregnancy, I was worried I had made a huge mistake.
All of that faded the day Seth was born. As I held him, I gazed into his shiny, dark eyes, noting with amusement that the large divide below his bottom lip gave him more cleft than chin. I smelled the fragrance of his sweet head and gently caressed his silky soft skin, which was so tan I wondered how he’d gotten to the Caribbean without me.
I nuzzled his cheek and whispered to him,
“Today, you are perfect. You have never been hurt – physically or emotionally. I hope you will never have the kind of scars I do – and I am going to do everything in my power to help you avoid as many of them as possible. I love you with all my heart. If you need guidance, I will provide it. If someone is trying to hurt you, I will protect you. If you fall, I will catch you. Making sure you feel safe will always be my top priority.”
Lessons Learned
I desperately needed those kinds of assurances while I was growing up. However, over time, I realized Seth had different needs. He was secure in the knowledge he would always be loved and protected, but felt at odds with the world around him. He needed my help to successfully navigate unfamiliar and/or uncomfortable situations without causing undue trauma to his psyche. I learned it wasn’t enough to “be there” for him. I had to be there for him in the right way.
But let’s not get ahead of ourselves.
Labor
I had intended to deliver Seth at a birthing center run by midwives – without medications or interventions of any kind – but in those last blindingly hot days before Seth’s birth, I was growing impatient. I tested several methods to jumpstart labor: raspberry leaf tea, eggplant parmigiana, nipple stimulation, long walks, even sex, but nothing changed. A week past Seth’s due date, I was desperate to move things along. One of the midwives suggested I try castor oil, a traditional method to induce labor. YUCK! Even mixed with orange juice, the taste was unpleasant (to say the least), but it definitely did the trick. The following morning, my water broke, and I started getting excited!
Sadly, the examination at the birthing center revealed I was only one centimeter dilated, so I was sent home – with the understanding I would need to go to the hospital no later than 6:00 PM that evening, even if my contractions were still mild, because fetuses shouldn’t be without amniotic fluid for more than a few hours. I wasn’t happy about this news, but obviously, delivering Seth safely was the most important consideration.
When I arrived at the hospital that evening, a nurse hooked me up to a fetal monitor, and a doctor came in to examine me. I was still only one centimeter dilated. Because my water had already broken, the doctor insisted on a Pitocin drip to induce labor. That’s when the strong contractions kicked in.
Even though my birthing plan had already been compromised, I was emphatic about avoiding any further interventions. To handle the pain, I was using the Bradley method, which suggests that the laboring mother visualize gliding over ocean waves every time a contraction hits. I was doing my best, but after what felt like forever, and with no drugs to take the edge off, I was sobbing and vomiting. I was almost certain I was in transition (eight to nine centimeters dilated), but I had only progressed to two centimeters. Labor had stalled because Seth was sunny-side up (facing towards my stomach instead of towards my back). That was my first indication Seth was going to be strong-willed!
The doctor decided to do a Caesarean. I really wasn’t happy about that, but I realized – under the circumstances – a C-section was the best choice. Once I received an epidural to numb my lower half, the orderlies whisked me off to the delivery room. As the excruciating pain left my body, I was filled with both relief and shame. I felt like I had already failed my son, and he wasn’t even born yet!
However, once Seth was cleaned, swaddled in a blanket, and placed gently on my chest to nurse for the first time, the guilt faded away.
Lessons Learned
I was so desperate to not be pregnant anymore, I was willing to try anything. I should have been more patient. (Side note: castor oil is vile, and Pitocin contractions really hurt, especially when your water has already broken!)
Being forced to abandon my birthing plan was my first indication that, as a parent, it would be important to be flexible and always expect the unexpected...
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