A few month ago I saw my husband smiling in the living room and I asked him why. He was reading what he had written a few days after Sarah was born, so that one day, he could read it to her. I thought that it was a wonderful idea, and there we were, both sitting, remembering those “precious” moments while he was reading out loud.
The day I met you is not the day you were born…
We arrived in the hospital very happy, I got prepared, I was even very pretty – I was not in pain, and I thought that if it was the day we were going to see each other for the 1st time, I was going to look pretty… and I was very pretty, very happy and not even stressed…
After filling all files, monitors and check-ups the doctors said that I was not ready to give birth, but that they couldn’t let me go home so I had to decide on whether you were going to come into the world on your own terms on whether I should decide to push you out a bit with medicine…
If I could go back and think more clearly, I would have chosen differently:Let you decide of course! but, despite on what daddy thought, I took the medicine option (I didn’t want to risk complications and infections because of a lack of amniotic fluid)
After 4-5 hours, we entered the room I was supposed to give birth into. It was bright and spacious, it looked good. 1 hour later, I received the medication and told daddy (who hasn’t eaten all day) to grab something to eat because it would take long before something happens… so he did
In 5 minutes time, the monitors were getting weird, and 4 nurses came into the room, 1 broke my water, 2 nurses moved me into another bed and the 4th one called the operation room where I arrived 2 minutes later with an oxygen mask on. Daddy arrived at that time and didn’t know what was going on, he saw me crying and said that it was the most stressful time he had ever experienced.
The operation room was cold, the nurse grabbed my hand and told me that there was no time for me to sign any paper and that everything was going to be OK. This is what I remember… the emergency C-section started at 18:14, at 18:16 you were born, I was inconscient, and daddy wasn’t allowed inside to be with you. After like 3-4 hours I woke up, and didn’t know what was happening, I rest and got moved again. During the night I saw pictures of you that daddy took
I only saw you the day after, I was detached and didn’t understand what was going on. I struggled to breastfeed, and there you were, my beautiful girl with no name yet.
We went home after a week and stayed with grandma (my in-laws – lucky enough that daddy had read about loneliness and Postpartum depression – PPD)… because it was hard, it even felt un-natural. We went home when you were 1.5 month old, and I was counting the hours until daddy returned from work, I wasn’t eating well because I didn’t want to, even though I got food already cooked with love and prepared, brought home by grandma (my in-laws)… I had PPD, a light one – I loved you, cuddled you, nursed you with love, but felt overwhelmed and had trouble coping with the new situation. I didn’t take medication because nothing on earth could have prevented me to nurse you and feel you close, nothing on earth could have prevented to breastfeed…
At that time I only thought about me, and didn’t realized what I have put you through, what it must have been like for you… and I’m sorry that it is the way you entered the world.
I’m sorry I was stressed (and still am in a way), and I’m sorry I wasn’t fully emotionally available – I’m sorry.
I can’t change what has been done but I am working on the present and hope for a bright future, full of connection between us and a bond that will never end.
I am there for you and always will be
Ima (“Mama”) ♥♥♥