Nothing will get a bunch of veteran moms talking like a spirited discussion of labor and childbirth. These conversations are best when they happen in the presence of a scared first-timer who’s mere days away from having her own story to tell. The veterans seldom notice when the mother-to-be in their midst begins to shift uncomfortably, breaks out into a cold sweat, or turns slightly green. It’s not that no one wants to hear about your epidural-gone-wrong, or your emergency C-section, or your God-help-me tearing. It’s just that when a woman with a belly the size of a bowling ball is present, and maybe just coming to terms with the fact that this child she’s been so proudly growing all these months is going to have to come out somehow, it might be prudent to stick to the good stuff. The epidural that worked backward and succeeded only in numbing you from the midsection UP paled next to the inexpressible joy you felt when you (got the feeling back in your arms and) held your little one for the first time. That recovering from your C was easier than one might imagine, and for many women quite preferable to the alternative. That the God-help-me tear ... healed.
So I won’t tell any newbies about throwing up in a Best Buy bag because the pre-epidural drugs didn’t agree with me and Steven is resourceful. Or about passing out AS they were putting a needle into my spine. Or about pushing for two and a half hours before finally having Alex pried from me with oversize salad tongs. I won’t tell them about the fact that those tongs broke his tiny little newborn clavicle, and that the break was supposed to heal cleanly and instead left a huge calcium deposit BUMP on his collarbone that seems to be growing as he does. That on the second day in the hospital I collapsed into sobs because he wouldn’t eat and I was so sure they weren’t going to let me take him home because of what an unfit mother I was that I begged the nurse to bring me some formula and show me how to bottle feed. That I felt like a big jerk because of that.
Nah, nobody needs to hear the horror stories. Least of all me. Because, while I’ve done it once before, I’m no expert and I am a worrier. So as far as I’m concerned, this one is going to show up on my doorstep, all snuggled in a blanket in a basket with a refresher list of instructions attached. I’m not too old to believe in the stork.
I guess we tell these stories as our grandmother's did, thinking they are preparing you for the worst scenerio could possiblity encounter.The generation before me wouldn't even discuss the "labor process". All they would say is, "it's just too horriable to repeat, I just don't want to remember anything about that day"! That's just great, what kind of experience then can we relate to? It was my greatgrandmother who spilled her guts on the real story, she should know, she had eight kids!She told me when expecting the first baby, "It's bad, painful, but once who hold that baby in your arms, you forget all the pain." Now here's a woman who had a babies in the early 20's, nothing for pain, and had them at home! How bad could it be, with the epidural? Guess our generation just wants you women to know how bad it can be, so we give you details! It worked well for my daughter, she's on baby #3, and has never felt one contraction! C-section each time. How fair is that? She should experience the pain I went through with her and her 2 brothers. So, us older moms just keep telling our war stories, and you precious young mothers to be, just have to endure. Did I ever tell you how many hours I was in labor with Kenneth? Love you my daughterinlaw, as a daughter!
ReplyDeleteI LOVE MY C-Sections! Although there is some trauma in feeling the pressure of your insides being twisted, pulled and sat on top of your torso; knowing that it should hurt but doesn't. Then your doctor informing you that they were "now putting the uterus back in". I'm thinking, 1. Why did you have to take it out? 2. That is great, shut-up and do it already! I really didn't need to know that it is out in the first place!
ReplyDeleteI threw up the medicine that was supposed to help calm my stomach for the epidural. The funny part was that I was laying flat on my back, with my arms outstretched and tied down so all I could do was turn my head to the side. I had purposefully applied make-up that morning (one of the perks of a scheduled c-sec) and I just knew it messed it up. The arm tying is not good for anxiety driven people like me.
So, with a c-section there is no "tearing" and bathrooming is not much of an issue afterwards. HOWEVER, there is the skin overhang that will never go away unless there is surgery involved and let's not forget the lovely scar. Although that isn't much of an issue unless you wear pants as low as Paris Hilton which clearly shouldn't be worn post delivery.