Since I was a
little girl, all I ever wanted was to be a mom. Some people grow up
and it just clicks somewhere inside of them that they want to be a
doctor or a lawyer; that that is something they would be
amazing at. From the beginning I knew I wanted to be a mom. That was
the only thing I was ever sure about.
I had my fair share of boyfriends throughout my school years. From my first few middle school flings, to my first real relationship; which undoubtedly failed. Then to my last few serious relationships in high school.
I married my husband at the ripe age of 17, pregnant with my first child and in love with a man who was many years my senior. He was 23 and we were in love. That head over heels, goofy love that many people experience only once in their lives. I knew I wanted to marry him and of course I thought I was ready; Ready to take on the world with my husband and my baby bump. Boy was I fucking wrong.
When Liam was born, my birth experience was far from beautiful. I went into labor that progressed very quickly. When we got to the Emergency room, my doctor was unable to make it, so then came Dr. Random-Pants who I had never met before in my life. Little did I know he had the highest C-Section rate in most of Virginia. Lucky me.
My labor continued to progress normally when the doctors came in and told me that they were worried because the baby wasn’t moving. Well, that was the time of night when baby was usually pretty still, likely sleeping. They told me they would monitor him for a few hours and see how things progress, and if he still wasn't moving as much as they would like to see, they would consider a c-section. Soon after that, got my epidural.
During the epidural process I told the nurse I thought I might throw up, to which she said, “Are you serious?” Then during my epic barfarama, she had the nerve to ask me, “Are you done yet.” and believe me it was in the snarkiest of all snarky ways.
Soon after, my husband went to the cafeteria for some food. In the time it took for my husband to make it downstairs, the doctor came in and told me some random junk to get me scared, and prepped me for surgery.
I was 17 and stupid, I was scared beyond belief, so I went along with what the doctor wanted, without protest. This is one of my biggest regrets in life. Had I been a little better educated I would have been able to tell him, no. I would have been able to voice my opinion and not let him take advantage of me.
So fast forward about 30 minutes and my husband had returned and we were being taken to the OR. The mother I was just screaming at and telling to shut up was now the only person I wanted to see and have hold my hand, through one of the most terrifying times in my life.
One of the many things I remember about that night was my arms being tied to the table because of my uncontrollable shaking, due to the epidural. When they lifted Liam out of me, I was waiting for a rush of emotion and relief; I felt nothing. I was expecting to have him on my chest and kiss him, to finally meet my baby boy after so long and make that finishing line bond with him; I felt nothing.
The doctor whisked him away without even the smallest touch of his cheek. We took a quick picture and then he was gone. Where was my baby? Why are all these strangers holding him and not me? I lay there on the operating table completely ignored, until a nurse wheeled me to a quiet recovery room.
In that recovery room I was completely alone. With everyone I knew off seeing my new baby; Everyone except me. I told the nurses of my birth plan, that all I really wanted out of everything was to breast feed him right away. I was ignored.
About an hour went by and I was finally taken to my room, where my husband and mother waited for me, all holding the baby and talking to him. Everyone except me. The only rush of emotion I felt that night was of disappointment.
I carried my son for 9 months, went through excruciating labor, had to be cut open and put into a dark room by myself for an hour, and I was the last person to get to hold my son. I waited 9 months to feel a love so great that most people cant explain it. I waited 9 months to hold my child, and put him to my breast to seal our mother-son bond. I waited 9 months to be a mother, and by the time I finally got to hold him; I felt nothing.
Liam was always a very independent baby. In the hospital they actually nicknamed him spiderman because he was incredibly strong, lifting his head and keeping it up the day after he was born; Rolling over from belly to back 2 days after birth. He was an extraordinary baby.
We had polar opposite personalities and still do, to this day. I yearned for cuddles and a sleeping baby on my chest, and he always wanted to be alert and moving, never held for very long. Our personalities alone made bonding very difficult. Nothing was the way I anticipated. Every mom I spoke to during my pregnancy, painted a picture of an out of this world love that you had to experience to believe. Where was my moment? What did I do wrong?
I often wondered if God was punishing me for getting pregnant outside of wedlock; if my many years of teenage rebellion had caught up with me, leading up to this undeserving karma. What did I do wrong to deserve this? Did I have anyone to blame other than myself?
These are still questions I ask myself, believe it or not. I still don’t quite understand why things went that way for me. I sum up that part of my life by saying; Life just happens and you have to play the cards that you are dealt.
My birth experience was not perfect. I left the hospital with my new baby boy, a confused heart, a completely botched incision that later had to be fixed, and the trauma of an experience that I will hold with me my entire life.
So listen to me, if you are a teenager, or a mother-to-be at any age in life, fight for your birth experience. No, not everything is going to go your way; But, educate yourself and know your rights. Do not let yourself be taken advantage of. Your birth experience wont only effect you and your emotions and hormones, it can and will effect your baby.
I suffered from postpartum depression, which I believe stems 100 percent from my birth experience. My depression effected my son, which deeply saddens me. Do you see how if one thing goes slightly wrong during child birth, it can cause an immense domino effect? I dragged my son into my downward spiral of depression, and with a heavy heart I want to honestly tell you that I never experienced that incredibly bond with my son. I never felt the spark, I never got the butterflies.
I wish that somewhere along the way, someone would have painted me a more realistic picture of child birth. I would have loved to hear the ugly side of child birth before diving in with such high hopes. So here I am, telling you my story; the good, the bad, and the ugly truths of child birth in America.
Liam is now 5 years old and was recently diagnosed with High Functioning Autism, Asperger's spectrum, with a secondary diagnosis of ADHD. He is an extraordinary child, and makes everyday interesting; to say the least. He is smart beyond his years, gets himself into a whole lot of trouble, but has a heart of gold.
I can say with total confidence that I must have done something right, because my son loves people like no child I’ve ever known. And despite our crazy uphill battles that led us to where we are today, we are working on our bond together, and I believe that someday in our near future, we will finally feel that spark.
I had my fair share of boyfriends throughout my school years. From my first few middle school flings, to my first real relationship; which undoubtedly failed. Then to my last few serious relationships in high school.
I married my husband at the ripe age of 17, pregnant with my first child and in love with a man who was many years my senior. He was 23 and we were in love. That head over heels, goofy love that many people experience only once in their lives. I knew I wanted to marry him and of course I thought I was ready; Ready to take on the world with my husband and my baby bump. Boy was I fucking wrong.
When Liam was born, my birth experience was far from beautiful. I went into labor that progressed very quickly. When we got to the Emergency room, my doctor was unable to make it, so then came Dr. Random-Pants who I had never met before in my life. Little did I know he had the highest C-Section rate in most of Virginia. Lucky me.
My labor continued to progress normally when the doctors came in and told me that they were worried because the baby wasn’t moving. Well, that was the time of night when baby was usually pretty still, likely sleeping. They told me they would monitor him for a few hours and see how things progress, and if he still wasn't moving as much as they would like to see, they would consider a c-section. Soon after that, got my epidural.
During the epidural process I told the nurse I thought I might throw up, to which she said, “Are you serious?” Then during my epic barfarama, she had the nerve to ask me, “Are you done yet.” and believe me it was in the snarkiest of all snarky ways.
Soon after, my husband went to the cafeteria for some food. In the time it took for my husband to make it downstairs, the doctor came in and told me some random junk to get me scared, and prepped me for surgery.
I was 17 and stupid, I was scared beyond belief, so I went along with what the doctor wanted, without protest. This is one of my biggest regrets in life. Had I been a little better educated I would have been able to tell him, no. I would have been able to voice my opinion and not let him take advantage of me.
So fast forward about 30 minutes and my husband had returned and we were being taken to the OR. The mother I was just screaming at and telling to shut up was now the only person I wanted to see and have hold my hand, through one of the most terrifying times in my life.
One of the many things I remember about that night was my arms being tied to the table because of my uncontrollable shaking, due to the epidural. When they lifted Liam out of me, I was waiting for a rush of emotion and relief; I felt nothing. I was expecting to have him on my chest and kiss him, to finally meet my baby boy after so long and make that finishing line bond with him; I felt nothing.
The doctor whisked him away without even the smallest touch of his cheek. We took a quick picture and then he was gone. Where was my baby? Why are all these strangers holding him and not me? I lay there on the operating table completely ignored, until a nurse wheeled me to a quiet recovery room.
In that recovery room I was completely alone. With everyone I knew off seeing my new baby; Everyone except me. I told the nurses of my birth plan, that all I really wanted out of everything was to breast feed him right away. I was ignored.
About an hour went by and I was finally taken to my room, where my husband and mother waited for me, all holding the baby and talking to him. Everyone except me. The only rush of emotion I felt that night was of disappointment.
I carried my son for 9 months, went through excruciating labor, had to be cut open and put into a dark room by myself for an hour, and I was the last person to get to hold my son. I waited 9 months to feel a love so great that most people cant explain it. I waited 9 months to hold my child, and put him to my breast to seal our mother-son bond. I waited 9 months to be a mother, and by the time I finally got to hold him; I felt nothing.
Liam was always a very independent baby. In the hospital they actually nicknamed him spiderman because he was incredibly strong, lifting his head and keeping it up the day after he was born; Rolling over from belly to back 2 days after birth. He was an extraordinary baby.
We had polar opposite personalities and still do, to this day. I yearned for cuddles and a sleeping baby on my chest, and he always wanted to be alert and moving, never held for very long. Our personalities alone made bonding very difficult. Nothing was the way I anticipated. Every mom I spoke to during my pregnancy, painted a picture of an out of this world love that you had to experience to believe. Where was my moment? What did I do wrong?
I often wondered if God was punishing me for getting pregnant outside of wedlock; if my many years of teenage rebellion had caught up with me, leading up to this undeserving karma. What did I do wrong to deserve this? Did I have anyone to blame other than myself?
These are still questions I ask myself, believe it or not. I still don’t quite understand why things went that way for me. I sum up that part of my life by saying; Life just happens and you have to play the cards that you are dealt.
My birth experience was not perfect. I left the hospital with my new baby boy, a confused heart, a completely botched incision that later had to be fixed, and the trauma of an experience that I will hold with me my entire life.
So listen to me, if you are a teenager, or a mother-to-be at any age in life, fight for your birth experience. No, not everything is going to go your way; But, educate yourself and know your rights. Do not let yourself be taken advantage of. Your birth experience wont only effect you and your emotions and hormones, it can and will effect your baby.
I suffered from postpartum depression, which I believe stems 100 percent from my birth experience. My depression effected my son, which deeply saddens me. Do you see how if one thing goes slightly wrong during child birth, it can cause an immense domino effect? I dragged my son into my downward spiral of depression, and with a heavy heart I want to honestly tell you that I never experienced that incredibly bond with my son. I never felt the spark, I never got the butterflies.
I wish that somewhere along the way, someone would have painted me a more realistic picture of child birth. I would have loved to hear the ugly side of child birth before diving in with such high hopes. So here I am, telling you my story; the good, the bad, and the ugly truths of child birth in America.
Liam is now 5 years old and was recently diagnosed with High Functioning Autism, Asperger's spectrum, with a secondary diagnosis of ADHD. He is an extraordinary child, and makes everyday interesting; to say the least. He is smart beyond his years, gets himself into a whole lot of trouble, but has a heart of gold.
I can say with total confidence that I must have done something right, because my son loves people like no child I’ve ever known. And despite our crazy uphill battles that led us to where we are today, we are working on our bond together, and I believe that someday in our near future, we will finally feel that spark.
