pregnant with Gigi (my first) we did all the normal things to get ready for
baby- baby shower, assembling the crib, choosing a name and going to birthing class.
It was a standard class, no special method. I didn't give much
thought to any method because I knew I just wanted to have the baby- get an
epidural and get the baby out! I heard the teacher break down all the
info of the C-section, but I purposely tuned out and went to daydream land
instead because I knew that would never happen to
me...nothing was wrong or would go wrong- I was healthy, I was strong, everything would be normal.
I was just that confident....or ignorant or naive.
Take your pick.
a few months.....
weeks pregnant and well in doctor land- thats all the time you get kid! So
induction it is. They measure me (ahem, cervical check) and.....drum roll
please....I measure....Nada, Zippo, Zilch, Nothing, a BIG fat 0....at 42 weeks?
really?!! Depressing. Hit me with the patocin and away we go.
getting an epidural, having it taken out and placed lower, having my water
broken, laboring for more than thirty hours, worrying of contractions being too
strong....then being worried the contractions were not strong enough, being
concerned of the baby's heart rate, spiking a fever...the Doc comes in and
delivers "the news" that we need to make the decision of moving
forward with an emergency C-Section, as if we really had a choice in the
matter....I cried.... ugly cry, weeped of disappointment, discouragement and
complete and utter failure. This was not supposed to happen. After mourning the
loss of my perfect delivery moment, we gave our consent to the Doc and the rest
was a crazy blur....I was surrounded by a flock of people preping my poor
exhausted and round body for surgery, someone was chatting up me and hubs about
the possibility of me dying in surgery (wow, really?! thats always fun to
hear). Then I was ushered off to the surgery room without the husband...since
he cannot be in there with me at the beginning of things because of some I am
sure good reason...
was...prepped for surgery. naked. ALONE. surrounded by a dozen people. People
doing their job I am sure perfectly, but all not having the time to see the
problem...ME, you know the human being- the thing on the table with their life
at risk, you know the thing with flesh and bones, a heart and feelings.
all things comforting and familiar. For that 10 minutes before Mike was allowed
back in I was filled with crazy anxiety and fear, so prayer was all I got and
all I needed....Lord, Lord. I don't think I even formed an actual prayer, just
his name was all I could muster in the moment...Mike comes in and we get
anesthesiologist kept asking me...pain or pressure? pain or pressure? on scale
of 1-10? I must have given the wrong answer, because instead of being awake,
aware and observant for my first born child's birth...
under.... knocked out cold...
(and still am) devastated to miss the moment of my first-born's birth does not
even cut it. I will never have another FIRST. This was a monumental, no... HUGE
milestone...in my life..and I missed it!!! And it wasn't my fault...why did I
get knocked out?!!! That is something I specifically requested not to
happen...ever. But alas there I was...
up...numb. naked. ALONE. I was confused...wait, where am I? What happened?
Where is Mike? Where is my baby?!!!!!!
could set in the nurse came over saying everything went fine, baby is healthy,
and my husband is with her....oh, and here is a picture of your baby.
time mother. I just gave birth to my child. I was out cold. So my first, first experience
of my child is a...picture. I was so, so confused. Wait, this is
my child? How do you know? This kid in the picture doesn't look like me...she
could have handed me any picture from any album and I would have had NO IDEA it
was my child....
shouldn't I know? Aren't I supposed to bond with my child right away? Look at
them sweetly and say, "Oh of course...its you!". A moment of
recognition. A moment of realization. Discovery. Introduction. Nope...a
the baby, I did not want to take him away from that....so I had to lay there
for a whole hour (ahem, an eternity!) until I got sensation back in my body to
be allowed to go to a room and finally meet my daughter!
happened. Finally. I met her. She was wrapped up. Cozy. Little. Sweet. And
disoriented, I was still angry from the whole thing, I still didn't feel any
quick moment of bonding between me and my child. Shoot, the nurse could have
mixed up the kids and handed me the wrong child and I still would not have
known any different. But I knew one thing....
grew bigger in that moment. I knew I Loved HER...and I would Forever.
Here was something that was created out of Love by the hand of our
Lord....beautifully and wonderfully made for US!
on the events of this day, August 9th 2009...at every turn something went
wrong, something went in the opposite direction I planned. Not joking,
every turn. After the dust settled my heart still was harboring feelings of
anger, hatred, bitterness, resentment, failure, and lies, so many lies.
day in my head a billion times over that I forgave...everyone. Everyone that
day did their job. No one purposefully was at fault for how I felt. But I,
Cassie, needed to forgive them in order for me, Cassie to heal and move on. I
even needed to forgive myself. Its weird I know ...I had to forgive the people
that did no wrong to me in order for me to forgive myself for being angry,
bitter and harboring so much hate in my heart. So that is what I did. Washed
the slate clean...
I forgave the doctor, the nurses, one by one I was
visualizing them in the day and I forgave them....then it came to the
anesthesiologist....that was the toughest. He was just doing his job, I know,
they all were, but he was the one that robbed me of my "moment" ...
the moment for more than 9 months I was dreaming of, fantasizing about and
looking forward to...he was the toughest, but I did it.
I mentally walked out of that room in my mind and left my dirty heart on the surgery table...that
yucky heart full of the filth of anger, hatred and bitterness...It wasn't easy,
in fact it would muster back into my heart sometimes and I had to push it back,
but I did it.
leave my victim self on the table. Leave it for good. I am not a victim. I am
It was hard, but it was a relief. I let it go. All of it. Now, I had to address
the LIES that were robbing me of my joy of being a new mom:
Failure = You're not a good mom = You are missing out on a "right of
passage" moment =your not strong enough = you are inferior.....blah. blah.
blah. shit. all of it. shit.
perpetuate this filth? In our hearts and in our speech?! This was and
still is the long road to healing...
where I do not want to go on a negative rant. This is where I have written
several drafts of this post.
post to continue to be about my journey towards something good when
something unexpected happened to me.....Please note I
say unexpected and not bad.
are not bad. They are extremely extremely good.
brought my daughter into this world alive, healthy and unharmed.
allowed me to be alive, healthy, and heal.
ago some poor woman was in my position one day and did not have the resources
available to her when she needed it to bring her child into the world or even
to save her life. I am grateful. Blessed to live in a time when faced
against life threatening situations in birth for both mom and baby a routine surgery
can be performed to save both lives, so very matter of fact....no biggie.
is huge!! This is big!! C-sections are so very good. Praise the good Lord for
his mercy to provide a way for us to bring more life safely into this world.
Beautiful. Precious. Life.
through 2 C-sections (yes, I chose to have my second!...I
wasn't put under! It was an amazing experience, but another story) I do not and
will not ever understand why this is such a taboo subject. It is true
sometimes I think....Am I missing out on something by not giving birth (the
more natural way)? I will probably never experience certain sensations that a
woman is made to experience...am I sad about this? Maybe a little, but then I
look at my children and I forget. The whole point of giving birth is to bring a
child into the world, not for the mom to have an "experience". So I
focus on my children. I focus on life.
itself was not the issue for me, it was the loss of my perfect plan (R.I.P.P.P
// rest in peace perfect plan) and mourning the loss of my mommy moment of my child being born since I was knocked out (which I am still not sure at all what the
miscommunication was....oh but I forgave him...ok moving on)...
Advice for any preggo mom: mentally prepare yourself for all birthing outcomes! By all means plan plan plan on having your child the way you want. But consider preparing and having a solution for all possible outcomes- this would have provided me with so much more peace and would have allowed for a better, not perfect, but better transition.
give God some serious props for giving me a great gift, a miracle even....
knocked out right?!! Well, I do remember Gigi's first cry. Through blurry eyes
and foggy brain, I remember her being taken from behind the blue curtain,
crying, over to my right where all the measuring and weight stuff was....I have
relayed this info to Mike and he confirms all the details as I recall them...so
I am not crazy, God just loves me that much, He threw me a bone ;)...I wasn't
deprived of the whole moment. Thank you Jesus. I will hold on
to that silver lining the rest of my life.***
learned through all of this brokenness is one really important lesson....
for the imperfect. Compassion for myself in my imperfectness. Compassion for the imperfectness in others.
God has a plan. It is perfect. It is good.
an imperfect world. shortcomings and disappointments are just a reality. So the
sooner I realize that the better and the sooner I can let my heart grow in love, forgiveness and
compassion for others rather than grow in resentment and bitterness.
too short. We do not have time. It is not worth a second of our time.
Compassion. Love. Understanding. That is what I will embrace. That is what I
will try and live by.
When days are dark and rough and I let my "victim self" back in my heart, I look at my children, my treasures, and I remember it is...
ALL WORTH IT. And I would do it all over again.
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