C-section blues...

"When you were born I held you wet and unfolding, like a butterfly newly born from the chrysalis of my body." - Joy Harjo, "Rainy Dawn," In Mad Love and War (1990)

There... there is a quote I painfully read. My heart aches and bleeds feelings of regret and jealously towards those who can relate to them.


I can taste them on the tip of my tongue, but know I will (probably) never truly know the full flavor of each poetic word...


Lately I've been obsessing over baby shows. Watching the new moms embrace their new, fresh, sweet babies into their open arms, tears staining their faces... breathing each other in at that first moment... that moment where the baby emerges and the next thing you know it they're resting on your chest. 9 months of waiting and you finally get to hold that gentle little soul that has been your company day in and day out every single day for 40 or so weeks.


This obsession is not a good one for me, but I can't seem to pull myself away from watching... I envy them... I WANT that... that moment... the moment I missed. It breaks my heart to even think about now.


Yes, I understand that if I hadn't had the c-section, David would never of made it... and his safety is all that matters to me... but there's still this empty place inside of me where that moment was meant to go. That treasured moment most mom's get to have. I have found myself remembering when my niece was born 2 years ago, and feeling envy now at how smoothly her birth went... how beautiful that moment was for my sister in law and my brother... watching her enter this world and celebrating it.

Envy...
Jealousy...
Heartbreak...

I keep reminding myself I didn't have a choice... and I feel like that should be good enough to make the pain go away... but it doesn't. All I can think about is when I saw them take him away... I only got to look at him... brush my fingers on the top of his head... and then "poof" he was gone... my hopes and dreams of holding him vanished for the next 3-4 hours while I was being stitched back up and put into recovery. The only way I kept myself sane was to talk to every nurse or doctor that came by about how excited I was to finally hold him... "How much longer till I can see him?" "is it time yet?" they would come back and tell me I had to be able to move my legs first. So I sat there and focused... it was like the scene in "Kill Bill" where she says to herself, "wiggle your big toe.... wiggle your big toe..." I did just that... over and over and over again... I would feel a slight movement but nothing they could see. So the waiting continued.

The moment I first saw him would flash in my mind over and over again as I faded in and out of drugged sleep... when I was awake I would cry happy and sad tears at the same time...

I remember feeling jealous and slightly angry that my husband whom I love so much was up there in the nursery with our precious gift. I shouldn't of felt that way... David was safe, he was healthy, he was with his daddy... but I wanted to be the first one to hold him... to kiss his head...

Any way...

I guess I've been feeling like I've been losing my mind over this... the thoughts and memories and feelings have kept me awake at night, tossing and turning. The voice in my head reminding me that his health is what was most important and I know that... I understand that... but I still miss that moment I never got to have.

I'm so very bonded with my little boy, but I wonder, what if I had had that moment, would we be even closer? I was so afraid he wouldn't know me by the time I got out of recovery... what a silly thought... that the baby who knew me from the very first moment of life wouldn't know me after only 3-4 hours of being away from me...

I guess I am silly... but I can't shake these feelings... and I wonder, will there be hope for that moment with my next child? Or will that hole, that blank spot, get bigger?

On that note, I'm going to go snuggle with my little love muffin, hold him close, breathe him in... the way we like to be.

~Krista