The Truth About Birth

I decided to post this photo up because I want to be as real as possible – and well, this is as real as it gets. That was me on Isaac’s birth date, and I honestly wasn’t feeling my best. I felt sick (dizzy and nauseated), was exhausted (hadn’t slept in 2 days) and just wanted to pack up and go home. (But obviously couldn’t because there was a baby about to come out of me.)

“I can’t do this”, I thought to myself.

“Yes, you can”, I fought back.

My mind was tired. Everything was a blur. I didn’t even know what time it was or what day it was, even.

I just wanted for it all to be over.

“It’s been a really long time since I’ve felt ok.”

“I just want to eat again.”

“How did I survive a pregnancy once more?”

“Can you take off all these tubes and just let me go home, please.”

Thoughts like these were floating around in my head the entire seven hours I was in active labour. I didn’t even know what I was thinking of half the time.

And then Isaac arrived. After three pushes in nine minutes, he arrived.

He was here!!!

After all the pain and discomfort I went through, my rainbow baby has arrived. I should have been elated…

But I felt nothing. I was numb. I was too exhausted to even WANT to hold him and held him out of sheer obligation because the midwife insisted I do skin-to-skin with my newborn.

You see, no one told me this.

No one told me the truth about birth.

I went into the delivery suite expecting to come out a few kilograms lighter and with the new love of my life – my baby.

But I’ve given birth twice and that has never happened. Not the first time, and certainly not the second time round either.

No one tells you how the sheer anticipation of your little bundle of joy (and of course, labour itself) can completely wipe you out.

And no one tells you how grossed out you will feel after you shoot a baby out of your vagina.

The blood. The amniotic fluid. The placenta (that’s basically like a huge bloodied mass that weighs about 500g). Not to mention, having to put your legs up in the stirrups for a stranger to see you in all your (bloodied) glory AND have him/her stitch you up.

… Tell me now. How am I supposed to fall in love with my baby with all this going on? I barely even saw what he looked like because I could not keep my eyes open, anyway.

And honestly, I just wanted everyone to leave me alone. I wanted to be cleaned up as fast as humanly possible. I wanted to curl up into a ball and go to sleep.

Fast forward 12 hours and finally feeling somewhat human again.

Seeing this photo again brings back all types of feels because this was the moment I first held Isaac in my arms. This was the moment I saw his face (and thought – hey another photocopy of Kevin). This was the moment I vowed to protect him until he grew wings to set up his own nest away from ours. This was the moment I fell in love with my son, my little boy.

Author: joannaerin

Wife. Mother. Daughter. Sister. Friend.

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