A scar that is going to the grave with me that I will carry forever.
I have cried over this scar because of what a story it carries. We all have scars but this one gets me. My beautiful son is here.
Tears of joy.
Of courage.
Of loss.
Of resentment.
Of shame.
Of pain.
Of love.
Of gratitude.
I had an expectation. There was only one way to have a baby. Get married. Water breaks. Rush to hospital. Feet in stirrups. Push. Skin to skin. Kind of like the movies. Pride. Relief. Happiness. Exhaustion.
My plan didn’t go as planned that day/night. Early delivery at 38 weeks. Labouring at home. A horrible drive to town after coming home on a shot of morphine and back we went. The local bypass road still gives me the shivers with how many bumps it had that night. Baby in the other room. No recollection of the first night with my son. It was quite the 48 hours let’s say that.
I had been labouring at home for quite some time cooking a delicious roasted chicken to be exact. My belly wasn’t feeling good so I decided to go to the hospital and just have a look. They said I was only 2cm and that I wasn’t progressing enough so away home I went on a shot of morphine to help me relax and said to come back by 12pm. I went back to the hospital at 4-6cm and was ready to be admitted at 10:30 PM I definitely couldn’t wait until 12 at home any longer. Then they asked… would you like an epidural? At that point I would take anything. 10 minutes later it all happened. I was paralyzed from my neck down. The epidural was put too high in my spine and left me completely numb from my neck down. The headache… I just remember squeezing my head it hurt so bad. Not able to lift my own head into a puke bucket. 10 cm and I couldn’t feel a thing. Wylder’s heart rate dropped, so did mine. My blood sugar was completely down. I was white. All I can remember after that is getting raced down the hallway. Not having Jeremy beside me for a while scared me but I was too high to know anything and all of sudden he got to come in the room. He was so scared… They just left him in the hallway and didn’t say anything to him. Especially seeing me in the state leaving the room. Two minutes later we hear crying… He’s here!
They put him on my chest, and I couldn’t breathe. Hours later (I didn’t know I was in recovery for so long). I missed the first skin to skin. Jeremy got to have the little man for a couple hours while I recovered. All I remember is me going back to the room and not even a second into the room they put Wylder on my boob. I can’t even remember the first night, they let me rest as much as I could. I never got to do diaper changes, cuddle or anything. I couldn’t feel my hips and lower for over 24 hours, let alone do anything.
I texted everyone when I came too and found out the little man was born on my grandma’s birthday. She is no longer with us and I have always believed in angels and believe she is the reason we are both here safe and sound and healthy as can be. Wylder’s umbilical cord was wrapped around his neck twice… Everything that could go wrong went wrong. I had nurses come in the next day say I heard about the tornado… Them looking at each other like that wasn’t supposed to happen.. They had to come into the room the next day and explain to me what all happened and if I had questions. I didn’t even know what to ask. The care I received after was incredible and needed. Amazing staff. Everyone was so helpful.
All I know is I thank Dr. Brussow all the time when I see him. I took his wife and friends hiking and all he kept saying to me is I know how tough you are, you fight grizzlies. To walk into the room after he received a call to come do a c-section and tell Jeremy she’s fine when I was heading off to surgery. That’s all Jeremy needed to hear because what he witnessed it didn’t look fine at all.
My body is slowly recovering and I’m okay with that. Things take time. We are all mothers no matter what way your baby comes out, or how you get your baby.
There are moments I still mourn for a “regular” delivery. While I may not yet accept my journey to deliver my son, I do honour the process. I honour my life as a mother. And, I honour yours too.
But today I looked at Wylder and my scar and said what a story. This is not a sympathy post this is just me sharing my story. That things don’t go as planned sometimes but they always work out. From one mama to another, I honour you, your journey, your construction. Your vulnerability is always welcome here.
Thanks for letting me share mine.
A photo of me holding my little man for the first time that I will cherish forever. Even though I couldn’t feel him on my chest or arms, Jeremy helped me hold him.
