this too, shall pass.

i found pictures from the day teddy was born, and i'm flooded with memories. the exhaustion of the first 48 hours trying to progress. the excitement and anticipation when the doctor told me i was finally at a 9.5 and would probably start pushing within the hour. the fear when the hour passed, and then another hour, and when we realized i'd developed a fever, and the baby had moved into a dangerous position. the helplessness when they told me we absolutely needed to go in for an emergency c section.

the relief of hearing his low, long cry for the first time.
the blur of him being swept away for tests moments after.

i remember telling gideon to stay with him; to not let that little baby out of his sight. 

and as they wheeled me back into my room, i remember seeing a puddle of blood on the floor, realizing it was mine, and that i'd literally been cut open in order to pull a small person out of me. i remember feeling delirious and devastated.



holding him for the first time (below), i marveled how it was possible that he fit so perfectly into my arms. i remember he'd stop crying when gideon or i started talking. he fell asleep immediately after they put him on my chest. i remember his perfect coos and sighs. i remember wondering if/how i'd ever use the bathroom again.

i remember for days my face feeling sticky and tear stained, regretting the decision to not bring make up to the hospital, and wishing i was the kind of mother who looks naturally flawless after delivery. i remember not being able to talk about the c section for weeks without bursting into tears, and feeling like i'd failed at motherhood before i'd even started.

i remember knowing vaguely that my life would never be the same, and yet also feeling like he'd been with us forever.

and just like that-- that same baby, is now my crawling explorer, a lover of strawberries, and a gnawer of noses. he's eight months, and happy and healthy. and so am i. (discounting the special edition oreos, girl scout cookies, and ice cream i ate earlier, obvi...)

 and i just want to write this reminder for myself; to remember for the next time life surprises me and scares me- i can do hard things. i can go through something that makes me feel betrayed, heartbroken and devastated, and make it out thriving. 

and life is more good than it is bad. 

and laughing is better than crying.

and i can do hard things. more than once. xo


"this too shall pass."
for all worldly things shall, indeed, pass.

when i am heavy with heartache
i shall console myself that this, too, shall pass.

when i am puffed with success
i shall warn myself that this, too, shall pass.

when i am strangled in poverty
i shall tell myself that this, too, shall pass.

when i am burdened with wealth
i shall tell myself that this, too, shall pass.

i will enjoy today's happiness today.
it is not grain to be stored in a box.
it is not wine to be saved in a jar.
it cannot be saved for the morrow.
it must be sown and reaped on the same day.

and this i will do, henceforth.

-og mandino 

i had a c section.

and i just need to talk about it for a second.

i always thought i'd be a champion baby maker/deliverer. i thought i'd have an awesome pregnancy and then i'd march into the hospital and deliver like a friggin amazon woman, and all the nurses would gossip about me: the crazy amazing birther. they'd give me a crown and ask to take a picture with me and my gorgeous baby.

you guys, that's not what happened.

in the delivery room-
i ate too much of the complimentary flavored blue ice...

birth story time:
my doctor scheduled me for an induction at 41 weeks. i labored naturally for about 8 hours (ouch) before the epidural man comes. 24 hours later i'm at a 9.5 and i'm just super excited about my sweet baby that is coming any minute. nurse comes in to take my temperature for the thousandth time. she frowns. i have a fever. the baby's heart rate is up. the doctors are concerned about the possibility of infection. they suggest a c section. i silently tell them with my telepathic powers that my having a c section is impossible, being an amazonian champion birthing queen and all. i politely ask them if we can safely delay the surgery for a little longer and see if i progress the tiny bit more that i need to get to a 10 so i can push ("i know i'd be an awesome pusher- i've been working on these abs for 28 years...") they reluctantly agree, and i make a pact with God that if i can please please please have this baby naturally, (and ideally push him out like the warrior queen that i imagine myself to be) i promise to be super nice to strangers and not swear as much when i drive. i'm confident. the doctor comes back. checks my downstairs region. she feels like i still haven't quite progressed to a 10. she hands me the consent forms for the surgery. i sob. i sign. the (incredible) surgery team takes me to an operating room, cuts me open, pulls my baby out, and takes him away to make sure he's okay. i sob some more.

that's what happened.

can i just say that there's nothing more unnerving than hearing a doctor say the word "scalpel" when you're laying down on a table in an OR and can't move your body?

i didn't expect to have a c section, but i especially didn't expect to feel like such a failure in the case that i did. i didn't expect to feel like i was less of a woman. less of a mother. like there's some sort of club i'm not invited to: "women who actually got to push their baby out," and my nose is pressed up against the window to one of their meetings, but i'm not allowed in, because i have a 4 inch scar running across my lower abdomen.

after i got out of surgery i didn't want to talk to anyone. i felt betrayed. and for some reason i really didn't want anyone to know what had happened. i guess i didn't want people thinking the same silly things i thought about myself. i certainly didn't want pity from anyone.

the one good thing that came from having surgery
was getting to see gid in scrubs. hottie.

people assume that you deliver vaginally (and i guess most women do). the first thing people would say when i saw them was "the first few weeks are so hard, at least you didn't have to have a c section, can you imagine?" (yes. i can.)

here's the thing. i've never had a vaginal birth, but i'm pretty sure whatever kind of delivery you have- it sucks. it's uncomfortable and painful. painless deliveries don't exist, and the stipulation that someone who has a c section goes through more trauma than someone who doesn't could be a little offensive to a mother who had a vaginal delivery (and perhaps has a scar just as long in a different area). people schedule c sections on purpose all the time- some women even prefer them. i know this.

i just still kinda feel like a failure.

it doesn't help that i know a million girls who are expecting this summer, and none of them have had to have surgery, as far as i know. every now and then, when i tell friends about teddy's birth, they'll sigh knowingly and calmly tell me that they experienced the same thing with their kids.

i don't know why it's so comforting. i don't know why knowing someone has felt the same crappy feelings you have feels so good.

so i have a favor, friends: if you had a c section, could you tell me? i know it's immature, and my need to hear about other people's experiences probably sounds catty or at best competitive. i just think hearing that i'm not the only one might help me not feel so isolated.

one more thing: i had a c section. but i have a perfect, healthy, beautiful little baby boy. and as much as i hate that i didn't make the nurses gossip about how good i was at pushing, i have no way of knowing what would have happened if i would have had a vaginal birth like i wanted.

my doctor was worried about the position teddy had gotten into with his heart rate up. she was worried he was sick with my fever and over exhausted from my laboring for so long. she wanted him as safe as possible.

the day after teddy came, my dad flew into town. when he heard about my situation, he thought for a moment, and then quietly said he would have done the same thing my doctor did. at first that irritated me; how dare he side with her--the one who sentenced me to be cut open! but then he told me about a similar patient who'd lost her baby and then passed away a few hours later due to unexpected complications. my point is, i'm lucky. i'm so so lucky.

i've probably lost most of you in this long post that is basically me feeling sorry for myself. thanks for sticking around for the end, friends. you're the best. xo