Lately, I've been grappling with the guilt and questions that come with being a Momma.
A momma who is struggling to hold herself & her family up in the middle of the biggest transition.
And I know other Momma's out there are facing similar things.
That guilt that creeps in.
The guilt that is the gift that keeps on giving when you become a Momma.
As endless the love is that we have for our children
so is the guilt.
The love for them is as vast as the sky. There is no beginning. There is no end. It simply is.
And unfortunately that guilt can be just as endless. It can be the giant rain cloud that covers up the beautiful blue sky. And we have to learn to navigate around it.
Not always an easy task.
We are faced with this tremendously awe-inspiring task of caring for a totally dependent individual.
A constant vigil.
It never ends.
In fact, it happens so quickly and fiercely that you can't even see the point at which it started.
There is no definitive moment.
Some may say that this vigil, the watch guard post - and the guilt - begins upon finding out you are now carrying this new life within.
Some may say that it occurs when you've decided natural childbirth is archaic and the decision to opt out for a relatively pain-free delivery. And that is a relative term, mind you. Pain free delivery. Yeah, uh-huh, sure.
Some say that it begins the moment that new life is physically in your arms.
But it happens. And again, the process is so swift, so thorough that it really is hard to determine when it happens. But it does.
So as new mothers - or just mothers - we take on this monumental task of constant caring, nurturing, rearing, guiding, loving, empathizing, hurting, pining. You name it, we are i-n-ging it. But we're happy to do it. It's the greatest of works. The fruits of constant tending and work that cannot be compared to anything else.
The power we possess so raw, so carnal. The ability to alert or cloudy-eyed cubs of our presence by just walking in the room - because of our scent.
The power to soothe with the merest of hums in tiny, sweet ears.
The power to comfort and protect with the warmness of our breast and arms, wrapping our cubs in the thickest of fortresses.
But with that power comes awesome responsibility.
And with that responsibility comes questions, swift looks back and hoping that it went well.
We wonder quietly, if we did any damage on those days where we were weary from an all-nighter and operated on auto-pilot.
We wonder if those days where we are frazzled beyond oblivion when all we can do is bleat-bleat answers - not ever really hearing the questions. And realize as head hits pillow that they are moments that are forever lost.
But we try.
We work our hearts and fingers to nubs.
We never fully take credit for the wonders that we are responsible for.
Instead, we second-guess.
We think that it's never enough.
We think it's all wrong. We're doing it all wrong.
And certainly, it's never story-book.
But considering what we're up against, we're pretty damned good at it.
If we asked our kids who were the best mommies in the whole-wide-world, what do we think the answer would be?
And true, some day they may question our abilities, our actions, our intentions, or how well we did.
But in time, they do come around and see just how hard we tried.
How hard we did.
How much we loved
and still love.
Mistakes will be made.
Yes.
Absolutely no doubt.
But in between the mistakes, and the guilt, the brand new cub and the adult they grow up to be is the best of us. The best of us that we give to them. And that questioning and the guilt shows just how seriously we take this job. We want to do it just right.
And if we didn't question, if we didn't care - we wouldn't wear our guilt and worry like the hottest new skirt or shoes for all to see.
In that time -the in betweens - are the moments that rest on sleepy eyelashes, toddler giggles, and chubby-armed hugs, the dirty fingerprints on everything, the countless buttercups handed over to us, the campy arts and crafts, the pb&j kisses. Those moments are just for us.
And we work so hard for them. We don't ask for them. They are handed over so lovingly, so generously.
The guilt is an occupational hazard, for sure.
It's there to stay.
But.
They'll be OK.
And so will we. I think.
Yeah.
So will we.
Showing posts with label child birth. Show all posts
Showing posts with label child birth. Show all posts
7/23/07
6/10/07
Sunday Morning Song of the Moment
I wish I knew how to adequately start this post.
Quite frankly, I'm a wreck.
I'm smiling.
I'm joking.
On the outside.
On the inside, I'm trying to make pieces fit.
And the fact that Connor is with us and is OK, should be enough.
But there are things that come back to me in my mind's eye that I can't shake off.
There's the knowledge of the fact that your son tip-toed on a razor's edge.
And seconds, which seem so insignificant in the course of days, years, and lives could have made all of the difference in my world.
And they have.
We were lucky.
We are lucky.
If you've been reading here for any length of time, you know just how important music is to me. Upon the birth of both of the kids, I have made several, several CD's for them.
And the song that always brings me back to being a first time Momma, huddled in the soft cocoon of Connor's nursery, rocking and holding for what seemed years on end was and is Beautiful Boy (Darling Boy) by John Lennon. I wanted to save this song and share it on his birthday. But I think it is most fitting to share today.
Again, thank you all for your thoughts, prayers, and well-wishes. It means so much. You'll all never know just how comforting it has been.
Enjoy the song :)
Quite frankly, I'm a wreck.
I'm smiling.
I'm joking.
On the outside.
On the inside, I'm trying to make pieces fit.
And the fact that Connor is with us and is OK, should be enough.
But there are things that come back to me in my mind's eye that I can't shake off.
There's the knowledge of the fact that your son tip-toed on a razor's edge.
And seconds, which seem so insignificant in the course of days, years, and lives could have made all of the difference in my world.
And they have.
We were lucky.
We are lucky.
If you've been reading here for any length of time, you know just how important music is to me. Upon the birth of both of the kids, I have made several, several CD's for them.
And the song that always brings me back to being a first time Momma, huddled in the soft cocoon of Connor's nursery, rocking and holding for what seemed years on end was and is Beautiful Boy (Darling Boy) by John Lennon. I wanted to save this song and share it on his birthday. But I think it is most fitting to share today.
Again, thank you all for your thoughts, prayers, and well-wishes. It means so much. You'll all never know just how comforting it has been.
Enjoy the song :)
10/2/06
Grace Alison
I was due with Gracie on July 20, 2004. I knew she would be close to on schedule. On July 21st around, 5:30 p.m I began having strong contractions. We head to the hospital, where we meet my mom & stepdad. My mom stays with us and my stepdad takes Connor with him. We go in and I'm having regular contractions, but I'm only at 3 cm's. I know instantly that they're going to cut me loose. And based on my track record, I know I'm in labor. Just not progressing. They monitor me for about an hour, give me a sleeping pill, tell me to take a shower and kick me out.
We hop in the car, with my mom in tow - we have to take her to her house & get Connor. Now, my mom lives all of 15 mins. from the hospital. In that time, I begin having pains that could choke a chicken. And my mom is in the backseat, laughing and trying to relieve the 'tension'. I was in so much pain & so tired of hearing her, that at one point, I was going to tell Ravioli to stop the car and either she gets out or I do.
We get to her house and I am in unbelieveable pain. I'm in the bathroom, hanging over the sink. Kas walks in and asks if I'm ok. "NO! I'M NOT OK!!!!!!" I finally have my fill and we head BACK to the hospital.
They plop my ass in a wheelchair and sit me in.a.waiting.room. Thanks. There are other soon-to be mom's in there. Chatting away. Talking about nonsense. They all look to be anywhere from 5-7 months. And a nurse calls one of them back to go into a room. The expectant mom says to the nurse, "Ah, don't you think you should take her first?" (talking about me) Because I was in there moaning and cursing.........
They finally take me back and I get the original nurse that sent me home to begin with. And by now, my mood has greatly changed. I'm in so much pain.....my glasses were on & I'm fighting through a contraction and I spat out to Rav, "WOULD YOU TAKE THESE GLASSES OFF OF MY FACE!!!!!!" The nurse says, "Oh yeah, she's in labor." They give me an epidural. Rav falls asleep and I am left to sit awake. All.damn.night. Everytime I try to sleep and just begin to fall out........here she comes. My mother.
As is my MO, I take forever to progress. In the early dawn hours, I feel the urge to push. I push for 5 minutes, and at 6:45 a.m. on July 22nd, Gracie - all 8+ lbs of her - is wailing away.
We hop in the car, with my mom in tow - we have to take her to her house & get Connor. Now, my mom lives all of 15 mins. from the hospital. In that time, I begin having pains that could choke a chicken. And my mom is in the backseat, laughing and trying to relieve the 'tension'. I was in so much pain & so tired of hearing her, that at one point, I was going to tell Ravioli to stop the car and either she gets out or I do.
We get to her house and I am in unbelieveable pain. I'm in the bathroom, hanging over the sink. Kas walks in and asks if I'm ok. "NO! I'M NOT OK!!!!!!" I finally have my fill and we head BACK to the hospital.
They plop my ass in a wheelchair and sit me in.a.waiting.room. Thanks. There are other soon-to be mom's in there. Chatting away. Talking about nonsense. They all look to be anywhere from 5-7 months. And a nurse calls one of them back to go into a room. The expectant mom says to the nurse, "Ah, don't you think you should take her first?" (talking about me) Because I was in there moaning and cursing.........
They finally take me back and I get the original nurse that sent me home to begin with. And by now, my mood has greatly changed. I'm in so much pain.....my glasses were on & I'm fighting through a contraction and I spat out to Rav, "WOULD YOU TAKE THESE GLASSES OFF OF MY FACE!!!!!!" The nurse says, "Oh yeah, she's in labor." They give me an epidural. Rav falls asleep and I am left to sit awake. All.damn.night. Everytime I try to sleep and just begin to fall out........here she comes. My mother.
As is my MO, I take forever to progress. In the early dawn hours, I feel the urge to push. I push for 5 minutes, and at 6:45 a.m. on July 22nd, Gracie - all 8+ lbs of her - is wailing away.
Connor D-Daniel D-Dettori
As I'm writing this, let me just clear up right now that it is 1:38 p.m. Monday afternoon & I'm teetering between buzzed and drunk. I'm doing beer can chicken for dinner, ok? You can't use a full can, or 2....or 3. ANYWAY.
I was due with Connor on 7/22/02. That day came and went. With me being totally miserable, fat and only eating Flavor-Ice's as my appetite was nil.
The days keep coming and going. No baby. Damn.
My in-law's have a rather large yard and every night, after dinner, I'd walk this 'loop' around their yard. Trying to encourage dilation - anything.
One evening, after dinner, I'm having Braxton-Hicks contractions and true to form, begin my nightly walk. Bryan was at work. On the 3-11 shift. Actually, he may have worked a double that day. He gets home around 11:30 and asks how I'm feeling. I tell him, "You know, I've been having the normal fake-me out contractions. I feel weird, but it's probably nothing." He looks at me weary-eyed and says, "You can't go into labor tonight. I'm exhausted." We head up to bed.
I awake at about 2:00 a.m. after being startled awake & feeling like I have to pee - badly. I go into the bathroom and with basically no effort, there is a big "GUSH". I look in the toilet and call out to Ravioli, "Um, this doesn't look like pee. You better get in here." We call the doc, she tells us to go in, and we do. I'm feeling no pain. Nothing, other than the constant leaking.
I go into my holding cell, they confirm that my water broke, but I'm barely dialated. After awhile, they send me to an actual room. The nurse says, "I see here honey, that you want to deliver naturally. With no drugs. I say, there's nobody here. The anestesiologist is right out in the hall. Let's get you that epidural now." Sheepishly, shamefully, I consent to the epidural. Bryan is asleep. Damn epidural hurt like hell. Sweet dreams, Bry.
I sit, the rest of the 'morning' and into daylight, awake. Nothing is happening. They keep checking me and I'm not progressing. I'm stuck at 3....barely to 4....by 5:45 p.m. the next day I'm stalled at 5. They give me some time and the same. The nurses and docs descend on me to tell me I'm being wheeled in for a C-section, but before that, check me & I'm up to 8 or 9 centimeters. FINALLY.
The nurse announces that I can begin to push. And I did. And began having a 'movement' so-to-speak. Totally emabarrassing. I pushed for 40 minutes and at 7:27 p.m. on 7/27/02, Connor Daniel was welcomed to the world.
I was due with Connor on 7/22/02. That day came and went. With me being totally miserable, fat and only eating Flavor-Ice's as my appetite was nil.
The days keep coming and going. No baby. Damn.
My in-law's have a rather large yard and every night, after dinner, I'd walk this 'loop' around their yard. Trying to encourage dilation - anything.
One evening, after dinner, I'm having Braxton-Hicks contractions and true to form, begin my nightly walk. Bryan was at work. On the 3-11 shift. Actually, he may have worked a double that day. He gets home around 11:30 and asks how I'm feeling. I tell him, "You know, I've been having the normal fake-me out contractions. I feel weird, but it's probably nothing." He looks at me weary-eyed and says, "You can't go into labor tonight. I'm exhausted." We head up to bed.
I awake at about 2:00 a.m. after being startled awake & feeling like I have to pee - badly. I go into the bathroom and with basically no effort, there is a big "GUSH". I look in the toilet and call out to Ravioli, "Um, this doesn't look like pee. You better get in here." We call the doc, she tells us to go in, and we do. I'm feeling no pain. Nothing, other than the constant leaking.
I go into my holding cell, they confirm that my water broke, but I'm barely dialated. After awhile, they send me to an actual room. The nurse says, "I see here honey, that you want to deliver naturally. With no drugs. I say, there's nobody here. The anestesiologist is right out in the hall. Let's get you that epidural now." Sheepishly, shamefully, I consent to the epidural. Bryan is asleep. Damn epidural hurt like hell. Sweet dreams, Bry.
I sit, the rest of the 'morning' and into daylight, awake. Nothing is happening. They keep checking me and I'm not progressing. I'm stuck at 3....barely to 4....by 5:45 p.m. the next day I'm stalled at 5. They give me some time and the same. The nurses and docs descend on me to tell me I'm being wheeled in for a C-section, but before that, check me & I'm up to 8 or 9 centimeters. FINALLY.
The nurse announces that I can begin to push. And I did. And began having a 'movement' so-to-speak. Totally emabarrassing. I pushed for 40 minutes and at 7:27 p.m. on 7/27/02, Connor Daniel was welcomed to the world.
9/24/06
Every Rose Has It's Thorn
Is this or is this not the most pathetic picture you've ever seen? Not many people have seen this picture. I couldn't bear to put it in any photo albums because everytime I looked at it, I could feel the labor pains. I found it tonight, stashed amongst pictures that I had forgotten about.For whatever reason, I'm in a sharing mood & figured since I haven't really shared this with anybody, I'd share it with everybody!
How embarrassing. However, as Connor gets older, I can whip this bad boy out & lay on a little guilt when necessary...........I'd never do that. Not me.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
