I had my first taste of things to come when I tried to get out of the hospital bed by myself. I was hit with intense pain and let out a scream. I couldn’t imagine how on earth was I going to manage a newborn if I couldn't even get out of bed. I learned though, that if I took a dose of pain medications about fifteen minutes before trying to walk, I faired better than trying to do it without medication.
Having to depend on pain medications set off a series of events. The pain medications made me drowsy and grumpy. I couldn't hold down a conversation for more than five minutes withoutdozing off in the middle of it. Trying to take care of my newborn was a challenge all its own. With a bruised ego, I often had to hand my precious daughter to my husband or mother to take care of. I felt as though I was letting her down. My daughter needed me, and I was unable to care for her.
The pain medications also made it nearly impossible for me to breast-feed. My daughter couldn't latch on and would scream. In turn, I would start crying, and that only made matters worse. Eventually I threw in the towel and opted for feeding her formula. It broke my heart that again, I was unable to care for my daughter like I wanted to.
Each event would stack on top of the other until I would finally break down in tears. I blamed everything, from not being able to breast-feed, to being unable to hold my daughter, on the C-section. I regretted having the C-section. I felt that if I had just waited a bit longer, and been a bit stronger, I could have delivered my daughter naturally and could have been the mother that she needed. In my mind I was weak and a horrible mother.
Instead of experiencing the miraculous event of giving birth, I had the experience of lying on a cold operating table. I didn't get to watch my daughter's head crown. When they removed her from my body, I did not see her. I missed her grand entrance into the world and into our lives.
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