Without going into too much detail, here's the short of it: My water broke when I farted in my living room on a Friday night (wait, I said not too much detail, didn't I? Oops) and after doing everything humanly possible to start laboring on my own (my midwives & mom & sister & sweet husband were amazing & supportive), we finally gave in to the dreaded Pitocin- which definitely got me going- had the epidural- & then pushed unsuccessfully for 2+ hours. She was stuck- with her head facing the ceiling, not the ground like she was supposed to be positioned.
So on Sunday evening after what felt like an eternity of delirium, exhaustion, pain, uncontrollable shaking, itchiness (from the drugs) hunger (I hadn't eaten "solid" food since i was checked in to the hospital-sorry but broth & jello doesn't cut it) I reluctantly was rolled into the OR to retrieve my darling baby girl. At that point I had given up. There was nothing I could do. I was spent & numb & disappointed. This was what I didn't want to happen. The only thing that mattered then was getting her out safely. And hear me when i say that I am truly grateful that she is a wonderful, perfectly healthy little girl. But having a c-section was totally anticlimactic for me. I felt like I was in another world & a little incoherent. When she finally was out & I heard her tiny cry - I was so RELIEVED. When I thought about her birth, when I imagined what it might be like, I pictured myself being elated, crying with joy, looking at Zack in the eyes & having this euphoric moment between the 3 of us. This was not a disillusioned scene on TV, this was my experience. In reality, I was so sad to be laying there on that table with my body cut open, not able to move or hold her. I just wanted to hold her!!! (& yes, I am totally sobbing as I type this).....
I tried to explain it to Zack. I told him that it's kinda like being really really constipated for 9 months & then not having the satisfaction of finally pushing the "load" out. (Sorry, I had to revert to man speak. My baby is not a turd).
Also, when you have a c-section, the level of oxytocin (that bonding agent) is lessened, which in turn, results in a decreased maternal instinct. I think I heard somewhere (maybe the documentary "The Business of Being Born") that when mammals in a zoo are put to sleep to have their babies via surgery, the chances of them actually mothering their baby declines. Not to say that I fully believe that or that I don't have those instincts, I certainly do, but after reading some other birth stories, I definitely wasn't instantly knocked over by this overwhelming feeling of love. That was hard to type. I'm just being honest.
All this to say, it was rough. It was brutal to experience. I was an emotional basket case for awhile there. And I'm still working out & wondering what the good Lord has for me within all of it. I did get that I am not in control of anything (duh) but that in the midst of all the unknown, to have faith that love always prevails. It always does.
I love my daughter ferociously & she is most definitely the greatest joy in my life. It was just the coming out part that sucked.
*insert very large sigh right here*