Karma

[ailbhe]

I had another flashback last night - this time to contractions. The relentless, hard, 30-120 second contractions I had for a month before Linnea was born. The ones I was told were Braxton Hicks until someone actually felt one and expressed considerable surprise that I could still talk. My abdomen would get so hard I couldn't make an impression with my fingers, and I couldn't walk or breathe - but because I could still talk, the medics were led astray. Oopsie.

I spent a while the day before - interestingly, before I read Radegund's birth story - remembering how I'd asked the midwives, somewhere after daylight on Friday but before the last midwife to deal with my labour came on shift, if I was going to hate my baby. I remember being very worried that, if the baby existed at all, which I sincerely doubted at that time, I would resent the 30 hours of hard labour I'd been through at that point.

I don't know how I got through that month, the 38 hours of labour, the 21 minutes of serious in-theatre melee, the three days afterwards when I couldn't walk unaided. I don't know. I'm sitting here, having done it, and I can't imagine how. I think it must be as I said three months ago - I just didn't die, over and over again. And the flashbacks and panic attacks are coming back, and bringing hot rage with them, over and over again.

Someone said to me, on a mailing list, recently, "It's about time you had some good luck, after all that."

I answered, "She's asleep upstairs."

She's asleep again now. She knows how to kick a ball from her door-bouncer. She can almost sit up. She can roll over both ways, and crawl backwards or in 360 degree circles with her tum as the mid-point (what's the technical term for the middle of a circle? epicentre?).

She tries to feed herself with the spoon when she's being given her two teaspoons a day of mashed squish. When she's hungry and placed in a nursing position, she pants like an eager puppy until she can grab me in both hands and eat. She has two teeth, but she only bites when not feeding. Her left lower front tooth is a little crooked; the right one appears straight.

She has some more consonants - goo, buh, tha. She likes to blow raspberries to express pleasure or what sounds like irritated swearing. She sings when I sing, sometimes, and beats her hands in time to music. She loves to watch me dance, particularly "Head, shoulders, knees and toes" which will, no doubt, be very good for my abs. Sometimes, when she's eating, she pulls away and looks at me; it looks like awe, though it can't really be awe. Perhaps it's love. Maybe that's what knowing where your next meal is coming from looks like. I don't know; it makes me sure and certain that it's all worth it, ten times worth it, forever worth it, if I get to keep her strong and safe and happy.

Comments

[dr-lovely.livejournal.com]

I think you are a highly intelligent, articulate person. I've been reading your journal because it is well written, and because it conveyed a lot about what being pregnant and having a baby is like, in which I was interested.

I'm really, really sorry to have upset you.

I didn't mean to downgrade your suffering - it does sound horrible, painful and degrading.

I didn't know that you had spent a long time trying to conceive - that DOES put things in a different perspective.

I also didn't know that having babies was something that you wanted so desperately. I guess I find that unusual, but I am not trying to criticize.

I think that if all parents were like you the whole world would be a lot better off.

However, I was worried, about myself, that once I have a baby, I will turn into someone to whom nothing else is important, and who really never again has any life of their own. I saw this as a possible nasty side-effect of biology, which I wasn't too keen on. I see that that has not happened to you, but that you have had a hard time.

[ailbhe]

OK.

Thanks for this. I appreciate such a reasoned response after my friends and neighbours have unanimously leapt to my defense with big pointy teef.

It's still likely that you will turn into an obsessed baby maniac for a while, at least, because hormones do that to a person - but even though she is the most important thing in my life, and has altered my life more than most babies manage, I still have time to read, do little artistic things, keep house, socialise quite a lot, swim, walk, and so on. I am the only mother I know personally who has neither returned to work nor planned to return to work.

Wanting strongly to have babies isn't unusual generally (I happen to also know a lot of people who definitely don't want babies, but that's a side-effect of my being slightly outside mainstream culture), but it is something at least some women conceal. I have, myself, been told "You're too intelligent to waste your life having children," more than once. I didn't tell anyone - not even my mother, to whom I tell almost everything - that I was trying for a baby. The only people who knew were Rob, me and our best friend. I'm 25. These days, that's too young to want to start a family, in my circles.

What happened to me is far, far below a 1% chance, which also increases your chances of not becoming an obsessive bore. But the obsessing is hella enjoyable.

[hypatia.livejournal.com]

"I didn't know that you had spent a long time trying to conceive - that DOES put things in a different perspective."

Fact is I disagree with this. Having watched people spend over a decade trying to conceive, others conceive unscheduled I don't see a clear correlation between that fact and emotional responses in the time after the birth.

"I also didn't know that having babies was something that you wanted so desperately. I guess I find that unusual, but I am not trying to criticize."

The desire is an evolutionary imperative, most of us do succumb sooner or later. 'Clock is running out' is a common feeling still but many women, particularly if educated beyond a certain point, feel constrained to conceal that fact. Many feel uncertain for many years and work circumstances general favour 'denial' over 'maybe'.

"However, I was worried, about myself, that once I have a baby, I will turn into someone to whom nothing else is important, and who really never again has any life of their own. I saw this as a possible nasty side-effect of biology, which I wasn't too keen on. I see that that has not happened to you, but that you have had a hard time."

You will turn into someone else - have no doubt about it. But you are not the same person now that you were aged 10, 20 or the person you will be aged 50, 60. You will be changed by 'big experiences' and having a child is about as big as you can get - and you can't quit, take holidays or send it back (actually the thought makes me wince :}). Having a baby will change your life and take it over and with time you will learn to reorganise your life to fit in your friends and work and interests but in slightly different ways and degrees - it depends on the baby and your circumstances adn wishes. You likely will check ten times a night that the baby is still breathing - you will adapt and cope. At times you will look at your teenagers and wonder why you went through it all :^}

Sometimes pregnancy goes 'wrong' sometimes there are problems at birth which leave long lasting effects - they don't show them in the tv adverts which make babies a fashion accessory of beautiful, wealthy parents buying VWs. But the reality with all the pain and joy it will bring is incomparably more than a fashion accessory or an 'nice to have'. Which is why even after bad labours, damage which needs repairing long after the birth, women still are willing to take the chance again.

For all the post natal problems Ailbhe has had to deal with she hasn't given up on the hope of sibling(s) for Linnea. She also has one big advantage 'self esteem' wise (even if it doesn't feel like it at the moment) - she doesn't feel diminished by making Linnea her primary job and that certainty is something to hang on to. One of the difficult things to juggle for many women is not just the practicalities but the uncertaintly felt in the face of a society which routinely reminds you that 'a mother's place is in the wrong'. That can be very undermining if you succumb to it.

Ailbhe will get through and with luck Linnea will have sibling(s). She drew a very long straw with this last labour, hopefully a good repair job will help and eventually it will become distant enough to be a bad memory which is outweighed by the plus points running around and leaving their bedrooms in a mess and asking Grandma what mummy Linnea used to get up to when she was naughty.