Birth Story: D.J. Mama Part THREE

We stayed in our little bubble of bliss for over an hour. Pure magic. Then the nurses came in. They removed my epidural got me situated in a wheelchair and transferred my little family to our postpartum room. The nurse and Damien helped me into bed, she gave me my pain medication and said sh would be back to teach me how to go to the bathroom…teach me? I couldn’t comprehend what she meant so i just continued to love on my baby. An hour later she returned. She had me get up and helped me to the bathroom. HOLY F*CK, the pain was starting to settle in. She gave me mesh underwear and a pad bigger than my head. She brought out all types of witch hazel wipes, numbing sprays, peri bottles. My mind was in shambles, what was i going to need all this for? and then i sat down to pee. OUCH. Now don’t get me wrong, I knew postpartum wasn’t gonna be easy but I was NOT ready. My body hurt, using the bathroom hurt, I was exhausted…but I was also so happy. After making my first padsicle, and applying the ice pack my nurse gave me to my vagina, I relaxed in bed with my baby, once again in awe. We had a celebratory steak dinner provided by the hospital and soaked in the start of our new lives…

and then he cried, and the nurse came in, and he cluster fed. It was intense to say the least. People in and out of your room every 30 mins. The pain of recovery. The anxiety that washed over me when I heard him cry. I was naive. I was unprepared. I was overwhelmed. The nurse came in at one point at it really hit me, “how many pee diapers has he had?”, Damien and I just looked at each other… OMG we hadn’t even changed his diaper yet. I forgot I even had to do that. I wanted to cry. She must have seen the guilt written all over my face and assured me it was normal. That we were doing a great job and in that instance my husband transitioned flawlessly into his role of dad. He changed his diaper. He burped him after he was fed. He swaddled him. He helped me get him back to sleep. He was incredible.

The next day rolled around and so did my sleep deprivation. I was beyond tired and in so much pain. Again, our room was busy with nurses, pediatricians, doctors, birth certificate officials. So many people and so much paperwork. Due to COVID we had the option of leaving the hospital after the minimum 24 hour stay. We opted to take it. I wanted OUT. If I was gonna be uncomfortable and exhausted I at least wanted to do it in my own bed. My nipples were cracked and bleeding from cluster feeding. My vagina hurt from my ginormous baby. I just wanted to go home.

The nurse showed up with our discharge papers and I was elated. I was also terrified. I didn’t feel prepared. It started to sink in that we were really about to be cut loose with this perfect, precious, sweet little baby and it was completely on us to take care of him. I knew we would be okay but I couldn’t shake the feeling of being an imposter. I guess I had always pictured myself feeling like an “adult” when I started a family. That I would magically somehow feel prepared for this moment- I didn’t. I still felt like me and it made me feel like an imposter. When the nurse finally sat D.J. on my lap after helping me into the wheelchair to leave, I felt nervous. She wheeled us down to the lobby where Damien was waiting in “stork parking” with the car, ready to take our son home. As she wheeled us out, I kept waiting for someone to yell “STOP THAT WOMAN!” – I felt like I was kidnapping my own kid, like I shouldn’t be allowed to leave with this perfect little being, like someone had made a mistake and was gonna come take him from me but that moment never came…

We met dad at the car. We loaded up as a little family and our lives began.

No longer two but three. Once again it washed over me – bliss.