{Guest Post} The Hardest and Best Job

It’s funny how something clicks in every pregnant woman’s mind around seven or eight months. There is no longer deathly fear of trying to fit a bowling ball through a pin hole. There is more excitement to meet her sweet baby and no longer feel 25 lbs overweight.

I remember arriving at the hospital for my daughter’s birth. I think once you enter the hospital your adrenaline kicks in and your brain shuts down. To be honest until now, 7 months later, I don’t think I’ve actually sat down and thought about how I felt during the whole experience. I remember being very scared and worried in the beginning. The baby’s heart rate kept dropping so they had me on oxygen and kept having me turn different directions every time the alarm would sound and her heart would start to drop. They also asked me if I had felt my baby move that day and I hadn’t. I was so concerned for my daughter and at that moment I would do anything in the world to have her arrive safe and healthy.

Once the doctor assured me the baby was fine and I would be having her that day, Pitocin was plugged in and my fear turned to pain. My epidural was suppose to happen at the same time as the Pitocin but the anesthesiologist got caught up in a delivery and was slow getting to me. During that excruciating hour I filled my time yelling at my husband, taking deep breaths, pushing the nurse’s button, and praying over and over to just make it through one more contraction. Finally pain turned to relief as I got my epidural just in time for the pushing to start. At this point I have no clue what I was feeling, all I could think was “don’t look stupid in front of the doctor remember to push like they taught in the birthing class.” HA! I couldn’t be more wrong. After one birthing class push the doctor said I was doing it all wrong and told me the right way.

My daughter was born very shortly after but had a hard start to life. I remember laying there totally unaware of any sound but the silence that should have been filled with crying. Finally after what felt like hours she cried and cried and cried. They put her on my chest and a moment that should have been filled with joy quickly vanished as the nurse took my daughter away worried that she wasn’t getting enough oxygen. My husband followed the baby as they took her to the nursery and for the first time I was left to think about what had just happened in the last few hours. I didn’t even know what my daughter looked liked or what it felt like to hold her. All alone in my hospital room I started crying. Finally I pulled myself together and the nurses let me go see her once my legs were un-numb.

The next morning she was transferred to the NICU of a bigger hospital, sedated, and put on a ventilator. The first time I got to actually hold my daughter she was just over a day old, had two IVs in her arms, one IV in her belly button and three other monitors stuck to her chest. I cried. Here were finally the feelings that every mother is suppose to feel right after birth when they hold their child for the first time. She was mine, all mine, and now it was my job in life to make her life the best. Ever since that day I have had the hardest and best job that I could ever have.


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