“Being able to survive it doesn’t mean it was ever okay”
I’m not sure I will ever be able to put into words what I
really went through and really felt with my attempted HBAC. I have so many
mixed emotions when it comes to the overall experience. I will forever be
eternally grateful that my mom was able to be here with me. Sharing those
moments with her and with Erik were incredible. It was like the three of us
were in our bubble. It was exactly the way I wanted it to be. They comforted me
exactly when and how I needed them to. I knew that when Erik needed a reprieve
then mom was there and when mom needed to step away Erik was there. But
overall, they both did their best to stay with me as much as possible (unless
of course the twins needed something). The twins were angels too. They wanted
to help me but didn’t quite know how. Every now and then their sweet hands
would appear on me and totally melt my heart. I wanted to bad to love on them
and tell them how special they were to me. I wanted them to understand that
even though the baby was coming and mommy was in a lot of pain right now, it
would be worth it in the end. And I wanted to reassure them how much they meant
to me. They made me a mommy first and that is irreplaceable. I couldn’t say
anything to them. But there is so much truth in the 6th sense our
kids have. Deep down, they just knew. As I went through post partum (and
continue to go through it) there are days that I just want to be angry. I have
cried more than I did after birthing the twins and more than I can ever
remember crying in a long time. I’ve questioned God more than I’d like to
admit. I know there is a lesson in all of this but I truly haven’t grasped it
yet. I know that God gave me more than I could handle so I would look to Him
and rely on Him and trust in Him. I needed to truly surrender everything to
Jesus. I think I did to the best of my ability but there is always room for
improvement. I am grateful to God that He got my boy here safe and healthy even
if it wasn’t the way I wanted. My heart reminds me constantly that even on the
worst days I am still lucky and still blessed. But my selfish spirit is still
so hurt and frustrated. I spent so much time, money and energy to create this
experience for my entire family and did what I truly felt was in the best
interest of Ezekiel and myself. And I still didn’t get the experience and
outcome I so desired. I survived it and so did Ezekiel. I’m grateful. But I’m
not sure it will ever truly be okay. I’m still angry. I’m still so
disappointed. I still feel like I failed no matter what anyone says. I don’t
feel like the warrior mom everyone says I am. I feel like I got close enough to
see and smell but wasn’t allowed to touch. It just sucks. And unfortunately
human nature compares. And I’m not going to pretend that I don’t hear other
birth stories and see babies be born so simply, quickly, naturally and I just
want to cry all over again. I want to scream. My prayer all along was “if this
is not meant to be, please make it clear. Please close a door.” And He never
did. It’s so frustrating to me knowing that God knew I’d end up on the
operating table. Why couldn’t He just close the door from the get go and let me
just mentally prepare for the operation?!? I’ve been asked multiple times by
multiple people how I feel about all of it. I’ve been told multiple times by
multiple people that I still succeeded and my baby and I are both healthy and
that’s all that matters. I don’t know how I feel… but I do know, that’s not all
that matters. A good friend of mine said to me “A healthy baby and healthy mama are
important… the MOST important. But healthy doesn’t stop at alive and physically
well. You’re emotionally exhausted and hurt. It’s important for you to be
healthy in EVERY aspect.” I know I am still struggling with the birth
experience emotionally, more than I want to admit. And Ezekiel has had a rough
two months so far, so it hasn’t helped me to heal. In fact, it makes me wonder
if the trauma of 29 hours of labor hurt him more than I realize, more than it
hurt me. This has been the toughest journey so far in my life. I am grateful
though that I did labor and prove my body can labor and dilate. I just
desperately wish we could’ve seen it through to the end. It’s like building a
puzzle and missing the key piece. I so desperately wanted the twins to become
big brothers in the comfort of their home and enjoy those first precious
moments as a family in an intimate way that only a home birth can offer. I
worked so hard for the birth I wanted and I lost that. Leaving the boys behind
when heading to the hospital was one of the hardest things I’ve done in my life.
It was equally as hard for me to leave my mom. I always grew up wanting to be a
mom and wanting my mom to be there when my baby(ies) were born. While she was
in town and saw the twins and Ezekiel all shortly after their births, she
wasn’t in the room for those first raw emotions with any of them and it’s a
huge thing that kills me. I feel like it’s a grandma right that I have yet to
be able to bless her with. I know a lot of my frustration and disappointment is
self-inflicted. I know I created too many expectations. A lot of my posts or in
person conversations seem to spin in circles. But that is truly how I think and
feel. I’m trusting God to provide the emotional healing with time, just as He
provides the physical. Some days it doesn’t phase me at all and some days I want
to cry all day and I want to be really angry about it. Most days, I’m trying to
love my new baby and my big boys and just be grateful, in the midst of the
pain, exhaustion and chaos for the blessings that God bestows that I definitely
do not deserve.
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