On a serious note.

Earlier today, I visited one of my old fav blogs from Austin – I was procrastinating. LiveMom is a great blog, and the daily article looked interesting: My VBAC, or, My Name is Jennifer and I had an Orgasm During Labor (can you blame me for being curious?!). Anyway, Jennifer had the fairytale perfect VBAC and quite the entertaining story to go along with it. I admit that I giggled reading and thought, wow, this woman has some balls telling us about her labor induced orgasm even though she had not yet told her husband. Though, after reading the article I started crying. Not because I didn’t have an orgasm during labor or a VBAC; many of you know that I was quite happy with my planned c-sections. But, I think the seriousness of what happened to me hit me like a ton of bricks. And, so did the realization that I am still coming to grips with it.

My eff-ing uterus ruptured. My baby nearly died and I cheated death twice.

I’m sad.
I’m mad.
And, I don’t think I am ok with it yet.
I worry that I may never be the same again.
 
...but I'll come back to that later.

I gather the point of Jennifer’s story was to empower women to make their own choices when it comes to birth plans. To speak up, know what is right for you, and advocate on your own behalf to minimize medical intervention, after all, women have been having children for thousands (millions?) of years. I think this is a valid point. Our society often treats pregnancy as a disease. This is alarming. And something we women, as the mother-ships, can do something about. However, a VBAC especially soon after a c-section, is something that needs to be carefully considered and risks understood. We are not talking about orgasms and blushing. A ruptured uterus is some serious stuff.

I could go into the my story, but if you know me, you know the story, so I’ll spare the details.

Short and sweet: Baby 1, breech, c-section. Pregnant again, oh crap, how did that happen (right?!). Baby 2, random ruptured uterus, c-section, we lived - hurray!, oh wait, septic shock, I’m sick - almost dead - I lived, hurray!, I’m ok, I guess.

So… back to the bomb I dropped, you know, the “I’m still coming to grips part”. I almost let myself get side tracked into writing about my birth story and listening to your gut, blah blah blah, but I am challenging myself to finally talk about the trauma of everything following Mahala’s birth and how it has really screwed with me in the head.

Most of the time, I make light of situations with those around me to pretend everything is fine. I’m guessing this is probably not all that uncommon of a coping mechanism. But, for quite some time now, what happened following the birth of Mahala has been weighing on me. I don’t talk about it. I don’t really know if I should.  Or, if I really want to. And, I don’t know what I would really say if I did talk about it. Moreover, I kind of feel I should be over it by now, I mean, everyone is ok and healthy so what is there to still talk about? Yet, I feel like there is some epiphany I am waiting for so I can move on. It’s not happening. So, here it is, I’m engineering my own epiphany. Go BIG, or go home (and I live in a hotel), so I’m throwing it out on the table...

  

It sucked that I got sick. I’m pissed that it happened.
It scares me that Mahala almost died.
I feel a sense of responsibility for the risk Mahala was put in.
(I know) it wasn’t my fault, but I’m mommy and my job is protect.
It scares me that I almost died. I feel selfish for nearly dying.
I nearly abandoned my family.
The thoughts of another woman helping Kasja pick out her wedding dress haunt me.
I’m kinda mad at myself for not listening to my gut.
It is my job to protect my family and I failed.
I know I am only human and some things are not up to me…
... but that is scary to accept.
I wonder if I learned the lessons I was supposed to learn.
I worry about having to repeat the lessons.
It wasn’t my fault. I think.
I feel lucky and blessed for our outcome.
... but guilty that I have any feelings besides gratefulness.


Don’t get me wrong, emotionally, I’m in a pretty good place (seriously, don’t laugh, I’M FOR REAL!). I just know that there are some thoughts rolling around in my head that I should deal with, and in more recent years, I tend to be on the dramatic side. Anyway. There they are. Staring me in the face. On “paper.” Phew!

  

I feel like I just kinda puked on that paper, deep, but you know, it feels kinda good.  Post.