I got pregnant a couple months after my wedding. It was planned, and by the time we found out about the news, we were fully aware about it. My 9 months pregnancy was relatively easy as well. No severe morning sickness, no health issues, I even was strong enough to work regularly and drove myself to the office every day.
One early morning about 2 am, I woke up from sleep with a little heartburn sensation in my stomach. I tried to get back to sleep but after a few minutes I was awaken again, with the sensations, still very mildly, pushed and pulled inside my stomach. After about an hour and more, I thought it probably could be my due, so I woke up my husband to be prepared.
About 4:30 am, the heartburn was getting stronger, and I realized it must be the baby. My husband called our doctor and he advised us to go the appointed hospital. He informed that since the heartburn is not really intense as yet (according to his investigation through questions, of course), the baby might be born at noon or after.
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Well, he was wrong. We left the house about 5 am, and on our way to the hospital I felt a super strong, intense, and torturing pain on my stomach. We arrived at the hospital about an hour later and waited for another 30 minutes to get the delivery room ready. By that time, I was very pale already and almost unable to walk due to the pain.
I waited for my delivery just like another moms did (probably). However things were a bit hard since my baby was trying to burst out early. I remembered it wasn't even 8 am in the morning, and our doctor hadn't arrive. The nurse advised to wait just a bit more, just a bit more, but every 1 minute felt like a year. I didn't yell or shout or cry, but I held very tight on the infusion pole attached to the bed and kept telling my husband I can’t hold it anymore.
Luckily our doctor arrived minutes later, and as expected, our daughter was born only about 10 minutes after that.
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Now here is the unpopular part. From the books I read, or the videos I saw, or the photographs I checked on social media, the birth of a new life always followed by images of happy moms (and dads for sure), tears of joy, and sweet words. They look genuinely happy and touch so much that I was sure I would feel the same way as well after seeing my flesh and blood in person for the first time.
However when the nurses put the little girl on my chest, with her tiny hands on me and eyes still shut, I felt… nothing.
Its not a pride for me to say it, but that’s the truth. I didn't feel sad, or happy, I didn't cry, but no smile either. I just stared plainly at her, rubbed her head with my palm, with blank thought in my head.
After while they took her to clean her up and do some things with my husband followed her, and I felt very, very sleepy and tired in my delivery bed.
I thought finally its done. I will recover shortly, check my girl in the baby room, get the rest that I need tonight, and heading home tomorrow.
However, few hours later I found out that my bleeding wasn't stop. The blood was flowing until my bed was wet and started dripping to the floor. My husband, in confusion, called the nurse to check what happened. Somehow according to them, there were blood clots stuck in my birth path, and they need to take it out manually, immediately, to prevent further bleeding.
I had no idea about the urgency of the actions. But what I recalled is I was not ready to have another such treatment after an exhaustion delivery just hours before. And as expected, it was torturing and really uncomfortable. Felt tired, in pain, and weak, suddenly I was really upset of the situation and started to cry.
The cry wasn't last long tough. It’s probably more like tears of frustration. I felt better just shortly after. And thought now I must be “okay”, things will be “okay”.
I laid in my bed again and the next moments had some chats with the visitors. My little brother came, and, felt comfortable already, I asked him to help me sit since I needed to go to the rest room. Had the first few steps to the room alright, suddenly I felt very dizzy and my view became white. I sat on the toilet bowl while asking him to call for another help. I didn’t even have the strength to crawl back to my bed.
Another nurse came, and with the help of my brother and my husband, carried me back to my bed. She said probably I lost quite amount of blood and advised me to just lay down until the next few hours. They did a blood test to check my condition as well. Thank God the result was not critical, so later in the evening, I was moved to regular room to take a rest.
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The next 2 days were pretty normal. I finally able to checked my girl in the evening, my relatives came to visit, and I got an adequate rest with decent hospital menu. My girl was very quiet. She was sleeping all the time. Even though I tried to breastfed her, she seemed too lazy to have one, so just took some sips and went back to sleep again.
But there’s one issue, the area of my delivery stitch was swollen and became disturbing on the those next 2 days. It was sore and I was unable to sit properly. I couldn't even went to the rest room in peace. The doctor came to check and said it would be healed in 2 weeks. I didn’t think it would be an issue so I didn’t bother too much about it.
So on Friday, 2 days after my girl was born, we finally packed up and ready to went home. My girl was wearing a pajama with bananas print, and I covered her with blanket before entering our car. I held her all the way to our home, staring at the street, still with plain view and blank thought. No sadness, no happiness, nothing was going on in my head.
