Her brothers always watch over her.
I had all kinds of ideas of what it would be like to hold my baby girl and know that I was bringing her home. I would be so filled with love and joy that nothing else could ever occupy my mind. I soon realized how wrong I would be, though. The night before discharge, I had a complete breakdown. I was in a tremendous amount of pain from the c section, which I chalked up to trying to do too much too fast. I saw my husband in my hospital room, holding Jordan, rocking her to sleep. I lost it. I couldn't hold my baby, rock her, burp her, change her... all because of how much pain I was in. All I could do was feed her, and her daddy did the rest. I felt like such a failure as a mother. My baby would cry, and I couldn't even reach out and pick her up from her bassinet. I realized I had no idea what soothed my baby when she cried, because I could barely sit up in my own bed without assistance. I started thinking horrible things, like how my baby deserved so much better - she deserved a better mother.
So I bawled my eyes out, just in time for my nurse to walk in with my pain medication. She stopped short in her tracks and asked me what was wrong. I just shook my head and cried. After a few minutes, I was finally able to tell her I was in pain and that I couldn't take care of my baby. She sat down on my bed and explained to me how lucky I was that I had my husband there, and that I had just had major surgery and no one expected me to be able to do all of these things that I was crying about.
I cried harder. I couldn't even blow my damn nose because it hurt my abdomen so much, so I was a wreck.
So my nurse said she wanted to share something with me that she didn't usually tell people - the other nurses weren't even aware. She told me that she had three sons at home, but her first baby - a boy, was stillborn over 20 years ago. She shared this with me because she knew about Conner and Benjamin, and she suspected that my pain wasn't just physical - it was psychosomatic. She knew it must have been hard for me to be in the same hospital I had my twins in and subsequently lost them in. We talked, in the middle of the night, with just the dim light on over my bed. My husband stood to my right, holding our baby girl, trying not to cry. We talked about how people don't understand how our babies still count and how much we still hurt over our loss, despite the babies we had after our sons. And just like that, this nurse was my friend. I kept wondering how I was supposed to take care of Jordan when I couldn't take care of Conner or Benjamin. I told her how another nurse remarked that she wanted us to have our "happy ending" and to have "closure" and how offended I was that she thought that Jordan being here meant that her brothers never existed. She mentioned that she was glad I told her that; she would have to bring it up at a meeting so that the labor and delivery nurses could go through more training on how to be sensitive about the subject of loss. Through my tears, my pain subsided. She must have been right. Just talking about the boys helped ease my physical pain.
Communication. See what it can do? We both cried there as we shared our stories and our frustrations over being so misunderstood. We both were so sad that we felt that we couldn't talk about our sons openly to other people because we were afraid of what they might say or think. But we talked to each other, and it was like therapy. And through sharing what I went through the day Jordan was born, maybe nurses will be more sensitive and think twice before saying such hurtful things to mothers who have experienced loss. I have to urge all mothers who have had a loss to open up about it. It is such a stigma to have lost a child. It is taboo. No one wants to address it, so no one knows how to react to it. It's a vicious cycle that only we can break.
She said something (among many things) that will stick with me: Jordan is my priority now, but I will always love and remember my sons. She is right. I can't take care of my boys. I have to trust that God is doing that for me. I can do things in remembrance of them and in honor of them, but Jordan has to be my priority now. It doesn't mean that I love her more than my boys or that I won't always think of my boys. But I have to take care of my baby girl right now, and part of that means that I have to try to find a way to accept that I cannot take care of Conner and Benjamin. I don't know if I will ever truly accept that, and I will struggle my whole life trusting that they are okay and safe in the arms of Jesus.
I'll never forget my nurse and how after our talk, she took Jordan up to the nursery for her carseat test. She picked up my little girl, gave her a kiss on the head, and told her she was going to go to the nursery with Auntie for a little bit. She gave me the biggest hug and kissed my head and we cried together. On her way out, she said she hoped that our boys were all playing together up in heaven. I said I think they are. We both agreed that the thought of them together made us feel better. She will always be my favorite nurse and I will always think of her when I think of Jordan's birth story.
I do want to add a little bit of happy in here, too. I feel better now. At Jordan's last weight check (at 11 days old), she was 5 pounds, 12 ounces - 9 ounces more than her birth weight! She is growing quickly - she has already outgrown her preemie diapers and we are now using newborn diapers on her. Also, her newborn outfits that she used to be swimming in (see below for her "take home" outfit) are beginning to fit her... I can't believe it. I mean, c'mon. She's two weeks old. How is she outgrowing anything??? But here we are, holding our baby who is noticeably heavier and watching her literally grow everyday. My doctors weren't kidding - they said once she was born, she would catch up in size quickly. I feel accomplished, like I am finally doing something right - my baby is thriving, happy, and healthy.
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"Mommy, I look ridiculous"
I am recovering quickly as well. The nurses at the hospital told me that they knew right away who my OBs were just by looking at my c section incision - they say that my two doctors do the best c sections in the entire hospital. My incision is paper thin. I barely notice it. I stopped taking pain meds at 6 days, only needing them at night because I'm sore from moving all day. I gained a total of 23 pounds in this pregnancy, and the day we were discharged I had already lost 11 pounds. As of yesterday (day 13), I had lost an additional 4 pounds. Eight more pounds to go! And once the swelling subsides completely from the surgery, I should see a bigger difference. My hips are wider now tough, and I'm still in my beloved yoga pants. Seems like a weird way to end this blog post but Jordan is fussing and mommy needs to pick up her baby :)
