11 years ago today, my son was born and I almost died.
It was an early planned C-section. I suffered from pre-eclampsia, high blood pressure (200’s over 150+’s resting) and probably a whole lot more. I was 220+ lbs overweight and only 8 months along. After the C-section, they couldn’t stabilize my blood pressure. They wouldn’t let me hold him or have him close for 5 hours. Maybe I gave up asking – I’m not sure. Then, my vision started going out – like an old cathode-ray tv screen…down to the little dot. But the dark wasn’t scary, it was warm and comfy and things got quieter and quieter. There was so much peace. Then, as if someone pulled a box off my head, the lights were blaring, the sounds were deafening, alarms and people all around and I was sitting up. And I thought…. Aaaaaaand we’re back.
Medical staff doesn’t listen all the time. This happens every time you give me morphine or a morphine derivative injected into me. Every time I go under anesthesia, It’s a real fight for those on this side to wake me up again. Maybe this is why I’m reluctant to go to the doctor, as usually surgery is the prescribed “cure”.
I felt much better, all the stimulants they pumped to flush out the morphine I guess. We move to a room, and I finally got to hold my son. I knew in that first moment he was different. I’m not sure why. It was something in his eyes. The way he looked at me, mouth in a questioning “who?” He didn’t cry. He hadn’t cried since his first breath. And he didn’t seem to be uncomfortable – ever. He just looked at you with eyes full of love and wonder.
By the time he and I got to meet each other, it was late in the day, and I was quite tired.
He’s never been one for parties or people for that matter so we’ve never made too much of a to-do about his birthday. Usually I take him out to eat somewhere he likes.
I love my boy. I am the fierce bear mama. I’ve been wounded, but I’m not down. It’s not my first set of scars and it’s not my last. But for today, we’re being happy.