The Nothing

I think every woman needs to talk about her birth experience, especially if it was a bad one. In my case, a horrible one. Some women need to get it off their chests in order to begin to heal emotionally and mentally. I know that I have needed to for a long time. And there are women who have had worse experiences than mine. Admitting my shortcomings as a mother, my fears as a mother, my experiences so far...well, it starts to break down the anger and make you whole again. So, here begins my next few blogs about the horrors of my birth experience, starting with "The Nothing."

In my last entry, I said that Max is my current purpose for being here on this earth. At this time, in the present moment. But, it wasn't always like that. I didn't really start to feel completely addicted to my son until he was about six months old. It sounds horrible, I know, but it is true nonetheless. It took me about six months to bond with my child. I felt absolutely nothing for him the first time I saw him. Numb. No emotion. I was shocked at the amount of nothingness I felt. Wasn't I supposed to be weeping and ecstatic, seeing this little baby who had been living inside of me for nine long months? Wasn't I supposed to feel blessed and elated? What was wrong with me? I had a c-section, so I was lying on the table, my organs I believe were probably lying on a tray next to me, and my husband brought my son over to me after the nurse did whatever it is that she does to newborn babies. He was healthy and crying, straight from the womb. I saw him. I looked at his scrunched up face. And that was it. I felt nothing. I remember screaming at my husband across the operating room to take pictures. I kept screaming at him over and over again until he finally had to tell me to stop. I didn't realize until months later why I was so desperate to have him capture it. It was because I wasn't capturing any of it. I knew I would later have no memory of any of it because I felt nothing worth remembering. It was like I had attended a big parade but was too short to have a clear view, so I had to have a taller someone take pictures so I could fully enjoy the parade in pictures later. Or something like that. Anyway, that moment began a roller coaster of emotional terror and desperation that lasted a very long time. For the most part, I think I suffered in silence, although my husband would disagree, and I know that my loved ones could tell something was wrong. But I kept most of it to myself because I didn't know who to talk to or even what I would say about it if I did find someone.
I have a headache. I'll have to continue this later. To all you moms out there...it does get better!!!!!!!!