Cesarean Heartache

My sister-in-law just gave birth to a beautiful, seven pound baby boy last week.  He is the newest joy to all of our lives, even my six year old son who is thrilled with his new cousin.  As I sat with Mary (names have been changed) during her labor and heard her fears and uncertainties, and then again a few days later, after the circumstances of her c-section hit her full force, I was brought back to my own induced 18 hour labor and eventual c-section.  My physical recovery from that major abdominal surgery was far easier than the emotional recovery.  I was plagued with “what ifs” and regrets–doubts about the legitimacy of having needed a c-section in the first place.  In some ways, I felt like my first hours of being a parent were taken from me, as I was unable to breastfeed for my son’s first feeding, too drugged to remember any but a second-long snapshot of my son’s moment of delivery, and too immobile to tend to his simplest of needs for days to come.  Sitting with Mary this weekend, seeing her tears, hearing deep wounds (far deeper than her incision) about not being “there” for her child as she had hoped, broke my heart.  I could relate.

Please understand that this is not an attack on the medical community nor cesarean sections as a whole.  I believe that there are numerous labors and deliveries that require such drastic medical intervention and thank God that He has placed those skills in talented and caring individuals to help in that time.  I am also fully aware that doctors today, because of our insanely litigious society, have to be very sensitive to anything at all that might (no matter how slim the chance) go wrong.

This is more of a blog about the emotions of a mom. . .the feelings of helplessness after a cesarean that many moms experience and the regrets that plague us, even when we did all that we could do.  This is also about what I see as a hidden epidemic, if you will.  Some of society seem to present cesarean sections as no big deal. . .as just another birthing option. . .the easier choice because you can bypass all the labor, schedule it on your time-table, and be more in control of your labor and delivery.  I resent this inaccurate presentation.  Listening to Mary, reliving my own experience, and reading others accounts makes me realize just how deep these wounds can go, and they are anything but easy to mend.

So I wonder, for those of you who had c-sections with the birth of your first child (or subsequent children), what was your experience and did you (or do you still) experience any of these same emotions?   If these statistics are true (see International Cesarean Awareness Network here), that “32.9% of births result in major abdominal surgery” and that 2009, when this study was conducted, was the “13th consecutive year to show increase,” there are plenty of us out there that have gone through this surgery.  How many of you have felt as Mary and I did, and still do?  Let’s have the discussion. . .

Motherhood IV: Hurry Up!

Yesterday, my son and I were walking home from the park.  It was a beautiful morning–no more than 80 degrees–with a clear blue sky and a light breeze.  I had nothing life-threatening to get to when I got home. . .nothing more than laundry, a little bit of house cleaning, and a lunch to throw in the oven for the two of us.  I was having such a special time with a precious boy, and yet I still used the words “Hurry up” when he paused to lean down and study the broken, uneven sidewalk.

I hate those words.  I cringe every time I say them because I know that the cliche is true: “These years pass so quickly, and then your children are grown.”  So, why do we say them?  If I look at the times when I have said “Hurry up,” it is usually when my son is exploring the world and taking it in, and why do I want him to hurry through that?  For myself, I’ve been shown that this is purely my selfish desires and personal agenda rearing it’s ugly head through what could (and should) be a beautiful moment to remember and cherish.

Now, I know how kids can dally.  They can take an hour to do something that takes us adults 5 minutes.  They are not the most skilled at time management, nor are they the most productive.  Life, for them, is certainly not about a checklist of things to be completed.  But you know what I’ve realized?

They are happier than 99% of the adults out there.

Maybe they are on to something. 

Maybe life isn’t about rushing about and hurrying through.  Maybe it isn’t about productivity and finding more time and checklists.  Maybe it’s about love, joy, peace, and the Author of all of those:  God.  Maybe it’s about slowing down and studying the shape of the sidewalk or the way a roly-poly rolls.  Maybe if I wasn’t often looking for ways to “Hurry up,” then when I heard my son asking, “What does God do in heaven?”, I would be able to answer him more thoroughly (and have the potential for a life-changing conversation with him).  After all, aren’t those the sort of things that life is all about?

My challenge to myself is to allow God to shut my mouth and quiet my mind when I’m tempted to say, “Hurry up.”  I have a feeling that my Heavenly Father, the One who loves me and wants me to see all the beautiful and wonderful things He has in store for me and my family, is just trying to get me to slow down enough to see them.  When it comes right down to it, I can think of very little involving my son that I actually want to hurry through.