still healing
I never knew that birth could be anything other than beautiful. Human life comes into the world, and that is beautiful. But, there is more to it than that. The truth is that birth isn't easy, and nothing can prepare you for it. Each experience is completely unique and has immense affect on the people who experience it. Some are perfectly peaceful like a melody that tingles your soul and eases your heart, and some experiences just aren’t so. Some are tough and traumatic. Each is a unique fingerprint unlike any other. I get that now, I wish I did before Oscar’s came earth side.
Oscar’s birth. Photo of us by Agnes from Northern Wildflower
It’s taken me eight months to feel the urge to finish writing Oscar’s story. This evening, on International Women’s Day, I let myself fall into the world of Instagram. This day holds a heavier weight as I think about the role of women, especially in relationship to motherhood.
Mothers. Where would the world be without us? How could we live in a world where women are facing push back on being equal to men, where without us there would be no more of us? What we go through to bring a human into this world is beyond powerful. We are warriors. Yet, every day we have to prove our worth and it stops me dead in my tracks that this is the world we live in, but I will always stay strong in being one among many trying to change our world for the better.
Being a mother to a boy has given me hope that by teaching my son about the world, specifically about women & their roles, their strength; that there will be one more wonderful little humanist & feminist out there. I think about this beautiful boy of mine all the time and the love I feel for him almost hurts my heart. I never could have imagined this feeling. There is so much I never imagined when it comes to him. He’s been teaching me lessons since before he was even born….. born, birth… his birth…. see how I deflect already….. I’m getting back on track here….
In my spiralling into the world of Instagram suddenly there laid a video before me called “Oscar | A birth story” and it took me a second to realize that it wasn't my story and yes, there are many Oscars. So I paused my Instagram spiralling and clicked play on this total strangers birth story of her son Oscar.
Since having Oscar, I have shared my story a few times in person with others, but I try to keep it from destroying me when I share it. I try not to be emotional when going through it. It’s hard to go there. And, the more time passes, the more the pain hurts when I go back there understanding myself more and more.
Since sharing things about it here and there, others have shared their children’s birth stories and my heart breaks hearing what some of these mamas have gone through. With each story my heart twists and turns, but with each ending being a happy one with babes in moms arms (sometimes not after the birth, but days… or months later), I feel happiness knowing that despite the trauma some of us have gone through, we have risen above and we come out alive and are taking the world by storm, with the proud new name of “mama” on our hearts.
As much as our story isn't “the most traumatic” in comparison to some, it was hard for me and has left me working on my wounds. Sometimes I feel embarrassed that I haven't healed by now especially when I hear stories of others that are ten folds what I went through. But then, I remember we all have our own unique experiences, and each of us are allowed to feel the pain we do, if that is what we have felt. Our feelings are valid and we shouldn’t compare.
Back to the video on Instagram. I watched a strangers birth story and slowly the minutes passed with my heart slowly breaking, knowing we were getting to a part that rips at me each time. Each and every time. As that moment came across my screen, I sat in my rocking chair, baby monitor to my left, cold milk production tea on the coffee table in front of me, snoring puppy by my feet and cellphone in my hand, and broke down in tears. It happens all the time and it doesn't get easier. The part that gets me each and every time is the moment the baby is born. It’s the moment the little baby enters the world and the mother is flooded with emotions. Here’s part of our story; I didn’t get that moment. After 30 + hours of natural labour I didn’t know my son was born the moment it happened, or the few following moments. Everything I wanted to have happen for our birth was taken away from me, and then the one moment I thought I would surely experience, I didn’t experience it. I didn’t know my son was born. No, I wasn't put under. I was awake. I was obviously there, but I wasn’t part of my own sons birth other than being the vessel that was cut open in bringing him into our world, then stapled back together. All the reasons I didn’t want to end up in the hospital proved to be exactly what I thought it would be, but a million time worse. And, eight months later, I’m still healing, but I’ll get there. I get a little bit better every day. But, watching & hearing the stories of other mamas tends to break my heart, even in all it’s beauty.
