There is a reason it took a few days to get to the next post. I've sat down multiple times to write this, and have come up empty handed every time. Oh it's not that I don't have things to forgive myself for, but which one? I come from a long line of Catholics, and we do guilt very well. I'm also the third of four children, I was the blame taker and the peace maker. I don't have any problem blaming myself for something, ask my therapist. (and see my previous post about worth and blame)
Then, while reading Heather's post regarding this same topic, about how she should forgive herself for being unforgiving to herself, when I laughed out loud because I was just thinking "I need to forgive myself for being unable to forgive myself". There is a reason we're friends, folks.
But really, that also seems too vague and impossible. So I had to think... what do I really need to forgive myself for? Infertility? Autism? more infertility? How well my business is or isn't doing? how good dinner was or wasn't? Oh wait... this all goes back to the same ideas behind the worth and blame post. Good lord, I'm boring and cyclic, aren't I.
There is one thing that has gnawed at me off and on for the past four years, that I truly need to forgive myself for. Ruby's birth. We had a planned home birth, that took an unexpected turn. My water broke, and for 2 days I only had contractions when I laid down to rest (yes, thats weird). I stayed close to home, walked, did acupuncture, homeopathy, did everything I could to move things along. Nothing, also very little sleep. Finally, on day 3 I drank a castor oil milk shake and well, as they say 'the shit just got real' (in more ways than one). I went from contractions every 15 minutes that didn't really bother me to WHOPPERS every 3 minutes lasting well over a minute. We were in business! I labored in the tub for 10 hours, only getting out to go to the bathroom and to have the midwife check things out once (wherein she had to pull my cervix forward, and OH HOLY HELL THAT HURT). Finally after 10 or so hours, I was complete and felt like pushing. I clearly remember my (wonderful) midwife saying "you won't have to push for long, this baby is LOW". Oh. such fateful words. Words I know she wishes she never said.
I pushed. And pushed. And pushed. I pushed in the tub. I pushed on the ball. I pushed on the toilet. I pushed on the birth stool. I pushed on the bed. I pushed holding on to the stairwell. I pushed. For thirteen hours. Yeah, read that again. I pushed. For. Thirteen. Hours.
It wasn't as hellacious as it sounds. I mean, truly the longest hour was the one between the time we decided to transfer and the time I got an epidural. I remember telling everyone that it hurt during those 13 hours, but I didn't feel PAIN and want it OVER, until I realized that I was doing all of that hard work and this baby wasn't coming out. There was no danger, no one was in peril. My blood pressure never went over 100/70 (until I got to the hospital) and Ruby's heart rate never faltered. She just got stuck, and I got tired. So tired. By the last hour, my contractions were every 10 minutes and I was so. so. so tired. That last hour, when our midwife had said "I think we need to talk about transfer", I pushed so hard, I screamed like an animal, the last thing I wanted was to transfer, because I knew that the second I walked out of my house, I was walking into a c-section.
Forgiving myself for not succeeding at home birth is not the end of this story. Sure I need to forgive myself for that one, but there is something bigger, sadder, worse. My c-section was horrible. I wasn't remotely prepared for it. I wasn't prepared for the shaking, the violating feeling of having someone inside of my body. I wasn't prepare to be able to feel someone's forearm in my vagina pushing Ruby's very stuck head back up so they could pull her out. I was NOT prepared for the panic that rushed up from my gut and straight into my heart and head and completely threw me for a loop. Within seconds of her being born I was having the worst anxiety attack of my life. I couldn't breathe, I couldn't focus, I just wanted OUT. I was screaming, begging the anesthesiologist to get me OUT OF THERE. He kept peering over the curtain, telling me that I should probably just wait a few more minutes.
Ryan brought Ruby over for me to meet her, and I couldn't. I couldn't breathe, I couldn't focus, I didn't have any idea what was going on, and I couldn't. I couldn't meet my daughter. I couldn't pull my shit together long enough to place my eyes on this child that I had yearned so desperately for. I couldn't.
Finally, the anesthesiologist asked me if I'd like him to take the edge off. YES. PLEASE. I said, and then I woke up in the recovery room. There are pictures of my holding Ruby, smiling at her, peering at her little face. But I don't remember it. Those pictures fill me with such sadness, because they happened to someone else. I don't remember the first time I held my daughter. I was so disconnected from the anxiety and drugs that the only memory I have of holding my precious child for the first time, is in a picture.
This is what I need to find forgiveness in my heart for. It's not going to happen today, but that's what therapy is for, right?
Oh honey, yes. You can and will find that place for yourself. You have gone above and beyond a million times over with her and for her, I know you'll find that place. And I have to be totally honest, I don't remember the first time I held either kid. I do remember the thousands of times after that, and what those all meant. Hugs, darlin.
Posted by: Heather J | October 16, 2010 at 08:31 PM
I can relate with this in some ways because of what I went through with Corey. I wish like hell you could get that moment back somehow. It seems like you've done everything within your power however, since that realization, to make sure you didnt miss or forget another memory or moment. I hope you can find a place within yourself to forgive you, because you deserve that peace. Love you a lot. xo
Posted by: Michelle | October 16, 2010 at 08:33 PM
yes, indeed you do need to forgive yourself. I am willing to bet that Ruby already has. You are a fantastic mother and I hold your image in my head often, when I am trying to decide how to handle my son. I think, how would Korin handle this. You are wonderful. Forgive yourself, my friend. Please.
Posted by: kris | October 16, 2010 at 08:34 PM
wow korin, what an intense, amazing post. thank you for sharing that powerful story. <3
Posted by: lyla | October 16, 2010 at 08:36 PM
I love you so much. You are so strong and your journey has been so hard. Your Ruby would never hold that against your for a moment. Now you let it go as pain and sadness, not empty heart. <3
Posted by: Jessica | October 16, 2010 at 08:56 PM
I love you, friend. As Heather said, you'll find that place.
Sorry, derail: I didn't fight to see Samantha. I laid in my hospital bed for 8.5 hours after they took her to the NICU and feigned exhaustion because I just couldn't bring myself to go down and see her like that. I've gotten over thinking I caused her premature birth, but I can't get over not wanting to meet my kid. To this day, 4.5 years later, I don't feel like I know her. I love her and would jump in front of a bus to save her, or track her to the ends of the earth if I lost her, I'm just not bonded with her like I am with the rest of the kids (even my non-bio kids). If you ever wanna talk, I'm here. You're an amazing mom, and an incredible warrior for your daughter.
Posted by: Sarah Barker | October 17, 2010 at 12:36 PM
Oh Korin. Amazing post. And yes, you will find that place. I know that feeling of those first moments being remembered only through pictures.
I have no words of wisdom, just lots of hugs and understanding.
Posted by: k | October 17, 2010 at 02:19 PM
" Now you let it go as pain and sadness, not empty heart." I like how Jessica put this. These losses and wounds carry with us for so long sometimes. I wish you healing and peace with Ruby's birth. It won't change what happened, but you deserve peace. <3
Posted by: c | October 17, 2010 at 08:27 PM
Oh Sarah, thank you for sharing your truth with me. <3 I love you.
Posted by: korin | October 17, 2010 at 08:44 PM
Wow, I knew you had a homebirth that transferred to a c-section, but I never knew what happened. I can see why you wouldn't want to share. No woman should be held accountable by anyone, especially herself, for how the birth of her child happened. You may as well feel guilty for your eye color. You didn't chose it, it just happened. Nor should you feel responsible for, after all that, being unable to face your daughter immediately. IT'S NOT YOUR FAULT. You put up with some seriously fucked up shit (sorry, nature, it had to be said) and walked/rolled(?) away from it with a beautiful daughter who came from you and is forever linked with you in a very special way. <3 <3 <3
Posted by: Laura | October 18, 2010 at 09:38 PM
I'm sosososo sorry to hear about your experience during her birth. Birth outcomes are such a crapshoot. I've heard from some women who have had textbook deliveries share how rattled and traumatized they are by their experience, which I'll never understand. Coming home to a home birth that never happened left me feeling completely worthless and weak.
Castor oil did a number on my contractions, too. I drank it, my water broke, and then out of nowhere I thought I was in transition (at 4cm). 15 hours later, we transferred, Asa moved the wrong way (errr... up) the birth canal, and I told them to get him out. I learned I had an infection in my uterus after he came out. Jeremy brought him to me, but I was too freakin exhausted to take him in. So I slept. Throw in an antenatal mood disorder, which has contributed to bonding being a huge challenge, but we have other ways of connecting.
My lesson: forgive yourself after every thought that you didn't do or aren't doing enough. For whatever reason, everything is as it should be. It may take years to understand why, though.
I heard a story of a different birth outcome, one that could have happened to me, that helped me find closure with Asa's birth - it really rattled me. Hearing that story was such a gift; it gave me a sense of reconciliation about Asa's birth that I had been yearning for for ages. I hope something akin to that happens for you. It was nothing short of magic.
Posted by: Princesspapercut | October 18, 2010 at 10:09 PM
Wow. what a story. <3 I'm so sorry that was your reality, and not the alternative story.
I am grateful that bonding wasn't affected by our birth. once I was conscious... there she was and we were one. the loss of time, moments or hours freaks me out tho and I wish i could get them back.
Oh, and I agree, coming home to a homebirth that never happened was horrible. stab me in the heart horrible.
Posted by: korin | October 18, 2010 at 10:23 PM
this is SO huge. i think i finally forgave myself for my two c-section births, but it has taken TIME.
i LOVE your writing.
ADORE IT.
Posted by: rACH | October 19, 2010 at 05:40 PM