When I knew

Here is my Monday Mommy Moment

Mallary, Me, and Trevan

When I got pregnant for the first time, or had my first baby I didn't automatically feel like a mother. There are four distinctive moments with Trevan that I felt those first "I'm a mommy" feelings.

I had just given birth to Trevan. It was kind of long, and very traumatic at the end. Not the normal trauma, but the kind of trauma where there are too many nurses in your room to be normal. When the two nurses were pushing on my stomach trying to aid Trevan in joining in this world, (like 'heave ho' pushing, and one of the nurses was getting leverage from propping her body against one of the other nurses not pushing) it was getting pretty scary and hectic, and mentally I was having a conversation with him, "Come on! Get out! Hurry up!" I was also having a mental conversation with God, "Please help him! Please let him be okay! Please help me!" Finally I felt that release of pressure, and he was out (actually pulled out by my Doctor reaching in and getting him). I knew something was wrong when the Doctor said, "here is is, Daddy, but I have to cut the cord." I could see her worried face (splattered with blood I might add, TMI?), and she was quiet while she worked, quickly handing him over to a team of nurses. Trevan never made a sound. The sounds of nurses slapping my baby with that weird blue plastic thingy, and hearing them say, coaxingly, "Come on," was the only noise in that room. I tried not to panic. (In the birthing classes they tell you not to worry if you don't hear your baby cry right away, they say not every baby cries right away. They also said it always feels longer than it really is when you are waiting for them to cry.) So I tried not to be one of those "I'm freaking out mothers," and wait patiently to hear something come out of his mouth. I waited. I waited. I waited some more, "Is he okay? Is he going to be okay?" I couldn't resist any longer. I had barely even seen him yet, except when the doctor held him up for a split second, and all I saw was blue.

After what felt like an eternity, I heard a little whimper. A few minutes later a nurse held up a bundled baby, and said, "Here he is, but I'm sorry you can't hold him right now, we still need to work on him for a little while, but he's going to be okay." My mom and John followed Trevan to the nursery where they put him in the oxygen bubble thing, and all the nurses except the one helping the Doctor stitch me up left. The Doctor talked to me a little bit while she stitched me up, explaining Trevan had shoulder dystocia. He was a big boy weighing in at 9lbs 15 oz.

Eventually, I was left alone, just waiting, and not knowing anything. A nurse came in a while later and told me we were really lucky, because usually when they see cases of this severity, the baby usually has a broken shoulder and ends up getting life flighted to another hospital.

My mom finally came back, and told me he was going to be fine. She was getting something at the other end of the bed, and when she looked back at me she noticed the tears falling down my face, she came and gave me a hug, and told me it was going to be okay, and that she knew that Trevan was a very special spirit. My chest heaved, and I literally sobbed. I had tried to stay calm so long, and I just cried and cried. That was one of those moments when I knew I loved something or someone else greater than I loved myself, and the relief I felt knowing that he was going to be okay was overwhelming.

I knew I was a mother.

The night after we took him home from the hospital he sneezed and stringy, bloody, mucousy stuff came out, and I thought my baby was going to die. Everyone was like, I'm sure he's fine, but this was my son we were talking about, and I wasn't going to take any chances. I called my brother who's a PA, and asked him about it. I also called the nurse hot line on my insurance card, and got a very nice nurse on the line. They ask you your child's name, and their age, and when I told them three days old, my voice cracked and I started crying. She was very nice, and reassured me it is common for babies to still have some remnants from the birth process still in their system. I was so shaky and relieved.

I knew I was a mother.

Over a year later we were living in Maryland, and I was driving by myself, and looked over and there was a cow, and my very first instinct was to say, in a voice you only use with your one year old, "Look at the cow!" I laughed when I realized Trevan wasn't even in the car.

I really knew I was a mother.

Around the same time as the last incident, John and I were watching TV late one night, and we were watching a commercial, and every fiber of my being wanted to say out loud, "Look at the doggie!" I laughed and told John what I almost said. I was starting to look at the world how my one year old would see it,

and I knew I was a mother.

The other night I heard Trevan move around in his sleep and I went in to check on him, and as I pulled the covers back over him, I felt a love burst (like a starburst, but warmer and fuzzier) come over me, and I loved that I was his mother.

I think motherhood is so special, but in honor of Father's Day this coming Sunday, I am dedicating this blogging week to some pretty special fathers. Stay tuned...

Have a happy Monday!