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3/30/2009 A MOTHER'S LOVENo matter what anyone tells you to prepare you for the love you'll have for your child... no matter how huge they make it sound or what they compare it to... and everyone who is already a mother will spend time telling you what to expect while you're expecting... no one can ever come close to the reality.
Actually, I almost felt deficient at first. I was supposed to have this huge feeling wash over me... I was supposed to be overwhelmed by my unrecognizable emotions as soon as I saw my son. What no one tells you is that BECAUSE your emotions are so HUGE... so overwhelming... so unrecognizable because you've never felt anything close to it before... you DON'T know you're having them until much later. Let me explain.
While the doctors were opening up my abdomen and taping it to a bar, reaching inside me to wrench my baby out of me, and identifying my baby as "yup, its a boy", I was holding my breath... holding my emotions... holding... holding... holding. My only conscious thougts were "GOD... make him alright... please make him alright" and "Why isn't he crying? Why can't I hear him cry?" Unconsciously I was interested in the fact that I could feel everything they were doing to me, but had no pain (cool!)... I was waiting with bated breath to hear my son cry... I was vaguely aware of B filming the procedure, standing somewhere to my left... I was wondering why my arms had to be taped down out to my sides on these boards, like I was on a cross or something... I was listening intently to hear if a nurse or doctor said something that wasn't quite... right.
The intensity of the relief I felt when I heard Dillon's first cry (sounded a little weak... is he ok? I thought) and then his huge and very annoyed second cry (relief flooded me... OH GOOD... his lungs are fine... he's ok) was followed by such a huge surge of motherly protection (Doc, is he ok? Everything is good, right?) and concern (B - don't you leave our baby... you stay with him B!)and love - overwhelming, complete, all consuming love - that I didn't identify it as such until a couple of weeks later, upon reflection. All I could do was laugh and cry at the same time (caught on tape).
From that moment on my every waking, and dreaming thought was about my son. I was impatient for the doctor to sew me back up because I had to get to my son and feed him... Dillon must be hungry after the ordeal of birth... he must be missing me - if he doesn't hear his mama he's going to think I abandoned him. I consciously had stroked his cheek with my finger as I spoke calmly to him after he'd been wrapped up and was being held by my face so I could see him before they took him to the nursery... I told him mama would be right there... I love you baby... do you know it's your mama?... do you recognize my voice now you're out?... be a good boy and don't worry because daddy will stay with you until I can be there... I love you Dillon... I promise I'll be right there... then they took him away... I called out to B - Don't you leave him! Make sure you can see him at all times!! Stay WITH the baby... do you hear me B? I was terrified something would happen to him now... how could I protect him now he was out of me?
When I was told he was in ICU because his sugars had bottomed out I was frantic to get to him. I'd seen movies and heard stories and read all kinds of examples of how babies needed their mommies when they were ill... they healed better when mama was there. I couldn't fathom NOT being by my son's side. The nurses had me hooked up to a morphine drip for my pain and they said I had to stay in recovery for 2 hours, or until I could move my extremities, then would be moved to my room where I had to wait for them to bring me my baby. UH... NO. Ten minutes after I was put in recovery I was moving my toes (wow, you're a quick recoverer)... yeah... I need to see my baby. They made me wait 1 hour instead of 2 then moved me to my room.
I kept insisting my son needed to breast feed... I didn't want them to bottle feed him... bring me to my son. The nurses said I had to wait until the afternoon and we'd see if I could get up or not based on how much pain I was in and how much I needed of the morphine drip. I said take it out now... I don't need it... I need to see my son. They smiled and said they'd be back later to check on me. I never pushed the button for the first dose of morphine. I didn't feel physical pain at all... I was only concerned about my son... everyone who came by to check on me was amazed I was still awake and hadn't used any pain medication... TAKE ME TO MY SON... he needs me.
Finally, Dillon was born at 9:13 am, and finally, at 3 pm, the nurse came in with a wheel chair and started to tell me if I could get up she'd take me to Dillon... by the time she finished saying it I was on my feet and turning around to back into the wheel chair. I tapped my toes on the foot rests... I strained to hear my baby's cries... my husband B was by my side, walking with us to the ICU. They opened the big hallway doors and I said to B... that's Dillon... he's crying. He said I couldn't know that and I told him I KNEW my child. We sanitized our hands and as they wheeled me closer I could hear my baby crying... it WAS him... B was impressed. I got to my baby's side and reached my hand toward him... I began stroking his cheek and talking softly to him and he quieted down.
For the next 3 days I went down to ICU every 3 hours, on the hour, to feed and comfort my baby. The nurses wanted me to rest... I wanted to be with my baby. I wasn't tired. The imensity of the love I have for my Dillon kept me sane, awake, and consumed with making my baby well. Once his sugars were regulated we were allowed to take him home... and it was only delayed 1 day... everyone was surprised... not me... I knew he was going home with me. Either that or they'd better set something up for me to stay there... I wouldn't leave until Dillon went with me.
I know now that my motivation at the time was the all consuming love I feel for my Dillon... then I just DID... I did what I had to do for my child... and I felt like I was missing that love... why didn't I feel it? Why didn't I recognize the all consuming love feeling? I know now that I was looking for a feeling I could recognize as love... something I was familiar with. The love of a mother for her child is not anything she's ever felt before her baby's birth.
That love that consumed me during my second marriage... where I lived and breathed my husband... where I physically hurt if we were separated for any time at all... the love that had me unable to form a sentence without him in it... the love that made me do everything in life not just for me, but for US... the love that didn't let me breathe without making sure he was breathing first... that was nothing like the love I have for my son. That love pales in comparison... can it even be called "love" now that I know the real raw emotion?
Since his birth, Dillon has been all there is. Yes, I'm married, and I love my husband B, and I'm concerned for his comfort and his happiness... but there is no contest between him and Dillon... if my child needs, he gets... if he's curious, I will find a way to satisfy his curiosity... if he's hungry, he gets fed first, no matter who else is hungry... if he's bored, something gets done to entertain him, or tempt his mind... to teach him something. I don't indulge his every whim because I don't want him to be spoiled rotten... spoiled, yes, but rotten -no. If he throws a tantrum, he's ignored... no attention for bad behavior. If he shows a healthy interest in something, it's encouraged.
I used to say I'd die for any member of my family... that's nothing compared to what I'd go through for my son. I'd endure torture for my son. I put aside my own likes, dislikes, wants and desires... all that matters is that Dillon feel loved and safe and secure... and that he be surrounded by love and peace.
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