I see the event and I want to rush towards it. Hoping that just maybe I can make a difference. Hoping somehow I can ease the pain. Hoping somehow I can maybe even make it worth it, for her, for me, for us.
When I hear of anyone having a c-section I want to fly myself over to their hospital room and do something for her.
Why it makes total sense that I feel compelled to do this:
- My c-section was life altering
- I was so disappointed
- I felt so segregated
- I am endlessly working through it
- I've now witnessed the same things in others I've met
Why it doesn't make any sense that I try:
- Not everyone is like me - they might not feel any of what I felt
- The emotions don't come all at once -- they set in over time
- Its a touchy subject, and I don't want to step on toes
- I am not always in any sort of relationship with the person I've heard of having the c-section.
- And how do you really say, "Hey on the happiest day of your life, would you like to talk about the ways you are sad?"
But the reasons I should stay away just can't hold me back.
And it doesn't matter who it is.
I want to do something for her.
I feel I have to do something for her.
But I'm never even sure what.
Sometimes I think I know.
But other times I think, "You know what, I still don't know what I need to work through this, how could I help someone else?"
I usually find myself sending a note saying something like, "If you ever wanted to talk, I'm all yours."
And I honestly hope they will talk to me. I really, truly do.
I think we might round each other out.
I think I might be able to give a pinch of help.
And I know we will enjoy solace in mutual understanding.
Usually,
they don't talk.
I usually never hear back.
And that's ok.
Like I said, there are reasons why it wouldn't make any sense for them to.
But it starts to make me wonder,
Should I have offered?
I hope I didn't offend them.
I hope they don't think I'm judging them,
or saying "if they had only... it wouldn't have happened."
From the depths of my soul, I hope no one ever gets that impression from me.
I would never want anyone to feel that way.
The voices in my head were loud enough, after my c-section -- all the things I did wrong, and all the ways I could have done better, and all the "what ifs" that might have gotten me out of it.
I never want to add a single sound to that mess for anyone else.
I just want to do that human thing, where you say, "It was hard." And I look in your eyes, and we both know - so we feel relived.
And since it is as much for me as it is for them,
I start to wondering if I am being selfish by offering to listen, to talk, to heal.
Maybe no one else wants this, and I am just picking at their scar, and all they want is for me to go away.
I wish it weren't such a hard topic.
I wish there were less volatile stances on birth.
Maybe then it would be easier to come out into the open, instead of work so hard in the dark, to heal.
Why is it that no matter how we give birth, we feel slightly defensive? And just a bit put off by some others' stories?
I was just in the midst of women and was asked about my home birth, and as I shared only the briefest bit, I could feel the group grow defensive of their stories, as if I had challenged them with mine. I could tell they were trying not to. But yet at the same time they felt they had to.
I hate when that happens. I make me want to cry.
I claim no grounds on which to stand and judge.
My stories do nothing to yours.
Oh ladies, ladies, I want to hug you all and say, "Well done. I am so proud of you. To birth a baby is to sacrifice yourself. And that is amazing! I am amazed by every story, every effort, every postpartum journey. You are amazing. You have completed a miracle."
But I know that just-after my c-section,
I could not marvel at them all,
because my heart hurt so bad.
I had to look away
so that I could breathe.
And if anyone else ever feels that way,
I want to be there for them.
I just wish I knew the right way to do it.
0 comments:
Post a Comment