Three years ago today…

I became a mother. I could go on and on about the joy and amazing things that happened that day, but instead I think I will just repost my birth story here in a few. First I wanted to free type some thoughts I’ve had over the past year about my boys’ birth. I have gone through feelings of anger, frustration, sadness and helplessness when I remember their first few days. You see from the moment we learned it was twins we were instantly labeled high risk and told that very few twin pregnancies result in a vaginal birth so we might as well start to prepare for our cesarean now. To be really honest a vaginal birth scared me. I’d seen television. I’d watched movies. I’d heard plenty of horror stories. I knew that birth was not a fun experience and that I wanted nothing to do with it. To be honest hearing that I would ‘get’ to have a cesarean sounded pretty darn good to me! Throughout my pregnancy I was practically overjoyed when I learned that my boys remained breech and that meant I ‘had’ to have a cesarean. At my 34 week ultrasound both boys remained breech so we went ahead and scheduled it for 4 weeks later. I remember being so annoyed that it was going to be 38 weeks and 3 days instead of the 38 weeks my doc promised me! How naive I was! Anyway we went into the hospital at 38 weeks and 3 days to begin the preparation for my surgery. I remember our families giving us love and support as we prepared to walk into the operating room. I remember the first time I really felt fear about the process–they made my husband wait in the hall while I was in this big scary operating room all by myself. For some reason that I still am not aware of he wasn’t allowed to be present while I got my spinal. I remember a strong smell of burning when David walked back into the room. Then I remember him holding my hand while we waited for the doctor to bring my boys into this world. I remember their cries, and watching my husband rush over to see them. He took pictures for me to see. I remember hearing the nurses all assure me that my boys were healthy 6 pounds 7 ounces and 6 pounds 2 ounces. I was able to briefly touch one of them before my husband escorted them down the hall and into the nursery where they were given their baths and left under the heat lamps…alone. I still get so upset when I remember them wheeling my bed past the nursery and Alex was just lying there crying all alone. My mom told me he was hysterical the entire time he lay there. I hate that they were alone and so upset in those first few hours. I hated that our families all were able to really see them before I was able to. I hate that I was stuck in recovery when my babies needed me. It was over an hour before I got back to my room. The boys were still under the warmers so I couldn’t have them yet. Heaven forbid we actually let my body heat warm them up you know. Time passed and they finally brought my children into the room. I held them for a few minutes then began letting anxious grandparents, aunts and uncles hold them. I finally tried to breastfeed for the first time about 3-4 hours after their birth. They were very sleepy during this time and had little interest in nursing. This set us up for more of a battle to teach them how to nurse than I would have liked, but we did overcome it and I nursed them for 18 months (three months into my next pregnancy). I couldn’t believe how much I loved those little boys. The next morning my OB sent the nurses in to get my boys for their circumcisions. We had done some research on the topic and found some study in Africa stating that circumcision was linked to lower HIV rates and I thought that was reason enough to do it. I mean, if it could potentially save their life later why not (I’ve since learned much more on the topic but that’s another post) so they were gone for a while. When they came back Alex’s face was covered in scratches. It seemed one of his hands had broken free during the circumcision. This was upsetting but once again I figured it was one of those necessary things for a boy so I didn’t even have guilt about it…then. We eventually went home and things evolved from there. We learned that babies sleep better with parents than in cribs, wearing twin is easier than letting them cry in the stroller and breastfeeding twins wasn’t really that hard. We evolved into the parents we were meant to be. The learning curve was sharp and the first few months were crazy hard.

As we’ve grown and learned I’ve found many regrets about those early days. The biggest of these are having a scheduled cesarean and allowing the boys to be circumcised. Of course I now wish I’d birthed them myself but If we had at the very least waited for labor to start on its own at least they would have been more ready for the world. I really wish I had insisted on that. I also hate that when they were brand new and needed me the most I allowed a doctor to harm them. This just kills me.

My boys have grown into amazing people. Our parenting has certainly compensated for many of our poor choices yet I can’t help but wonder what they would have been like had we given them their very best beginnings.