One of the biggest lessons I’ve learned through this process is to expect the unexpected.
When I was pregnant with Princess, I devoured every book and article about what to expect as a first-time parent. All the newborn basics — feeding, burping, diaper changes, bathing, sleeping, soothing, bonding, tummy time… you name it. This story of “what to expect” has been told since the beginning of time and lived a billion times over.
We saw this firsthand when my sister’s daughter was born two months before Princess. While their journey had its own challenges, it seemed to follow the “normal” path. Having my sister go through the newborn phases before us was encouraging and helped my husband and me know what to expect. Plus, I had years of experience with newborns and children, so I felt confident in my preparations.
I guess God had a different plan.
Nothing went as expected.
At 39 weeks pregnant, I went in for a scheduled induction. After five days of Pitocin, Cervidil, and a failed balloon placement — the most traumatic experience that should never have happened — the induction failed. We left the hospital without Princess in our arms, but with physical and mental scars. Thankfully, after much-needed rest, I went into natural labor later that night. After a few hours of contractions, I was finally dilated enough for an epidural. HALLELUJAH! Kudos to those who deliver without one.
Princess arrived a few hours later, in all her glory. I expected to have some special bonding time with her in those first moments, but instead, it was interrupted by the excruciating pain of being sewn up from a fourth-degree tear. The pain was overwhelming, and I just wanted her off me. How heartbreaking is that? A moment so precious turned into a moment of sorrow.
The weeks after her birth were a blur, yet I still feel the pang of those traumatic days. When we left the hospital, I was a zombie. I thought I would be overwhelmed with love and joy — after all, I was finally who I always wanted to be: a mom. But nothing prepared me for the numbness. Everyone expected me to be full of smiles, overwhelmed with love and connection to Princess. And when I say everyone, I especially mean myself.
But I didn’t.
I wore fake smiles, but deep down I was hollow. I carried the invisible weight of trauma. I went through the motions, frustrated that I didn’t feel what I thought I was supposed to feel. Why didn’t I have this deep, instant connection to the beautiful girl in my arms? What was wrong with me? I was suffocating, but there was no time or space to catch a breath.
Because I had certain expectations about who I should be and how I should feel, I kept all these feelings to myself. The fake smiles continued, and I crawled deeper and deeper into the silence where my trauma lived. But this is only the beginning of the journey- as Princess’s medical problems surfaced, more layers of trauma were added. I’ll share more about this in my next blog post.