I wrote these words two and a half years ago, shortly after my daughter was born. I have published these into a Facebook "note" before, so it may seem familiar to those I have known for that long. I want to make these words an official part of my blog, and there will be more from time to time.
Motherhood Part 1- Just the beginning
by Torrie Vicklund on Sunday, 23 November 2008 at 19:40
Motherhood. What an adventure, and it's just started.
Everyone told me it was to be love at first sight. It wasn't for me. At the time of my daughter's birth, I was so full of other emotions, I couldn't fit love into it. I felt relief that she was to be ok after a harrowing emergency c-section procedure, anxiety at the fact that could not feel below my waist, fear that I would be part of that 1% of people that would never again feel below my waist, frustration at the date that was 2 weeks earlier than all this was planned, and resentful at the anesthesiologist that told me it was my fault (he told me that next time I should consider losing weight next time as it made his job harder) that he could not put the IV in after 6 tries.
As this was going on, I heard my daughter's watery cries, and they brought her to me- with only her face showing wrapped in a white hospital blanket. Relief flooded through me to know that she was OK, but the feeling of instantaneous love was not there as of yet. I cried at the event and my husband's reaction at the fact we now had a daughter.
Love came in the following hours. It blossomed in me as I lay in my hospital bed listening to my husband's stories of my daughter in the NICU (Neonatal intensive care unit) and to the woman in the bed next to mine caring for her child behind a thin curtain. Love grew in me until it was akin to an ache and I needed to see her, more than just her round face and a white hospital blanket. I finally persuaded the nurses to let me go and see her at 8:30 at night, a full 9.5 hours after she was born. Complete with 2 IVs, a catheter, and wheelchair for transport, I was transported to my daughter's bedside. It was there that love grew and has not stopped growing since.
Everyone told me it was to be love at first sight. It wasn't for me. At the time of my daughter's birth, I was so full of other emotions, I couldn't fit love into it. I felt relief that she was to be ok after a harrowing emergency c-section procedure, anxiety at the fact that could not feel below my waist, fear that I would be part of that 1% of people that would never again feel below my waist, frustration at the date that was 2 weeks earlier than all this was planned, and resentful at the anesthesiologist that told me it was my fault (he told me that next time I should consider losing weight next time as it made his job harder) that he could not put the IV in after 6 tries.
As this was going on, I heard my daughter's watery cries, and they brought her to me- with only her face showing wrapped in a white hospital blanket. Relief flooded through me to know that she was OK, but the feeling of instantaneous love was not there as of yet. I cried at the event and my husband's reaction at the fact we now had a daughter.
Love came in the following hours. It blossomed in me as I lay in my hospital bed listening to my husband's stories of my daughter in the NICU (Neonatal intensive care unit) and to the woman in the bed next to mine caring for her child behind a thin curtain. Love grew in me until it was akin to an ache and I needed to see her, more than just her round face and a white hospital blanket. I finally persuaded the nurses to let me go and see her at 8:30 at night, a full 9.5 hours after she was born. Complete with 2 IVs, a catheter, and wheelchair for transport, I was transported to my daughter's bedside. It was there that love grew and has not stopped growing since.
Welcome to the world, Erika Paige. 
2 comments:
How BEAUTIFUL Torrie, Awesome that you can share such a private time of your life, Love you.
I loved reading that the first time and still do! Such a glimpse into a very personal time and the emotions surrounding it. And so honest! Hugs!
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