When I look back on Sawyer's birth, one thing really blows my mind: I probably spent a total of thirty minutes to an hour with him in the first 24 hours. I know, right? That's crazy. There are a few reasons for this, as I think about it, and overall, I'm hoping for a different first start this time around.
He was in the NICU, hooked up to IV's, and though they encouraged me to come in and try to nurse him, the whole thing was really awkward and strange. The first time, the nurses practically shoved him on there, and he was totally not interested, partially due to the fact that he was full of fluids already, I'm sure. I appreciate that they wanted to help, but it was very unnatural. It was also really hard to hold him with all the wires to the different things they had hooked up. Later, I came back and tried to nurse again, and they actually unhooked him this time, but it was so busy and crowded, they put me and Rob and Sawyer in a broom closet. Not the, um, best place for beginnings. I felt more comfortable pumping in the room and sending it along with the nurses.
What was really strange to me to think about was why I didn't spend every waking moment either in there holding him or staring through the glass at my new little man. Because I definitely didn't. Other than those two times, and maybe one other, I stayed in my hospital room in bed. Now that's kind of inconceivable to me. Combine the artificialness of trying to bond with baby with the trauma I was feeling from a difficult birth, the pain from episiotomy stitches, and maybe even the effects of the drugs in my system (there's a proven link between lack of bonding and use of drugs in labor), and it makes a little more sense.
I think that I was in need of rest, and felt like since Sawyer was being taken care of 24-7, even if not by me, and was unable to really move because of all the monitoring stuff they had him wired to, it was okay for me to recover alone. It was also overwhelming to me to suddenly be a mother and not know what to do, and having to figure it out in front of overzealous NICU nurses freaked me out a bit.
If all of this sounds like justifying, it's really not. I'm not wracked with guilt about my seeming lack of interest or even sort of selfish self-preservation those first hours. This reflection is more trying to understand my initial reaction, which seems so foreign to me now that Sawyer and I are so tight. Like much of my birth, things didn't go as planned, and I definitely want something different for next baby's first hours.
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