If I were stranded on a deserted island, I would bring a deluxe birthing suite!
To be more accurate, the island I live on is not deserted, it just feels like it sometimes.
In April of 2011, my husband's job required that he 'transferred' temporarily (for 3 years) to a tiny tropical island in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. There were no ammenities such as extra pay or free airfare a certain number of times a year to visit home. We decided that 3 years was a long time and although we really wanted children, maybe after trying to conceive for a few years, a nice long break was exactly what we needed. What better place to enjoy time with your spouse than alone on a tropical island, right?
Wrong.
I wound up getting pregnant about a month after we arrived on island. Don't get me wrong, we were thrilled beyond belief, but I also never expected to be pregnant s ofar away from everyone and everything I knew and loved. I know you've heard of pregnancy cravings, but do you want to know how difficult it is to have PF Chang's deliver chicken lettuce wraps when the closest one is 8,000 miles away? Let's just say I got really good at making my own 'fake' PF Chang's lettuce wraps.
Cravings aside, my pregnancy was not ideal. None of my friends or family got to see my belly as it grew (except through photos, which to be honest, don't do justice), I didn't get to choose which doctor or hospital I wanted to care for me or my child, my husband's job became more and more demanding and I barely saw him, I couldn't even find the stroller I wanted! These little things really shouldn't matter, but when your pregnancy hormones are going crazy, they really seem like a HUGE deal.
I got food poisoning the one time I tried to eat out after my second trimester began. Here I was, on an island, huge and pregnant, alone, depressed, unable to sleep at night, hungry for things I couldn't get here, and not making friends, because, let's face it, I was miserable to be around. I had spent the better part of my life wanting nothing more than to be a mother and I was starting to resent being pregnant.
The hospital did not help. "...if you have a roommate in your post delivery room, your spouse will be unable to stay the night with you," said the nurse giving us a tour of the four room post partum ward. How many babies can be born on the same night on a tiny island, right? Wrong again. I went into labor the morning of March 6, stayed in labor for 40 hours. Apparently so did every other pregnant woman on this Island. My son was born on March 8th and it was not an easy delivery to say the least. He was just shy of ten pounds and if you've ever seen me, you would say, "where did he fit?!" since I am all of 5'2" and 110 pounds. Even the doctors were shocked since they estimated him at 7 pounds. My husband and I were the only family or friends in the room and I can remember exactly every moment and feeling of giving birth. That last push when the doctor says, "and his head is out" and the sheer moment of joy knowing that you are seconds away from meeting your baby and being able to hold him in your arms, and then the utter terror as chaos ensues.
My son had a condition called shoulder dystocia. At 10 pounds and 22 inches, he was simply too big to fit through my pelvis and as soon as I was told to stop pushing after his head was delivered before that last push most women take to get the shoulders and rest of the body out, my child's shoulder, which was stuck, pulled his head back inside of me. At the time, I did not know what was happening. All I knew was that my nurse was on top of my pushing down on my stomach and my doctor yelled for a scalpel and was screaming at me to "push push push push as hard as you can, don't stop! DON'T STOP!" and then the blood, and then the blue and purple swollen face in the doctor's hands, and then nothing. Complete darkness and no noise- even though there was plenty of noise. Doctors were talking and asking for stitching thread, the nurse came over and tried to tell me what was going on, other nurses yelling and working on my baby, sucking noises from aspirator bulbs, beeping noises from blood pressure machines, so much talking. I heard nothing because all I was listening for was that first cry you expect to hear as your baby comes into the world.
Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Everything hurt. My heart felt like it literally stopped and the total darkness began to consume my body and drawing me away from the delivery room. One minute turned into two and then three and finally I heard a cough and a whimper. My baby was breathing finally, and then he was in my arms. Pure and unadulterated joy.
A few hours later they move us into a post partum (recovery) room and that's when we discovered that our first night with our baby would not be as a family. We had a roommate. My roommate was from the Island, and had just had her fifth child and her entire family was there- I'm talking aunts, uncles, third cousins twice removed. The first night was a sleepless night and I was all alone. Every time my baby fell asleep and I thought I would also be able to fall asleep, the roommate would press the call button and an ungodly beeping would fill the room until a nurse came to shut it off. I can't tell you how many times I heard, "Can you hand me my water?" that night. I wanted to dump a bucket of water over her head. My son was sleeping at about 8 AM and my husband had just arrived back at the hospital after being sent home because of the roommate. I closed my eyes to fall asleep and in walks the roommate's four other children, and extended family- singing, clapping, bumping into my bed and my baby's bassinet. I had not cried once. I missed my family, I wanted them to be a part of this, and most of all, I was exhausted and in pain, and unable to tell the visitors who were not even there to see me to leave. None of it seemed fair, and I just wanted to go home. I couldn't help but think of my sister's youngest baby being born the year before and spending a fair amount of time with her in the hospital- her queen sized hospital bed and private room with On Demand Movies, my Mom holding my nephew, all of the stuffed animals and flowers and balloons people were bringing for her and the baby, the 5 page menu of things she could order from the hospital 'restaurant'.
Then two days later, they told me I could go home. The moment I crossed the door to leave the hospital, I took my baby in my arms and for the first time since I found out I was pregnant felt happy; genuinely, honestly, truly happy. I realized how lucky I was through all of the 'bad' and 'unfair' things that had happened, he had almost died, but now, I had my son, I had my husband, and I had 2 more years of having them all to myself. Since that moment, I try my best to not focus on the negative and teach my child to look at how lucky we are and try to put his energy into the positive things.
And even though I really would try to fly a deluxe birthing suite here, I wouldn't change the way anything happened. The whole experience has taught me to be strong and positive, not only for my child, but myself as well.
~ Adrea
{Mom to Liam aka Moose Baby}
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