In Bloom Doula Services

Before I gave birth I had no idea how I’d feel afterward or what mood I’d be in. The thought of telling visitors to not come see me right after Holden was born never crossed my mind. I thought I’d want the whole world to celebrate this day with me. But this is what happened. This is how I really felt. I labored through the night with no sleep. I was exhausted and honestly a little out of it after I delivered. I did the “golden hour” of skin to skin  that flew by. After I handed my son to my husband, I got a stitch while he was weighed and measured, and I told my mom that she could let my dad in to see Holden. I wanted my birth photographer to take pictures of everyone meeting Holden, but I had upwards of 10 people in the waiting room anxiously asking to come in. Everyone flooded into my delivery room as I lay on the bed covered only by a blanket. My dad, my father-in-law, his new wife, and her mother, my two sisters and brothers in law, a close friend, and my husband’s grandmother all filed in. Not to mention my mom, husband, doula, midwife, photographer and a slew of nurses were already in the room.

I was feeling delirious, exhausted, hungry, and overwhelmed. Everyone bombarded me with questions and comments as they passed around my son. I tried to eat and drink and talk as blood gushed from between my legs onto the bed where I lay naked. The nurses didn’t stop checking things and went about their business paying no mind to the conversation I was in or the food I was trying to eat. My father-in-law joked, “It wasn’t that hard, was it?” Another visitor commented that something was “wrong” with my son’s eyes. Meanwhile, I struggled to stay covered as I tried breast feeding off and on for the first time in front of a crowd of people. It was all overwhelming. After about 45 minutes of this, a nurse suggested that everyone leave and give me a break to get cleaned up and moved into my postpartum room down the hall. My crowd migrated to my postpartum room  to wait for me, and continued to grow as we were joined by my aunts, uncles, cousins and different nurses.

I had been told in my child birth classes that my new baby may sleep for hours after birth. If he was awake that he should be on my chest for skin to skin, but if he was asleep I could let someone else hold him, so I could get sleep too. I wanted to hold my new baby (sleeping or not), but felt obligated to share him with visitors who’d come to congratulate me. He was sound asleep, so I tried to relax and focus on getting that much needed sleep, but it was impossible. I didn’t want to be rude, but I wanted to rest in the company of those I didn’t feel pressured to entertain. It was a Sunday in October so the guys turned on a football game. I tried to nurse off and on as I juggled and maneuvered the blanket to keep myself covered. I felt guilty wishing everyone would leave when they came to see us, but truth be told if you’re not my mom, husband or best friend I don’t want you in my delivery room or my postpartum room.

Looking back I’m mad at myself for allowing myself to feel that way. I should have kicked everyone out. I shouldn’t have felt pressured to accommodate anyone after going 30+ hours without sleep and a 9 hour un-medicated labor. I shouldn’t have felt the need to cover myself as I learned how to feed my son in the privacy of my own room or listen to football games as family who seemed less than interested in what I was doing took over my room. I needed rest. I needed to meet the baby I spent 9 months growing. Yes, my family and friends were excited to meet him, but nobody was more excited than me. They could have wait until I’d showered, gotten dressed, eaten, slept and gotten aquatinted with my new baby. They could have waited until I was home. In the weeks following the delivery, I would have appreciated the company, and maybe even a meal or a hand with the housework.

I was so caught up in being polite that I neglected my needs and wants at a very vulnerable time in my life. The truth of the matter is labor and birth is a very intimate time for a mother and baby. It is exciting, beautiful and sacred. It is also messy, exhausting, It is worthy of being celebrated, but a mother should never feel pressured to share that time with anyone.

Next time I deliver, whenever that may be, I will only be inviting a few people to the hospital. If I don’t invite you then I don’t want you to come, plain and simple. It is not rude; it’s just what is right for me. I am the one pregnant and in labor. I am the one breast feeding. I don’t owe anyone anything, and next time I give birth I won’t be afraid to let anyone know that.