Pregnant without knowing it | Part 3 - After the rain
I'm on a stretcher. I was rushed to the birthing floor. Quick, too quick. Just 15 minutes ago, I thought I had an attack of appendicitis.
15 minutes ago, my life was completely different.
Dilated at 9.5 now, the medical team tries somehow to stop me from pushing. No doctor in sight, we do not even know if he will have time to arrive.
I lose consciousness. My mind flees my body in pain and this situation that makes no sense.
The contractions bring me back to earth. I let go, I let the work be done. I'm not aware of much, except the pain. It's 7:30 a.m. It's cold outside. A doctor has just entered the room in a panic. He seems to have caught something in the air. Nurses reassure me, telling me that it's over and that it's extraordinary.
My daughter came into the world as if she knew I was not ready to welcome her yet, floating in her amniotic sac.
My water hadn't broken, but that didn't stop her from entering my life. Just like the termination of pregnancy that I had chosen to have 7 months earlier.
I wish I could tell you that love overwhelmed me at first sight. Unfortunately I can't. The birth of my daughter is more trauma than a fairy tale.
Everything collapsed. My dream of becoming an experienced guide, of traveling to the other side of the planet, of living one season at a time, one moment at a time. Why me ?
On that January morning, I sank into a depression that lasted nearly a year.
And yet, I received extraordinary support! The nurses, my guardian angels, enveloped me in softness. I was mothered like never before. Without an ounce of pressure, respecting my rhythm and my bubble, they presented me with the choices available to me. They suggested I try breastfeeding, to bond with my baby.
Caring, but realistic, they explained to me that it would not be easy, that I would question my decisions, no matter which ones, every day from then on.
In a whirlwind of about 48 hours, I managed to reach out to a friend to come and support me during the waltz of baby health tests, visits from the DPJ and roller coaster of emotions.
When finally my parents had been contacted, I had to go back with them, step by step, until the beginning of this incredible story. From that moment until today, they are there to help me whenever I need it.
Despite all this support, all the gifts from those around me who made sure that baby and I lacked nothing... I no longer wanted to live. I had to take care of a baby, a little ball of love, while I was unable to take care of myself.
More than once, I thought about killing myself. I had the feeling that my passion, my career, my future and much more had been stolen from me in the space of 2 short hours. I spent months searching for a shred of light through this lingering darkness. Every day, I was asked how baby was doing, if she was developing well, if I could send photos... but very few knew the extent of my distress at that time.
But don't worry, today 6 years later, I wouldn't go back. My daughter, is my greatest gift!
I managed to recover from my depression thanks to a team of fantastic psychologists. I learned to see the good in my child, instead of broken dreams. Breastfeeding has quietly gone from " responsibility " to " precious moment ". I found myself new challenges and I understood that I could postpone my goals from before.
And even if every year, at the first snowflakes, my mind wanders... I'm fine now, with the most beautiful child in the world. We make a hell of a duo!
Today, I am finally happy that this story happened to me ♡
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