The other day we went to visit the hospital where I will be giving birth, for a little tour. Even if it’s a different place than last time, it brought back some memories. Oh the pain, oh the emotions, oh what day is it? Oh wow, did that thing live inside of me..?
The thoughts of never being this tired in my entire life. Understanding why no sleep should be counted as a form of torture.
“Isn’t she the cutest thing anyone has ever seen? Has the world seen an amazing creature like this before?” When I’m looking back at those pictures today, I realize she was very wrinkly and blue and actually not THAT cute (But a few weeks later she was).
Walking from the bed in to the shower was the longest walk of my life (3-4 meters). I told the midwife I needed a glass of water with me in to the shower or I would faint.. And she gave it to me without looking at me like I was an idiot. Wondering why nobody ever told me about the pain of a shrinking uterus while breastfeeding.
Loosing count of how many times someone would come in to my room and grab my boobs and say “Time to breastfeed. Think Hamburger grip”, like I was some kind of menu. How I wanted to do the exact same thing to the all the different nurses coming in to me and see how they would feel about it. But I was too tired to squeeze anyone’s boobs or to tell anyone to fuck off. In the end I was used to boob grabbing. And hamburger grip. And being treated like my body wasn’t mine. I later realized that my body hadn’t been mine for a long time and for now, it belonged to a little person. Not crazy grabbing nurses. And it was totally ok.
Tough but ok.
When we left the hospital tour it felt like the countdown started. Tick tock… We are doing it all again.
Pain is love as Ja Rule raps.
