In Gratitude for Abundant Gifts

As I left home earlier this week for a doctor's appointment, one of my neighbors was coming home and we got to talking. As the conversation was winding down a purse appeared from out of nowhere and she was handing it to me. "This is a gift from me to you." She explained how she came to buy it and when I tried to turn her down she simply said, "Have you ever bought something that you thought was for you but actually it was meant for someone else?" My answer was, yes. More than once in fact. I was so touched and moved by this spontaneous act of kindness that it really got me thinking.

I began to revisit the past few weeks with all of its challenges, set backs, and emotions. I meant to write weeks ago about my hospital experience with doctors and nurses who remembered me fondly and truly went out of their way to make me well. Very contentious and sincere in their desire to understand the complications from the C-Section. One nurse in particular stands out from my third visit to the hospital. She told me that I looked so much better than the last time she saw me, she had been thinking about me and actually had gone home and prayed for me to get better. She left the room with tears in her eyes. Every doctor or nurse that I saw more than once remarked about how they were thinking of me and my visits always ended with us saying that we hoped we didn't see each other again unless it was someplace like a grocery store or the park. Numerous gifts of compassion and being a recipient of excellent health care. 

My neighbor's spontaneous act of kindness brought back to me the faces of every person who came into our home to be of assistance during a difficult time. Some people drove me to the hospital and they stayed with me as I waited to be seen. Some prayed with me. Some brought food. Some did laundry, washed dishes, sterilized bottles, held the baby so I could eat. Some just sat and visited. Some came for moral support. And one person helped to arrange many of the opportunities for others to perform such beautiful acts of service. And one person drove from a long distance to be with us. Amazing gifts of time and love. 

At one point, early on during this life changing experience, I remember lying in my hospital bed thinking that there had to be some reason for what was happening. I remember thinking why would it be that someone who had wanted to have a baby for so long, who had done a lot of self work to hopefully break negative cycles from family of origin,  who was ready for motherhood - why would it be that from the beginning I would not be able to fully experience holding, feeding, carrying my son. The only thing I came to mind was time. All of the complications allowed time for me to transition into becoming a mother and I had permission. I was given time to think, to feel emotions, to feel the effects of the hormones leaving my body, and to let it sink in that things for me would never be the same. It also presented an opportunity for my husband to take on what mothers are expected to do right away and that is the complete care of another person. My husband and son were able to bond and any misgivings or lack of confidence my husband may have felt had to be conquered in order to set up to the plate. And he did so with natural ability and great love. Yet more gifts. Gifts of time, a stronger marriage, and family cohesion. 

Although I was aware of the plenitude of gifts I was being given, I was first overwhelmed by the powerlessness and fear I felt after experiencing numerous health problems. I feel a deep gratitude for the gift of writing. To be able to form words that can bring thought, feelings and experiences out and therefore, more concrete. Sharing my writing brought to me gifts of wisdom and encouragement. It is meditative and therapeutic for me to be able to write and it was writing out my experiences that brought me here. Here to this space where I can finally also acknowledge the beauty of all I experienced in the gifts I received. 

I have thought numerous times on the tale of of Majnun. His desperate search for his love Layli brought him to a city where he was doggedly chased by night watchmen. Their pursuit of him brought him to a high wall and with his last bit of strength, he climbed over it throwing himself down into a garden on the other side. He looked up to see his beloved Layli in this garden where she was searching for a ring she had lost. In that moment he realized that the night watchmen were a gift from God. Had he known where they would bring him, he would have blessed them from them from the beginning.

Being able to see the end in the beginning and embracing the tests and difficulties that may come our way is a true act of radiant acquiescence and faith. Hopefully someday, I will get there but I am grateful that I am able to see every gift, even if it is at the end of this journey. 

Patience Post-Partum - True Talk

What was my imagined, what I realize now to be, my romanticized birthing/post partum experience? I would go to the Birthing Center after resting all day and waiting for the contractions to be 5 minutes apart lasting 1 minute. My husband, mother, doula and mid-wife would be there - and they all were. During labor I would be able to eat all of the foods I wanted to eat to keep my energy up. During labor we would practice all of the pain managing techniques learned in birthing class. I would go through all of the stages of labor and would deliver my son in the birthing tub. When my son was born he would be put on my chest and my husband would cut the umbilical cord when we felt it was time. I was prepared for all the messy immediate post birth stuff and we even bought a sits bath for the first time I would use the bathroom after a vaginal delivery. (The sits bath was never used.) I would nurse right away and we would sleep. I had prepared an "after birth meal" and we would have eaten it right there at the Birthing Center. I imagined feeling like I was in a cocoon after the birth with just me, my husband, and our son in it. We would come home where we'd rest and gently transition into being parents. I would spend a few weeks recovering and would be fully recovered by 6 weeks. I would be able to wear my son (sling), nurse, walk, drive, dance, exercise. This was my imagined experience. Below is the reality:

I have abdominal separation which is a pretty common condition that occurs during pregnancy. Basically, as the baby gets bigger near the end, the abdominal muscles can separate to accommodate.  This happened for me with my son but the condition was exacerbated further during the C-section when the doctors had to stretch these muscles apart to get to the uterus. To make matters even more complicated, I had a haematoma under half of the incision which was opened to clean it out and left open. So, for now, my husband will continue packing the wound twice a day and I cannot start exercise until this wound is healed. I am basically 6 weeks post-partum  and this would be the normal time to start considering exercise. Me, I am going to have to wait. So my belly is all soft and I still look pregnant. I am not so bothered by the still looking pregnant part as much as the soft belly part. It is really uncomfortable. I never realized just how often I used my ab muscles or how much they supported my posture and physical equilibrium. So, yet another post partum plan that I have had to relinquish was to start taking dance and yoga/pilates classes.

I feel like I am being tested in many ways. I have never considered myself a patient person but I was forced to be patiently flexible in Abu Dhabi. I thought I had learned. Apparently I didn't. I feel like a live wire ready to explode most days and tempering that with patience is tough. It would be nice to be able to put my son in a baby sling so I can go about my business while wearing him. It would be nice to be able to hold him for as long as I want without by stomach becoming painful. It would be nice if this wound in my gut would heal so that I don't feel discomfort every time I walk. It would be nice to be able to sleep on my side again without my rib cage hurting. It would be nice to have my body back. Now I am looking at MONTHS of recovery. I make little efforts to see the small victories. The wound in my gut is getting smaller. I am only on blood thinners now. I am in far less pain now. Half of the incision is completely healed. I am no longer having pain in my kidney area. Patience. Slow going recovery.

Let me be real. Some would say, "BUT you have a beautiful baby boy! Enjoy him and don't worry about the rest." Yes, I do have a lovely son that I am not able to fully enjoy because of my physical complications. I can push it. I can do lots of lifting and carrying but what will happen in the long run? Will I heal as well as I can? Do I chance long term problems for short term gratification? My answer is, "No" and it is an answer I have to live with. It is the answer that forces me to accept that nothing I had hoped to experience during birth or post partum came to pass and I can choose to radiantly acquiesce, be depressed, or be angry that I had such a shitty experience with all of its complications. I think I have mostly been angry. Every once in a while I descend into "feeling sorry for myself tears" but I definitely have not radiantly acquiesced. That requires letting go of the vain imaginings but I am more interested in being pissed at the moment. I think I am moving towards radiant acquiesce. I figure like most life changing, life altering, life disappointing experiences one moves through stages and I am about tired of being angry. Maybe someday I will be able to peacefully surrender to life's randomness without hesitation. I am not there yet and I look at my gorgeous son and wish I could do more.