The last week of pregnancy was the longest. I was being threatened with induction if I hadn’t given birth my my due date because of low amniotic fluid levels and the fact that Luca appeared to be a big big baby according to ultrasounds, so I was doing everything I could to induce labour naturally. Eating pineapple, drinking cinnamon tea, going for walks, having sex, doing squats and lunges, and waiting impatiently. It was Semana Santa, and Tegucigalpa was dead, all the shops were closed, everyone was on vacation, and Augusto and I were in a state of suspense, willing Luca to hurry up already.
It’s the hottest time of year, and I felt massive, uncomfortable and anxious. Finally, Saturday night, 2 days before my induction date on Monday, Augusto and I went for a walk. We were passing in front of the American Embassy when I stopped suddenly.
“Augusto, I think I’m peeing myself!” I said, “I think I’ve lost control of my bladder!”
“Do you want to go back home?” he asked.
“I don’t know, why am I peeing myself?” We both looked at each other.
“Wait...do you think…”
“Could it be…?”
We hurried home, me waddling uncomfortably, worried that I had lost bladder control and that it wasn’t my waters, but upon arrival at home and another gush, I confirmed I was not, in fact, peeing myself.
Soon after, we were in the hospital and because my contractions had not started, I was induced. Within an hour, my contractions had started, and shortly thereafter, Luca’s heartbeat began to surge and drop, and the monitor’s alert light was going on and off. The baby was in distress.
In tears, I was carted off to the operating theatre, Augusto told to wait outside. Within an hour, Luca Mateo was born, in the early morning of Easter Sunday, by emergency cesarean section, weighing 8 pounds, 3 ounces.
Nothing about his birth went the way I had hoped, but in the end, having a healthy baby in my arms is the most important thing. I struggled with feelings of failure and somehow felt cheated out of a natural birth. For any future mothers out there, having a c-section is no joke. Bedridden for days, pain, discomfort, and 6 weeks (at least) of recovery time, all while learning how to care for a new baby meant that the first week was overwhelming and scary at times. With Augusto back to work within a few days, and myself limited to the house and struggling with cracked and bleeding nipples and a painful recovery from surgery, I felt lonely, isolated, and anxious most days. I cried every night for the first week out of exhaustion.
Finally, a few nights ago, I cried tears of happiness. Have you ever seen a drunk person bawling their eyes out and exclaiming “ I love you guys so much, you are the best” etc etc? That was me, overwhelmed with love for my new family. Luca and I are learning how to breastfeed correctly, I am coming down from a roller-coaster of hormones, my pain is less, and Luca is getting fatter and cuter every day. Augusto has taken a few days off this week to spend time at home, and I my heart is feeling full. I can’t describe what a mother’s love is like except to say that it is so big it almost hurts. The human body is truly amazing, and I have been in awe of the instincts that kicked in as soon as I had my baby in my arms.
We are learning a little more every day, have been peed on, pooped on, spit-up on, and basically life revolves around bodily fluids at the moment.
I am lucky to have a partner who continuously tells me how beautiful I am, when I feel at my worst, my stomach soft and poochy, an angry scar running along the bottom, my breasts engorged and leaking, constantly sweating, dark circles and with barely the energy to get dressed, Augusto can somehow look at me and see beauty. Without his support, and the support of my family (thank God for modern technology) I could never have managed any of this. I am so grateful for my family and friends for coming together and doing what they could to help us out in this new phase, and now I can’t begin to describe how excited I am to be in this new phase of my life: motherhood!
