Mommy Vignettes--will be adding more!

1. The plan was natural—all natural. No need for a doctor, or interventions, or “drugs”.
2 AM and it begins.
5:45 AM at the birthing center—full of hope, determination and nervous energy. Everything looks good.
12 hours later…things just aren’t working. Time for a transfer…is hope lost? 6AM—tears flow from two different faces. A decision is made. One that will change everything, but circumstances necessitate. A husband supports his laboring wife through it all.
6:41 AM the cries of a newborn fill the surgery room. Tears flow again, but of joy this time.
When will this end?

2. A dark hospital room, lit only by faint fluorescent seeping through the crack under the bathroom door. A new mother lies in bed, a light sleep allowing her minimal rest for the task awaiting her. A newborn boy snuggled, wrapped under the sheet, nuzzles the neck of his mother, immediately understanding and accepting of her protective touch.
When will this end?

3. Emergency status--that was the diagnosis. Already a pound lost and less than a week old. Refusal to nurse. Crying, crying, crying. The tears stream down three different faces. A new father feeds by syringe. The babe has to have formula, a less than ideal start to this new life.
When will this end?

4. Nursing:
12 AM
2 AM
4 AM
6 AM
8 AM
and on…
and on…
and on…
When will this end?

5.Sitting all alone. Her husband sleeps a restless slumber, she groggily feeds their child. Resentment builds against the sleeping world. Hoping for some return to normalcy. Feeling alone and smothered.
When will this end?

6.Crying. Diaper change. Crying. Feeding. Crying. What does he need?? Feeling helpless to make it better. Ignorance is an unpleasant taste in her mouth. A trial by fire.
When will this end?

7.Snuggling in the crook of her neck, arms limp at his sides. Breathing in the scent of his mother as he giggles quietly in his sleep, dreaming of who knows what. Breath so sweet, she smiles, in love.
When will this end?

8.A routine: bath, lotion, stories, nursing…he falls asleep on her shoulder. Yay! The mother feels victorious as she sneaks out of the room, prepared to conquer many a line from her “To-Do” list. The feeling of triumph is quickly replaced by despair as cries pierce the air minutes later. The soothing: pat-pat-pat, rock-rock-rock, bounce-bounce-bounce, shh-shh-shh begins…and continues on…
and on…
and on…
and on…
When will this end?