The next few days in the hospital were a sleepless blur (who can get sleep with nurses and assistants and housekeeping coming in every hour?) of emotional ups and downs, extreme physical pain, scares with Bodhi, frustrations, and miracles. After the surgery, we spent the next morning with Bodhi, nursing her, adoring her, still trying to process everything that had happened as I was stuck in the bed with a catheter, unable to move and immensely sore from the c-section. They took her back to the nursery in the afternoon so we could try to get a nap since neither of us had slept more than 2 or 3 hours the previous night (and I still hadn’t slept since Sunday). Less than an hour later, a doctor appeared in our room and informed us that Bodhi was taken to the NICU because she had stopped breathing on her own for “longer than they were comfortable with.” I didn’t understand – we had just had her and she was perfect. It was so surreal and I was so weak with exhaustion, I became very emotional and overwhelmed.
Bodhi spent the next three days in the NICU under observation with wires and machinery and nurses round the clock. It absolutely broke my heart to see her in there and to not be able to have her room with us. The second day in NICU, as I was wheeled down for one of the feedings (walking all that way was still out of the question, unfortunately), a doctor and several nurses were in her room and one nurse with a big cart told us we’d have to wait to go in. My heart dropped to the floor as she put on her surgical mask. I wish she would have just told me then and not sent my mind racing to the worst, but it turned out Bodhi had developed jaundice so they were covering her with glowing bilirubin blankets, which made her look like a little glow worm.
All of this caused complications with breastfeeding - something that had started out so well had now become a major struggle. The drugs used during surgery had caused a delay in my milk and made her sleepy and fussy according to the nurses. Then with her and I both hooked up to iv’s and wires, this made it really difficult and unnatural to get in a good position. They had given her formula a few times also because they said she was “voracious” and hungry all the time at 9 lbs and I just couldn’t keep up since I wasn’t producing much yet. This killed me as I had not wanted her to have formula at all. They had also given her pacifiers with sugar water for all the tests, pokes, etc. which caused textbook “nipple confusion” for her and made it difficult for her to latch on. Every 2 hours as I tried to nurse her, she arched, screamed, struggled as I cried and cried, feeling completely helpless, this snowball effect of everything spinning out of control seeming to never end.
However, the biggest obstacle of all, hands down, was the severe sleep deprivation. I thought after everything, I would be able to sleep and recover, but nurses, doctors, maintenance, housekeeping, etc. constantly came into our room throughout the night every half hour it seemed to check vitals, check stitches, ask questions, do paperwork, give medication, take out the trash, etc. I don’t know how anyone ever sleeps there! The intense lack of sleep made me delirious and sick and made it extremely difficult to focus on the one job I needed to do – feed my baby.
On our fourth day in the hospital, two magical things happened: Bodhi was discharged from the NICU back to our room (still with bilirubin blankets) and an amazing lactation consultant introduced the shield, which made Bodhi instantly latch on and nurse with no problems. I couldn’t believe this two inch piece of flimsy plastic could magically fix everything, but it did. I cried with relief as she nursed like a champ. As she slept, Jimmy and I even got a nap in. It was a wonderful, beautiful day.
I keep thinking, though, about how that time in the hospital was such a Buddhist/Yogic lesson for me. From surrendering to the intense pain during the natural labor, to using my chanting and prayer in the most powerful way I ever have, to letting go when things did not go as planned, to surrendering control and trusting strangers and accepting their compassion and kindness, to having detachment to the few (like the midwife) who did not show this compassion and kindness, to let others take care of me in the days following the surgery. I realized how quickly our physical bodies can become vessels of suffering, causing us to become so dependent on others.
And, of course, the best things in life aren’t the easiest. A church sign near where I live states, “God didn’t say it was easy, only worth it.” And she is worth everything.
Amy, a yoga instructor/doula said to me, “A bodhisattva doesn’t become a Bodhisattva by sliding into this world easily.” Indeed. I guess I should have known what I was getting into when we chose the name. Maybe if I would have named her Jennifer, this would have been a different story. :D
Amy, a yoga instructor/doula said to me, “A bodhisattva doesn’t become a Bodhisattva by sliding into this world easily.” Indeed. I guess I should have known what I was getting into when we chose the name. Maybe if I would have named her Jennifer, this would have been a different story. :D
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