In my last post, I mentioned I was at the hospital the other day to see if the hospital would be open to an idea I have. My idea stemmed from this blog. And this blog was created because of a graduate course that I took this summer. In that course, I was supported and cheered on by my classmates to share my story. I was hesitant to share because I felt my story wasn't any different than anyone else's - all birthing stories are unique and special. Plus, I wasn't sure how I felt putting it out there for the world to see. But over the course, I felt like I was helping in some small way and maybe, just maybe, this could be turned into something.
For my graduate course work, my final course will be a Capstone course. A course where we come up with an original idea, put together everything we have learned, and put the idea into action.
I don't have all the details to my idea, but I know I have a starting point. Once I have more, I will share, but until then, I will keep you waiting and ask you questions. I think this blog may turn into a place where I continue to share my experience, but also talk through my ideas for my Capstone project.
Thursday, July 21, 2011
Tuesday, July 19, 2011
Going Back
Yesterday I went back to the hospital.
And a flood of emotions came over me. I wasn't expecting that.
In hindsight, I feel like I should have seen it coming, but I didn't. Even though I had instigated the meeting with some hospital folks, my mind never once thought of what it would be like to go back. I had thought about going back to see the nurses who had taken care of Carson, but I never did it. Maybe deep down I knew why, but today, all those emotions from when I was there the last time came rushing back.
As I drove up to the hospital and turned left towards the parking garage, I had a sinking feeling in my stomach. I despise that parking garage. It's not a regular parking garage to me. To me it represents the feelings of panic as I raced through it the day my water broke. It is the garage that my mom and husband drove in and out of for one month to take care of my baby and me. It is the garage that I drove day in and day out (sometimes by myself) to go see my baby. I hate that garage. It represents exhaustion, helplessness and a little bit of sadness. And all those emotions came back as I entered it to grab my parking ticket.
And it didn't stop there. As soon as I walked down the stairs towards the hospital doors, I remembered vividly how I had done that for 14 days. I remember how it felt. It was hot. It was sad to see all the other patients leaving the hospitals in wheelchairs. And it was bittersweet to see families bringing home their babies. I remember thinking, "When will this be done?" "When do I not have to do this anymore?" Each day was long and tiring.
I remember the routine of getting my identification badge made and walking towards the elevator to go up, wash my hands and start the routine in the NICU. The same security guy was still there at the elevator. I wondered if he recognized me, probably not.
Once I got in the room for the meeting, I thought I was fine, but once I started sharing my story to the directors of the neonatal services, I lost it. Here I was more than one year later and I still got emotional about my experience. Because it was so much more than having a baby. It was an experience of not bringing home my baby when I went home. It was trusting complete stangers who became life savers and confidants taking care of my family. It was each day going to the hospital hoping to hear the good news that my daughter would come home, but not hearing those words. It meant another day of leaving the hospital and having to be a mother from afar.
Those were the emotions that surfaced yesterday. Those are the emotions that I know some mother is going through right now. And that is why I want to help. And that is why I was there at the hospital yesterday.
And a flood of emotions came over me. I wasn't expecting that.
In hindsight, I feel like I should have seen it coming, but I didn't. Even though I had instigated the meeting with some hospital folks, my mind never once thought of what it would be like to go back. I had thought about going back to see the nurses who had taken care of Carson, but I never did it. Maybe deep down I knew why, but today, all those emotions from when I was there the last time came rushing back.
As I drove up to the hospital and turned left towards the parking garage, I had a sinking feeling in my stomach. I despise that parking garage. It's not a regular parking garage to me. To me it represents the feelings of panic as I raced through it the day my water broke. It is the garage that my mom and husband drove in and out of for one month to take care of my baby and me. It is the garage that I drove day in and day out (sometimes by myself) to go see my baby. I hate that garage. It represents exhaustion, helplessness and a little bit of sadness. And all those emotions came back as I entered it to grab my parking ticket.
And it didn't stop there. As soon as I walked down the stairs towards the hospital doors, I remembered vividly how I had done that for 14 days. I remember how it felt. It was hot. It was sad to see all the other patients leaving the hospitals in wheelchairs. And it was bittersweet to see families bringing home their babies. I remember thinking, "When will this be done?" "When do I not have to do this anymore?" Each day was long and tiring.
I remember the routine of getting my identification badge made and walking towards the elevator to go up, wash my hands and start the routine in the NICU. The same security guy was still there at the elevator. I wondered if he recognized me, probably not.
Once I got in the room for the meeting, I thought I was fine, but once I started sharing my story to the directors of the neonatal services, I lost it. Here I was more than one year later and I still got emotional about my experience. Because it was so much more than having a baby. It was an experience of not bringing home my baby when I went home. It was trusting complete stangers who became life savers and confidants taking care of my family. It was each day going to the hospital hoping to hear the good news that my daughter would come home, but not hearing those words. It meant another day of leaving the hospital and having to be a mother from afar.
Those were the emotions that surfaced yesterday. Those are the emotions that I know some mother is going through right now. And that is why I want to help. And that is why I was there at the hospital yesterday.
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
Disclaimer
I want to apologize for any spelling and grammar errors in yesterday's post from my husband. I did not know how to copy and paste his Word document, so I typed it up quickly, spell-checked and posted. I should have been more thorough. So I have reposted his post, since I now know how to copy and paste into blogspot. (I just want the world to know he is very smart!)
Happy reading!
Happy reading!
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