A week ago I was still pregnant with my baby girl, liz and Burke were still waiting for the "Thundercats are go!" text message, and everybody was happy. At about 4am Monday morning I went into labor and by noon my Sarah Kate was born.
Skin to skin contact is very important for the baby's immune system and heart rate (from what I've read. Please feel free to correct me if my info is wrong) as well as bonding. I asked Liz to be the one that does that for our daughter. Eagerly taking of her shirt, she held our daughter for the first time. The bond they had was palpable in the room. At that moment I knew I had made the right decision. Watching her hold this tiny little baby sobbing and smiling there was no doubt that they belong together.
We had 48 hours together in the hospital. 48 hours of the most surreal emotions. 48 hours of being her mother. That time is something I will cherish for the rest of my life.
At 24 hours the attorney showed up at the hospital with approval to do the paperwork outside of the courtroom. One thing I found surprising is that this attorney drew up the paperwork in what he called a "humane" way so the wording wasn't as harsh as I had been dreading. As I signed the papers I was comforted by the same feeling of rightness I had felt earlier. Don't get me wrong I was definitely ugly crying and there might have been a snot bubble or two but I knew it was the right choice.
Right before discharge, Liz and Burke gave me a charm bracelet. Liz, Sarah Kate, and I all have the same bracelet with a single charm. Over the next 18+ years we will be adding to it as we experience life together.
Walking out of the hospital empty handed beside my baby and her new mom I wanted the floor to come and swallow me whole. Watching as they put her car seat in the car, I just stood there crying trying my best to hold it together. With the promise of a phone call the next day and one last kiss I let them go.
The second my car door closed a dam broke inside of me. It felt like my heart had been ripped from my chest. The image of their car turning out of sight playing over and over in my head. Holding my belly protectively, I wailed and cried all the way home saying things like "my baby" and "she's gone" between sobs; my mom crying silently beside me. I cried so hard, I was dry heaving in the driveway.
The sense of numbness and emptiness hit me like a ton of bricks. I didn't know what to do with my arms without her in them. I cried until I had no more tears to cry. The rest of that day is a little bit of a blur.
Everyone keeps asking me how I'm doing and I don't really know how to answer. I do NOT regret my decision. I am happy for Liz and Burke, they have become friends over the last 8 months and deserve happiness. Yes, it's hard to separate their happiness from my pain and sadness but rationally I know that they are worried about me and care deeply. I kept a blanket that smells like her and I carry it with me around the house. I feel guilty for not being a puddle on the floor. I've started Journaling in the form of letters to my daughter and I sign them Love, Mom. I allow myself to cry if the tears start, and continue on with my day. I don't know if any of this is the "healthy" way to deal but it's the way I'm dealing.
I get my first visit on the 30th and I feel like a kid counting down until Christmas.
