Thanks for stopping in. There isn't really a rhyme or reason to this blog. It's just what comes to my head as I go through each day. If something I say resonates with you (positively or not), please leave a comment. It helps to know that people care. Thanks for reading!

Thursday, January 15, 2015

I wonder

I struggled with emotions towards my nurses during Charlotte's birth. They were very nice and considerate, but it just felt so routine. I felt like I was unspecial.  That's not a word.

I remember vividly hearing the nurses and orderlies and anesthesiologist chatting, perfectly normally, on the way to the OR for my D&C to remove the placenta, less than 2 hours after Charlotte's birth. The normalcy of it was surreal. I wondered if they remembered that I was awake.

I was angry in the following weeks. I felt like I should have mattered more. Like I was just a statistic. A cautionary tale. Easily forgettable.

I read this article tonight. It makes me wonder. Do my nurses remember me? I remember them. Lori and Roberta. I have no clear memory of what they looked like, but I remember them. So do I believe, "...if you've ever been the family that didn't take your baby home, please know -- please really know -- that there's still a nurse out there thinking of you."? 

I don't know. I'd like to think that's true. It never felt that way, though. I wish it did.

I remember someone commenting one time that the nurses really did care. I think maybe it was on my original Time with Charlotte writing, as I have a brief aside somewhere in the middle about how it felt routine.

I asked Lori how often they dealt with people like me. Births like mine. She said sometimes they go months without one, and sometimes... She told me there was another woman down the hall like me.  

Was the routine a coping strategy?  Are nurses allowed to show emotions? Do they allow themselves to feel the emotions? 

For me, I felt the most emotionally unstable and overwhelmed as I have ever felt. While the nurses were very nice and very respectful, I think in a way that their lack of emotion made me feel like my emotions weren't valid. To the medical community, I was just another day at work, though a sad one.

I like the idea what they really cared. That they might remember. That what happened to my family was big enough to warrant a real reaction. 

A part of me has always been a little ashamed of how much a part of my life this became because it wasn't even particularly noteworthy in the hospital in which it happened, or so I assumed. It would be nice if that assumption was wrong.

Everyone thinks they are many really are?

1 comment:

  1. I can't tell if my comment posted. .. so I'll write it again! Sometimes nurses can be insensitive. We don't mean to be, and they shouldn't have been. It is all routine to us, but that doesn't mean you weren't special or we didn't care... it just means they shouldn't have talked as if you weren't awake. I hate that your experience was like that. Xxx