The moment I knew

You hear all these stories about women having their babies and feeling that mother's instinct right away, having that bond only a mother and child could ever have. I know what that feels like, but it didn't happen right away, it didn't happen the moment I looked into her eyes. I loved her, definitely, I wanted to protect her, always. But that bond, that undeniable, sacred bond, I didn't feel for about 2 days after she was born.

The labour was pretty textbook as far as births go. My water broke around midnight September the 16th (2 and a half weeks before my original due date) after returning from the movie "The Time Travellers Wife," with my aunt and my cousin (ironically enough, the two people who coached me through the labour and birth). Despite what you might see in the movies, only 10% of women's water break by itself, so in that sense it wasn't textbook. I was admitted in the hospital and it wasn't until the next morning, after I was given Oxcitocin did true labour set in. My plan was not to have any drugs, no epidural, no Demerol, nothing. I know a lot of women go into labour with this plan, and depending on how the labour goes, decide to continue or abandon with this plan. Labour is pretty intense, and if it lasts long, I can totally see why needing an epidural is essential, you need to rest, because it is the most physically intense thing a woman will ever have to do in her life.

The first 2 hours, the labour increased from about a 2 on a scale of 1-10, to about a 7. When I found out that after 2 hours I was 7cm dilated, I knew I could continue without any drugs. The last 3 cm's and about 2 hours were a 10 on a scale of 10 in pain (maybe even a 12), and I was relieved when I could actually start pushing through the contractions.

After about 45 minutes of pushing and an episiotomy later, Yasmine Rose was born.

My first thoughts were that I was just so happy that the pain was over, my second thought was that "I had done it," I felt like superwoman! Then Yasmine was placed on my chest and she was covered in white goo, and her face was so swollen, and she had a head full of black hair. I was so shocked that she was mine, and I loved her instantly. But I did not feel that bond, quite yet. I am not sure if it was because of the physical exhaustion, or the mental exhaustion I had been through the previous 3 weeks of finding out my mother had cancer, flying half way across the world at 34 weeks pregnant, dealing with her being in the hospital and watching her die, and then planning her funeral. I had no time to recover from any of that trauma, before being admitted to the hospital myself, to give birth. I was numb, literally and metaphorically from everything I had been through.

The next day and half passed by like a dream, nurse her every 2 hours, try to sleep, etc... Then Yasmine had her hearing test on the Friday September the 18th.I didn't think anything of it, and I knew it was an important test, but also a formality. She failed the hearing test, but I was told it happens a lot, because of the mucous that still may be in her ears from the birth canal. The ear specialist told me she would come back on Saturday morning.

Saturday morning arrived and I was lying in bed, waiting for the ear specialist to give us the green light to go home. We had to stay until Saturday morning because this test needed to be completed before we left.

The specialist did the ear test, and Yasmine failed again. My heart almost stopped. How could this be happening? Was God trying to play some cruel joke on me. Taking my mother 13 days earlier then blessing me with a child who might be hearing impaired? Perhaps, most people wouldn't have thought this way, but after everything I had been through, that was the first thought that went through my mind.

The ear specialist told me that there was one more test, that was more accurate, but a little more invasive that she could do. She had to strap on electrodes to yasmine's head and behind her ears and it was attached to a program on her laptop. In all honesty I was not paying much attention. Her words sounded like slow motion and all I did was nod and agree for her to do the other test. She said it was more accurate, but she didn't do this test unless she had to.

My aunt Anita was in the room with me, and I could see her looking at me funnily, and afterwards she told me it was because I turned white as a ghost and I looked petrified.

As the specialist strapped the electrodes all over Yasmine's head, I have to admit it felt like an eternity, I could hear the clock loudly ticking on the wall as each second passed, and I reached for my aunt's hand and I held it firmly. What seemed like hours passed, when the hearing specialist slowly turned the laptop to face me and the words PASS were printed boldly on the screen.

In that moment, like a lightbulb had been turned on, those feelings, that motherly instinct just clicked on. I started to shake violently, and tears poured down my face. I remember saying over and over again "I've been through enough, I just wanted Yasmine to be ok!" I remember apologizing profusely to the specialist, because I think I may have freaked her out. My aunt calmly explained to her what I had been through, and how my mother had just died and my husband was in another country. The specialist, started to cry, and she held my hand and she said, "Your daughter is just perfect. Your mom would have been so proud"

I looked at my aunt and I asked her, "Can you please pass me my daughter." For the first time, the word "daughter" registered to me, and along with that word, came a whole new set of feelings. The need to protect her, love her unconditionally, always be there for her. It was the first time I truly felt this.

My aunt handed me Yasmine, and I held her to my chest and I hugged her and kissed her and I cried, and I cried. Now I knew. Not only did I know what that bond felt like, I knew how much my mother loved me, and how much she sacrificed for me.

That day was the beginning of my healing process..........