Monday, January 14, 2019

I hate when the Maxwells get under my skin....

This doesn't happen very often, but I'm having a solid emotional reaction from reading a Maxwell article. 

Let me backup a bit. 

I've discussed my son Spawn's birth at 26 weeks due to rapid-onset preeclampsia with HELLP syndrome.   The 28 hours between when I received the news of my diagnosis and when Spawn was born by C-section were horrible.  The medication I was given to keep my blood pressure down and to protect Spawn's brain caused me to feel like I was running a fever, shake uncontrollably, and have the most gruesome hallucinations every time I closed my eyes.  I was more thirsty than I can describe, but I couldn't take anything by mouth because I needed an empty stomach in case they needed to knock me out and do a crash C-section.  Well meaning OB/GYN residents kept coming in and offering to talk about how I was feeling - but my BP spiked hard every time I acknowledged the terror I felt that my son who was kicking at my bladder might die when he was born - so I kept saying "No, thanks.  I'm fine."

I think the only reason I remained sane that second sleepless night was that I reminded myself that they would knock me out during the C-section because my platelets were so low that an epidural could paralyze me so if I could hang on that long, I'd either wake up from something like sleep and feel a bit better or I'd be dead...and that would probably feel better too since I'd be off magnesium sulfate. 

And then at 4am the nurse let me know that my blood work was good enough that they could put off the C-section until at least 6am which was the magical 24 window that no one thought I could make it too - I was really, really sick - and that my platelets were high enough they could do an epidural! 

So now I got to be awake during major abdominal surgery that was expected to involve enough bleeding that the doctors were planning on at least one transfusion for me and probably multiple transfusions.   I disliked that idea immensely and let my preferences be known - until the docs told me that it would be better for Spawn to not have anesthesia in his system while they tried to get him breathing.    One epidural later and I got to see my son cuss me and the world out after an uneventful birth. 

Spawn's time in the NICU was amazing - and sucked immensely.  I fell in love with Spawn fast and hard.  He was amazingly adorable with the tiniest fingers and toes.  Spawn lived to drive his nurses batty - so much so that I threatened to find Nurse Ratched - or someone trained by her - to be his primary nurse if he refused to let nice Nurse Jackie touch his isolette.  I also knew that Spawn would win out over Nurse Ratched or her followers because he's that kind of stubborn.    I loved him fiercely - but I had to sit with the fact that he had no metabolic reserve and his lungs were touch-and-go.   If another body system developed problems, he'd die.  There was nothing I could do beside waiting patiently...so I waited.  I comforted myself that once he got home from the hospital things would get easier.

Heh. 

I really needed that fantasy while he was in the NICU - and struggled pretty hard when he was about 38 weeks gestation.  That's the point I could no longer pretend he was going to go home "tube-free" off of oxygen and a feeding tube.   By the time he was ready to go home at around 42 weeks gestation (or 2 weeks adjusted), I had readjusted my expectations - and the layout of my home.

Spawn's infancy was amazing - and sucked immensely.  Newborns are exhausting.  Medically complicated kids are exhausting.  Communicating with four medical practices and two home visiting therapists is exhausting.  Anything involving multiple insurances is exhausting.   Combining all four at once made me into a highly efficient zombie. What little bit I remember of his infancy before about 9 months of age adjusted is either feeding him, washing bottles/feeding tube equipment, calling doctors, and setting up support from my parents to move him to and from the doctors' offices.

I had a very colorful prayer life during this time.   Like all parents, I had a golden dream of having a healthy term baby I could effortlessly breastfeed while I prayed my way through the Liturgy of the Hours. 

Heh. 

Honestly, I much prefer my spit-fire Spawn to that completely unobjectionable fantasy baby - and my prayer life as Spawn's mom was a whole lot more honest.   There were plenty of prayers that involved a whole bunch of swear words directed at God followed by "Pick someone else for once. I'm so sick of overcoming the dumb shit life gives me."  My other favorite was "If you want to have a conversation with me, God, I need more sleep or fewer doctor's appointments.  Your choice.  I'm taking a nap."   On the other hand, I was deeply grateful for the medical teams who cared for my Spawn-baby.  I don't know if the in-home nurses realized how much I needed to hear them say that Spawn looked great for a baby who was born so early - and that we were doing great with him, but I thanked God for them.   Watching Spawn yawn and stretch or suck happily on his paci made me feel the insanity was all worth it - and I was so grateful that he survived and was happy.

The reason I bring my prayers up is that angry, frustrated, bitter prayers are no less a prayer than prayers of joy, contentment, or trust.   That's biblical; read through the Psalms if you doubt it.  Teri Maxwell wrote a 5-part series called "Unwanted Feelings" that I can sum up as "Lie to God about your emotional state".  Part 4 is the part I found triggering.  Teri includes a letter written to her by a woman who gave birth to an extremely premature boy at 25 weeks who died. 

I have no problems with the letter; anything that a parent needs to survive the death of a child is pretty much ok with me.

The problem I have is that I can't tell if Amy E. - the mother in the story - has the right to show anger, frustration, sadness or distrust in God's Goodness without being rejected by her faith community. 

 Plus, including the letter in its entirety feels like a bludgeon to use against any woman who feels inconvenient emotions like anger, frustration, bitterness or loss of faith.   After all, Amy E. managed to trust in God - no, she managed to rejoice in God's plan! - when her baby died.  Why are you so hung up over (pick a problem)?

Thanks for listening.  I'm feeling a lot better. 

Plus, I managed to bounce a crocheted hat off the top of my husband's head when he fell asleep on the couch.  I've been threatening to do that for a while because his sleep apnea makes him snore and stop breathing if he's not wearing his CPAP.  Listening to him snort, snore and gasp is not relaxing for me....so I've told him to go to bed when he's tired or risk having soft objects bounced off his head.   That was fun.

5 comments:

  1. My gosh what horror, so sorry for what you went through! Thank God you and just-as-strong Spawn are well and good now. Preeclampsia SUCKS.

    So does guilting suffering Christians. After some consideration I visited the link posted here and I have to admit, some of the letter by the now-joyful mom bothered me. It's nice that a mother with a possibly dying baby was telling women who visited her that the baby wasn't the ultimate end, but that made my heart feel bloodless. Your words reminding me that struggling parents will do and think what they can to survive helped ground me again, but some of her other words were classic Calvinism and that's done a number on me in visceral reactions before. I've gotten much better in recent years regarding it (knowing several tactful Calvinists helped), but I was left wondering what taught the mom to think just that way and, like you, whether she'd get a negative reaction if she hadn't framed it all as a grand performance God planned to show His own greatness before emotionally impaling her.

    Frankly, including the letter in that series baffled me period, because "unwanted emotions" seems more like a label for posts about emotions that are inconvenient to the circumstances or out of place. Extreme grief over a baby dying, on the other hand, is devastating and necessary; it's the death itself that's unwanted. The Maxwells are well-known, though, for extremely out of proportion expectations of human emotions. Big surprise comments have been disabled.

    Love the crocheted hat story! Thanks for including it :)

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    1. The part that sucker-punched me was when the mom said that the baby was not the end goal. Look, even the Bible is pretty clear that parents are allowed to go bonkers in an attempt to save their children. See all of the stories involving Mary and Jesus' siblings when Jesus was preaching locally. Or the fact that Hannah made sure that Samuel had warm clothing every winter. Or the fact that nothing bad happened to Rachel when she told Joseph to give her children or she would die. The story of Abraham and Isaac when God prevented Abraham from killing Isaac has exactly one point: God does not want child sacrifice.

      Jesus was allowed to mourn Lazarus who was a close friend and an adult. I think he'd understand why losing a very wanted child would be intensely painful to parents.

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    2. Yes, that shocked me and seemed to be evidence she either wasn't thinking clearly during that time of crisis, or felt an unhealthy need to reassure everyone she wasn't focusing on her baby more than she was allowed to. Not a healthy belief system at all.

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  2. I don't really have much to add, other than to say thank you for your frankness and your honesty about an extraordinarily difficult time in your life.

    I'm still pretty young (and single), so I've never experienced pregnancy, but I think it is really useful to have a broader understanding of the range of experiences that women might have, instead of just the media narrative about the healthy, uncomplicated term baby that can be effortlessly breastfed.

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    1. You're welcome. I knew that rough outcomes were possible - I'm a twin born at 29 weeks due to untreated twin-to-twin transfusion syndrome which lead to my mild CP and my twin's deafness - but even for parents who have a special needs child the "correct" narrative is "It was hard - but life is great!". Life is great - but some days still suck and suckiness deserves to be acknowledged, too.

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