My water broke on July 3rd. I called my husband at his work, and he came home to take me to the hospital. The hospital was insistent that my water was NOT broken. After an overnight of fluid leaking, we went back to the hospital on the 4th of July 1997. I was admitted and labor had begun. He was happy there was a tv in the room. I was in so much pain, he sat behind me, rubbed my back for about 15 seconds then stopped – something on the foodnetwork caught his eye. Over and over and over again until I told him to just leave me alone, nothing was helping. He moved to a chair across the room and watched tv without saying anything else.
The doctors got nervous after realizing they werent sure when my water actually broke, so I was given some meds to speed the process up. I was in so much pain, I was given an epidural and told to try to sleep….which I did until about 4am when the nurses came rushing in, preping me for an emergency c-section. I wasnt progressing and the baby was in distress.
I was in a panic, I had no idea what was happening – I dont recall hearing anything reassuring from my husband – probably because he had nothing to say. In the surgery room I was strapped to a table, he was sitting at my head and a curtain was put up over my stomach. I was so scared, and he was just fascinated at how they cut me open and pulled the baby out.
Our son was born on July 5th at 4:23am. He weighed 7lbs 8oz, and had an apgar score of 0, 0, and 2. He was taken to the NICU. His father followed, and I was left there alone with the drs.
We went home a big happy family…back to his mother’s house, in her basement.
I breastfed, and read that fathers can contribute by getting the baby from his crib to be fed, then putting him back when I was done. I mentioned this, and he was on board, right until the baby started crying. He’d pretend to be asleep…so i’d elbow him and say “you need to get the baby so i can feed him”. He’d grunt, and I’d wait, the baby crying, and he wouldnt get up. After a few nights of this, I stopped asking – I’d have to get up and get him myself, what was the point?
Eventually we moved to the town he went to college in. We were in a low income housing development. I loved not being near his mothers house. Our new apartment had 2 rooms, a bathroom, a kitchen and living room. It was so nice to have some space!
I was good at being a mom, at keeping a schedule, at anticipaing problems, at changing diapers. I liked time alone with my baby and my husband gone to work or school.
That boy changed my life. I had a reason, a purpose…Being out away from our parents, I thought this would be just the change we needed, but insteadI hated my husband more every day. Demanding sex, taking it if it suited him, even if I didnt want to – if the baby was crying, unattended, hungry, etc. He wasn’t about to come in second to anyone, no even his own child.
One evening I needed a shower, I tried to pass the baby to him, “could you hold him while I go take a shower?”
His response was “Just set him on the floor, he’ll be fine”.
The baby started crying “No, I cant just leave him on the floor, he’s crying, just take him, play with him or something”
“I said just leave him on the floor! he’s fine! You hold him too much anyway, he needs to get used to not always getting his way.” (the baby was maybe 4 months old at this time).
“I don’t know what is wrong with you, its your kid, just hold him for 10 minutes!” He stared at the tv. I wanted to just put him in his dads lap and walk away, but I kept having visions of his father shoving him onto the floor – instead I left my son on the couch beside him, and took the quickest shower of my life.
Looking Forward 