Well kept secrets - Part 3

Why am I writing all this? What is the point of saying these things aloud?

For many reasons. One, to remember. So I can always go back and re-experience the first joys of motherhood. Second to heal, forgive and forget. For those moments that were traumatic - to be able to let go. Third, to inspire more sharing.

Pregnancy and labour came with so much advice and so many stories - from every woman I knew. In contrast, the weeks and days and hours after the baby arrived seemed like an empty vacuum. It's almost as if all this is a well kept secret. (I am not sure if its just me that this was a secret from, but I was caught by surprise by the first few weeks of Rumi.) And so, as I dealt with all my emotions, and physical sensations, I decided to break the silence in my own tiny way.

RCH was different from Peace Arch. In many, many ways. Among these was that they didn't allow our 'Doula' to stay with us at night. And in a way we thought it was okay. There was only one couch and mom hadn't yet slept since Rumi was born.

I finally made my peace with the twin sharing room, and almost began to see it for it's merits - the wonderful view, the extremely quiet neighbours (new parents it turns out, not a mother in labour!). I had also insisted that Lohit stay with the baby as I settled in. So he was down in the NICU. I was calmed by the many pictures and messages he sent me. Chief among them -

"I love him so much. He makes me cry this little devil. How will I ever not be teary eyed with him."

Secret #1 - Watching your partner fall in love with your baby makes you fall in love with them all over again.

One of the many battles we fought at RCH was the right to demand feed Rumi. They were of the opinion that the baby had to be fed every three hours. If there was no expressed milk, they would have to give him formula or wait for me to show up. This battle started dismally since my angry, upset and teary self was unable to get them to agree to my plan. My plan was simple - they would give me a call each time Rumi stirred and I would rush down to the NICU and feed him. Apparently they were not used to crazy mothers like me. This became clear as I looked around and realised I was the only mother there each time I visited.

But out came Lohit to my rescue. He suggested that he would sit in the NICU with Rumi and call me the moment he cried so I could go down to feed him. And this finally allowed me to take a nap.

A few hours later Lohit came back to the room as Rumi slept. We talked. And mom said something that made me cry. She said, "it can't be easy for her to be willing to go up and down to feed the baby and she must be in terrible pain." I broke down. Mom and Lohit were both surprised since I had been upbeat all through.

It was the intensity of my pain that finally burst through. And the feeling of being seen. Strange how simple empathy can leave you so moved.

After helping us settle in (and some more conversation), mom left for home. It is then that it struck me. They hadn't called me in hours. How was it that Rumi hadn't woken up for food yet?

As I sat there, almost in tears, our maternity nurse finally decided to check on me. (This was many hours after being there). What a rude shock after the constant attention at Peace Arch. She walked in and asked me how I was. Naive me didn't realise that she wasn't actually interested in how I really was. She was being polite. But I went right ahead and told her I wasn't okay. When she asked why, I told her how the NICU hadn't called. How I had no clue what they were doing with the baby and there didn't seem to be any communication.

She started explaining the hospital policy on not communicating! and also asked me why I wanted to demand feed the baby anyway. She also had the nerve to ask me if I had read up on demand feeding and if I knew the downsides. I gritted my teeth and told her I had and then I broke down (again!). Damn those postpartum hormones.

Instead of being able to calmly tell her that she had no business being this insensitive, I must have come across as a sissy. She turned around, looked at Lohit and said to him - "This must be a bad time to educate. I didn't realise that she has been separated from her baby so she must be feeling horrible."

As if I was deaf and dumb or worse yet not even there.

In all her sensitivity, she had also blandly mentioned that they would be discharging me the next day and the baby would have to stay. As she left the room, she left us with the confounding possibility of having to drive one hour each way to get to the baby. How was I to breastfeed with all this?

How do they teach people medicine without teaching them the basics of being human?

Thankfully, I had the husband by my side. He politely told her this was not a good time and she should go away. And then went on to help me feel better. He suggested that he wheel me down to the NICU. He then went on to speak with the nurse there to explain our situation and see if she would make an exception.

By now we had reached out to our Midwife group again. The lovely Gillian was on leave starting that day and so we reached Lisa instead. Another example of perfect empathy and care, Lisa was like a pillar (albeit only over the phone). I made mom call her (as me). I was at this point so shaky that I didn't feel I had it in me to have a conversation without breaking down.

Mom who hates calling and speaking to people unless she has to, didn't question me this time. (Moms have a way of knowing when to be there). She spoke to Lisa and Lisa told us that we could insist that they shift the baby to Paeds or keep me admitted. She also said something that stuck with me. She said, "the parents that are the worst to deal with because they keep pushing or asking for their rights, get the best care for their babies. So don't be afraid to be annoying." Hearing this changed how we dealt with everything.

Back at the NICU, I told Lohit to go inside and leave my wheelchair outside. I told him I would break down if I had to explain to one more nurse why demand feeding was important to me. Or if I had to beg to not be separated from Rumi. He understood.

The one thing I have always loved about Lohit is his gentle, calm manner. This time too he was able to get through to the head nurse at the NICU. (I think she was Julia? - she was the reason I finally began to feel safe at RCH). She agreed to call us each time the baby woke up. She also promised to work with the morning team to move us to Paeds so we could be in the same room as baby. What a relief.

Lohit shared his victory with me and left a very happy mama next to Rumi. (They only allowed one parent at a time). He then went right out to collect some Sushi and chocolate milk for me. Both things he knew would make me feel better.