Last week, I remembered a semi–“funny” experience from my miscarriage. I was surprised to remember something funny, but I did. After the baby was born and some large blood clots came out, I started to feel faint. I laid down on the futon near the bathroom (this is where I had labored as well—I did not want to have the baby on the toilet. Luckily, I had several pairs of “disposable underwear” left from previous births and so wore those and labored outside of the bathroom on a futon. I also complimented myself on my “genius” nature for having those available and remembering to use them–I didn’t get any blood on any other item of clothing the whole time). Since the baby had been born as well as quite a few clots (one of which I assumed had to be the placenta—it wasn’t though), I felt like the miscarriage was “over.”
I was lying there thinking about how to assess blood loss and also thinking about how in so many ways this had strangely been the birth I planned for, just not at the right time. The birth was unassisted—just my husband and me—the baby was born at a little after 3:00, just as I had thought he would be, I had my futon “nest” on the floor as I had planned, and instead of trying to take a shower and clean up, I’d laid down when I felt I needed to. I was also thinking about how I felt good that I’d done it myself and that we’d given our baby a respectful and gentle and strong birth at home. As I referenced before, I had those similar endorphin-rush, “I did it! What an amazing person am I!” feelings I also had following my previous full-term births. In the midst of these thought processes, came the thought, “I obviously need to get into extreme sports!” There are probably lots easier ways to feel an endorphin rush and sense of physical competence/prowess than giving birth!
Okay, maybe not extraordinarily funny, but it amused me a great deal when I remembered it! 🙂