Here comes that old feeling again

I should be happy..I keep trying to tell myself that but instead I feel robbed! I am glad that my family does not know about this site because I can spew my thoughts and not have to listen to them or see the looks, like "there she goes again" and "when will she ever get over this?". They do not understand the torture and the grief that I have silently undergone and hidden...mostly as anger or uncaring behavior. I am watching women all around me have children, including my sisters. I have a daughter, a daughter that I thought I would never have and I am so thankful that she is my life...but (there it is..that stupid word "but" that always precedes something good followed by a negative) Ok, from the beginning...I so wanted to have my sweet baby "naturally" and the childbirth experience I had so dreamed of. I prayed and prayed and was faithful (perhaps to a fault) and I was certain that the Lord had said "yes". This was not to be...after laboring for 18 hours and no sleep and no food..I had to relent to the Dr pleas that it might be for not or that it could hurt my precious daughter (the one that I had carried two weeks past my due date, the one that I had been so careful with all those months) so I gave in and had the C-section. Lets just summarize that joyful experience..blah, blah, blah..I passed out, Steve got to show her off to the family and I was in recovery shaking from the drugs, lack of sleep and food. It was not until 1 am that morning that I awoke and had to ask for her. She would not breast feed and found that they had given her a bottle after I specifically stated NOT to. Anyway, by 8am they were telling me that she had a fever and had to go the NICU...um ok. So they whisk her off to the other side of the hospital that I have to drag my weak, edematous, sore abdomen, and heavy heart to every two hours to try in vain to get her take the breast..she wretched and screamed like I was full of poison. Little did I know at the time that poison was taking over my body, I was allowing it to take hold and control me.  The nurses were not much help, they told me that she had to be on a schedule and I had 30 minutes to get her to feed or they would ONCE AGAIN take her and have no choice but to give her a bottle! I finally broke down crying and Steve came to the rescue and told them to back off. I never got her to breastfeed despite my efforts of no sleep and back and forth across the hospital while I watched nurses change shifts and just watch me. I had just began my quest for becoming a nurse and I made a mental note to never allow a patient to suffer mentally or physically...silently, having no one to turn to, to talk to, to offer a shoulder, be an advocate.  I am still angered that no one noticed that I was in the stages of grieving and NO ONE NOTICED..this is something they taught us to look for in our first and second semester of school! So out of my suffering, there will be something learned and a new way that will help others. There are no pictures of her and I together in the hospital, only Steve and her and other various family members. Now I know how a chicken must feel when the farmer takes the eggs she has diligently sat on, cared for, kept warm and worried over. Nothing more than an oven that when it went "ding"; she is no longer needed. Steve and Mom cared for her while I stayed in my bed once we got home. She would cry and I felt Nothing, I was empty. The poison had already done its damage and no one had the antidote. I would listen as they were outside my door deciding if they should just give her the formula instead of what I had pumped. I was full of anger and did not realize at the time, but my stage of grief had moved to the depression phase. I was no longer the person I once knew. I barely ate, only got out of bed to clean myself, to pump and go to the bathroom. Sure I would hold her but then she would cry and here the worried "nanny's" would come and take her, like I was not capable. I allowed this because I thought they knew something I didn't...that I was not capable of caring for my daughter. Once Steve returned to work, I panicked. That meant that me, the incapable mother, would be at home alone with her. So I began to feed the depression with food. I ate all the time, mainly crap. I quit caring...I had worked so hard during my pregnancy to stay fit and healthy and now I was doing everything that I swore that I would not do. I quickly packed on the pounds and tried to hide my shame. I knew people were talking, I was not stupid. I went back to college, consumed with getting into nursing school. I avoided being alone with her and Steve became her "world". I am now paying a price for that. She wants nothing from me. I am not allowed to take her to bed, to school, or give her a bath without a fit for daddy. I have accepted this but I am trying with all that I have to get it back! So I understand when people say, "but you have a healthy, wonderful child and you should be thankful." I am, more than they will EVER know..but they do not understand the loss that I feel, it may not be real to them but it is to me, and shouldn't that be all that matters? All of this to say, when I look at the women around me telling how hard it was, painful and the pushing..I tune out. I do not want to go back there..to that place of anger and rage. Many times I have asked the Lord "why" and He has not answered. All that I seem to be reminded of is that it was my fault and that every sin has it consequence. Let's just say that I was not a woman of "virtue" before I met Steve and I had to have a procedure done to remove precancerous cells from my cervix when I was 21 because of my "escapades." So that for now is the only answer that I have, because I was careless, my punishment has been handed down. Do not get me wrong, I have been blessed in many other areas..I am excelling at school and making great grades..but how does that heal what has been broken and lost?