We are home at last! Emma is struggling to get full from my breast, and she is sucking almost non stop. I had a luxurious 5 minute break from her today when I could finally take a shower and put some clothes on, otherwise I spend my whole day and night continuously breastfeeding her. She is 99% of the time just sleeping with the boob in her mouth, occasionally chewing on it. I think she needs it for comfort and I cannot deny it to her, it breaks my heart to know that she was without her mommy for two days, and that she almost lost me.
This is a scary thought: I almost died. I am lucky to be alive. I look at my little girl and think of how her life would have been without her mother, and I feel so sad. I know that she would have had many good people loving her, especially her father, and that she would have been wonderfully taken care of. I know that she would grow up to be a quality person if that is in her, and with all my motherly instincts I feel that she is kind and loving and sweet-natured, and seems to be very smart. I am happy to die giving life to her, but nevertheless I feel so sad thinking that she should grow up without this deep bond that we are sharing.
I also feel very sad thinking of MrH having to lose me as well. The man has lost so many people in his life already, it would have been so cruel for him to lose his wife and best friend, especially now when it looked like we had a little break from trauma and worry and were finally relaxing and sleeping well at night. We were starting to feel safe. It will take a couple more weeks to get back there, I think, but we'll get there again.
I keep thinking about all the women who die from pregnancy and post partum causes, one per second in the world. About how dangerous this baby-making business really is, despite the fact that in my neck of the woods, complications are rare and uneventful deliveries are the norm. I phoned my retired OB and discussed this whole story with him, and he asked me "why risk your life again" when I mentioned another pregnancy. However, the risk of this kind of hemorrhage happening again is low, and if there is one decision that I have made after losing Adrian is that I would NEVER live my life in fear. (That is when I finally allowed MrH to buy a motorcycle, and we had lots of fun riding it. He still does).
Living life out of a fear place, out of a cautious place, will lead to living less than one is fully capable of. I do not want Emma to know that her mother has not tried to fulfill her dreams because she was afraid of dying. And she will know. I want her to live with the example of two parents who go for what they want, even when doing so is bloody scary (no pun intended).
I spoke with my OB in Vancouver as well, and he said that what happened is rare and unlikely to repeat, hence he did encourage me to go for another pregnancy if I want to. That is reassuring. Of course, there is a risk of further infertility due to Asherman's syndrome (a consequence of post partum D&C), but I choose to believe that I got to keep my uterus so that I can have another baby. Otherwise what would have been the point?
Emma, if you ever read this blog when you are older, first of all get a life, what are you doing reading my ramblings? Just kidding. I just want you to know you are worth EVERYTHING to me, that I would do it again in a heartbeat to have you. This road has been all my choice. And I would like you to live with courage, and make your own choices always out of hope, not out of fear. But you are NOT allowed to ride your father's motorcycle!