War Stories

As I waited in the OB office this week for my appointment to commence, I grabbed a pregnancy magazine. One page-flip past the table of contents brought me to a title, "Epidural Nightmare." Keep turning the page, I told myself. You don't need to be reading that... But I was deliberately too slow at turning the page and curiosity got the best of me. I couldn't help it if the words "jackhammer," "ripped," and "blood from my spine" jumped out at me, now could I? It's like watching a car wreck. How horrendous to see the ambulances, stretchers, and crumpled cars, yet we just have to look, taking it all in out of morbid curiosity.

Tears began to surface just a bit as I nervously read on. And my conclusion by the end of the article was that stories like this should not be published in pregnancy magazines. Parenting magazines, as in, after your own delivery is done, fine. But when you're waiting for your appointment in the high-risk perinatal office, and you reach for something to curb a bit of nervous anticipation, the last thing you should be reading is about delivery nightmares. This was not the first time this had happened. At my very first prenatal visit, I read an article about efforts you can make to reduce the pain of childbirth. Initially, it was a great article, talking about the complimentary therapies of massage, aromatherapy, and breathing techniques. But then the author just had to go into her own story. I recall one of the lines as going something like, "... I dug my nails into my husband's arm and whispered a trembling, 'you have to help me...'" Um, hello? Did this chick just negate her entire article or what? So much for positive thinking.

And speaking of those nails, Michael came home from work the other day with advice from a coworker to make sure my nails are clipped to spare him from the war wounds. A coworker of mine shared with me her "I-nearly-bled-out-and-died" story the other week. And I'll never forget my first memory of hearing about labor pain. When my parents took a class on childbirth, the instructor wanted to give the dads in the room an idea of just how much pain the mothers would be facing. "Hold your upper lip," she instructed, "and pull it out, just a little. Now rip it back over your head." It is a humorous story, but the undercurrent of fear always caused my eyes to widen a bit.

It is human nature to share our stories. A friend of mine's husband is getting his PhD in psychology, and according to him, the reason why women share their birth stories is because it is a form of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. Giving birth, whether or not it goes as planned, whether or not it's painful, can be traumatic. Anything can happen. It is, or at least I anticipate it will be, a very emotional journey into the unknown. And one recommended treatment for Post-Traumatic Stress Discorder is to tell your story.

I like hearing people's stories. Granted, maybe I should be filtering out the articles with the word "Nightmare" in them, or at least keep perspective that the person's story is told through their coping (I doubt there was actually a jackhammer assisting the Epidural Lady's needle placement.) But hearing the wildly-varied stories of others reminds me to be open to my own experience, whatever it may be like. I'm excited to join the conversation.