Pump Session: Discharge Day

Dear Haven,

Three weeks ago today, a post-partum nurse wheeled me out the front entrance of the hospital where your dad was waiting for me with the car. I held my purse in my lap and sat uncomfortably, still sore from the labor and delivery. In the days following my discharge, your dad and I would see this scene repeatedly, a new mom in a wheelchair by the curb, a car awaiting her, a baby in her arms. It was incredibly painful for us to leave the hospital empty handed, so difficult to have worked so hard, to have experienced so much and yet seemed to have nothing to show for it. We felt a little lost at the time, and plenty scared. I was scared that I wasn't pumping enough, wasn't producing enough and that my breasts would shrivel up and fall off and I wouldn't be able to provide you with the one thing I still had that was perfect for you. I think we were scared about what you were experiencing, what all of the machines and tubes, wires and lines, ultrasounds and scans were saying about you, communicating to you. And I think we were sad to leave you in a little plastic box rather than someone's arms. It was such a bewildering time for us.

You are home now, currently sleeping in my mom's arms while I pump just a little milk. My breasts didn't shrivel and fall off and the amazing part of this week is that you've started breastfeeding. Just a little bit but you are getting the hang of it - and I am so thrilled (especially thrilled that I might be able to not pump in the near future!).

I must admit that we are still sometimes scared, and still sometimes bewildered, and still sometimes a little sad that the start of our journey together was a little less than perfect. But it's less scary, less sad, less bewildering when we get to hang out with you. We are so glad that we are now all finally home together.