Throw in the Towel?
It has been 8 months since Cranky Jr Jr entered the world - 8 months since my large pink Ralph Lauren towel made its' way from my house to my doula's car to the hospital and back to my doula's house - where it went missing until now.
If you're not familiar with the term "doula," in my case she was a sort of labor coach, helping me to deliver Jr Jr sans drugs - believe it or not, a much better and easier experience that my first labor with drugs. While I won't say it was a walk in the park, the entire experience was very special for me. She came to our house when I went into labor - I had been in bed, then went to the floor, then back in bed where my water broke and the doula grabbed a towel from our closet to put under me. When it was time to go (frankly I think we should have left a little earlier - trust me, you don't want to be in transistion phase in a jeep on the highway for 20 minutes) I sat on the towel as we drove to the hospital and when they put me in the wheelchair from the parking lot into the building.
Our precious Jr Jr entered the world shortly thereafter (it was a relatively quick labor, at least in comparison to 14 hours with Jr) and the towel went home with the doula. A few weeks later I emailed her about it. She said it had disappeared. We were in touch sporadically after that - she still couldn't find it and I said it was no big deal.
A couple of weeks ago the doula emailed to say it had miraculously appeared! We never got around to going to her house to pick it up. Last night as I sat on the couch with Jr Jr the doorbell rang. There she was, with my pink towel in a bag. I almost burst into tears when I saw her. Cranky was totally unable to understand how emotional I instantly became, but the doula knew and understood immediately - she's had seven kids.
I didn't want her to leave. I didn't want to let go of that experience. I guess that's why I still have the postpartum creams and girly things that I bought for right after the birth. I even have the spray bottle from the hospital - OK, I know you're probably thinking that's too much information. She wasn't able to stay because one of her kids was in the car. When she closed the door I became totally weepy and Cranky was totally perplexed. "Why are you crying? You should be happy!"
The towel is still sitting in the bag. I don't think I can use it. I won't remember which one it was if it goes in with all the other towels. I want to hang on to the tangible things that were part of a special time.
As the doula was leaving, she whispered, "Are you thinking of having another one?"
I looked to make sure Cranky wasn't nearby. "Well, he doesn't want to but....."
Should I throw in the towel?
To be continued...
If you're not familiar with the term "doula," in my case she was a sort of labor coach, helping me to deliver Jr Jr sans drugs - believe it or not, a much better and easier experience that my first labor with drugs. While I won't say it was a walk in the park, the entire experience was very special for me. She came to our house when I went into labor - I had been in bed, then went to the floor, then back in bed where my water broke and the doula grabbed a towel from our closet to put under me. When it was time to go (frankly I think we should have left a little earlier - trust me, you don't want to be in transistion phase in a jeep on the highway for 20 minutes) I sat on the towel as we drove to the hospital and when they put me in the wheelchair from the parking lot into the building.
Our precious Jr Jr entered the world shortly thereafter (it was a relatively quick labor, at least in comparison to 14 hours with Jr) and the towel went home with the doula. A few weeks later I emailed her about it. She said it had disappeared. We were in touch sporadically after that - she still couldn't find it and I said it was no big deal.
A couple of weeks ago the doula emailed to say it had miraculously appeared! We never got around to going to her house to pick it up. Last night as I sat on the couch with Jr Jr the doorbell rang. There she was, with my pink towel in a bag. I almost burst into tears when I saw her. Cranky was totally unable to understand how emotional I instantly became, but the doula knew and understood immediately - she's had seven kids.
I didn't want her to leave. I didn't want to let go of that experience. I guess that's why I still have the postpartum creams and girly things that I bought for right after the birth. I even have the spray bottle from the hospital - OK, I know you're probably thinking that's too much information. She wasn't able to stay because one of her kids was in the car. When she closed the door I became totally weepy and Cranky was totally perplexed. "Why are you crying? You should be happy!"
The towel is still sitting in the bag. I don't think I can use it. I won't remember which one it was if it goes in with all the other towels. I want to hang on to the tangible things that were part of a special time.
As the doula was leaving, she whispered, "Are you thinking of having another one?"
I looked to make sure Cranky wasn't nearby. "Well, he doesn't want to but....."
Should I throw in the towel?
To be continued...
posted by Cranky's Wife @ 8:02 AM
5 Comments:
At 5:43 AM,
Capt. Fogg said…
Yes.
A world full of doulas, duvets and venti grandes is no place to bring another kid into.
At 11:29 AM,
Cranky's Wife said…
Doulas have been around for centuries. My Greek pal said in her mom's rural village the women routinely call on the older experienced women to assist in their births, whom they call doulas. I greatly preferred my doula's help to the Lamaze training that didn't work for me the first time around.
At 5:45 PM,
Capt. Fogg said…
English has been around for centuries too and has about the largest vocabulary of any language.
Why not call older, experienced people something like "older, experienced people" instead of using (or rather misusing)a Greek word for slave? Today's hip talk becomes material for tomorrow's comedians.
I also like phrases like "large coffee with cream" and words like bedspread - and I've noticed that things like bedspreads and coffee cost less in English too n'est ce pas?
At 2:56 PM,
Cranky's Wife said…
She cost a lot less than an epidural.
At 9:02 AM,
Capt. Fogg said…
Na verdade. πόσο κοστίζει?
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