[originally drafted June 29, 2011 I'm doing this for posterity!]
And now I finally get the song "I Would Do Anything For Love" by Meatloaf. I love Meatloaf. The food and the man. Especially after watching Celebrity Apprentice the most recent season. Because now I realize all the insane passion he pours into that power ballad (please imagine a mail order commercial voice saying that with the power ballad tones, you know the one, it's a cross between the monster truck rally voice and the FM radio soft hits DJ voice) is sincere. He's a passionate man. Right?
Anyway, I know Meatloaf intended his power ballad to be about romantic love. But seriously. I did a lot of staring at my son right after he was born and my heart swelled like fifty times bigger than its normal size. Like the Grinch's heart after he hears the Who's singing despite the fact he's stolen Christmas. It might have been the hormones and the Percoset (me, not the Grinch), and it might not have been. It might be the thing that happens to an individual that makes them a parent and no longer just a single entity living a life all for themself.
Now I'm living for Corbet. Before that I was living for Stoker (and I still am), but this is totally different. There's a bit in the film Punch Drunk Love, which is kind of a weird movie and I don't love it, I just remember the part where Adam Sandler's character tells another person that he's strong because he loves someone. This is like that. But loving the life you brought into the world is completely new to me. And it's crazy and good and I feel totally different about everything now.
I stare at him and think that if anything bad happened to him I would die. If anyone tried to hurt him I'm pretty sure I'd suddenly have the strength of Superman and I'd crush the villain into a thousand bits. Yep. That's what this has made me into: Superwoman. And that's why Meatloaf's song keeps running through my head. Everytime I look at Corbet and I feel my heart explode with love. Saying that, I feel a little bit like a dork, but I also think it's right.
Lately there's been a rash of articles published about some lame study that shows that parents are less happy than childless couples. Perhaps that's true, I don't know, I didn't do the study, but I think the point of the study itself is absolute crap. You can't quantify what it means to feel. People who have children feel more. I think they're more susceptible to every emotion because once you have a child there are more dimensions to life.
There's a line in Meatloaf's song about how he'd run right into hell and back, and, yeah, that's part of why it's been in my head. Because I feel like I literally did that to bring Corbet into the world, and I'd do it again. I don't mean to be dramatic (well . . . not TOO dramatic), but the labor was going great, or so I thought, but then suddenly it wasn't and I'd been at it for hours and hours and I was sort of stuck.
I'd planned for a perfect labor and I went all the way to a seven or so without medicine or anything. But that took like fourteen hours. And then Corbet's heart rate dropped with every contractions and the contractions were doing this double thing where I'd have two right in a row and then none for like five minutes. It was killing me, and it started to sound like it was killing him. The pain was something I could deal with, but when I began to know that it wasn't progressing me, it began to be fruitless and frustrating.
So anyway, things spiraled downward and I ultimately had to have a C-section. It was sort of a nightmare, because at first we thought nitrous oxide would help relax me, but at that point my blood pressure began to rise. Probably because I was freaking worried that I was going to lose Corbet. I could hear his heart rate slow every time I contracted. It felt like it stopped when I was listening. I'm sure that was in my head, but it was grueling.
Next thing I know, billions of people were in my room and then the midwives are recommending an epidural, and I hadn't wanted to do that. So that was frustrating. I was crying (quiet crying, with dignity and stuff), mostly from frustration, because I could see that things were totally out of my control and I didn't know how it was going to end.
Then, next thing I know, the midwife is recommending a C-section. That was because they did internal fetal monitoring, once I had the epidural, and they knew Corbet was truly in distress. They also surmised from the way my contractions were happening that he must have had the umbilical cord wrapped around his neck. Not only that, he was posterior, and by then he had swelling on his skull, which was contributing to him being stuck.
So we did the C-section. And again, not to be too dramatic, but man that was a hard decision, simply because I was going on no sleep for almost twenty-four hours and I'd been drugged and my body was worn to death and things had spiraled so dramatically and so quickly and there's a nurse telling me all the risks associated with a C-section, one of which was death to me and/or the baby. And Stoker's standing there watching all this happen and you start to think about how it's affecting your husband and that hurts too.
Well. Not to drag this on, but it worked out in the end. The C-section was something I don't want to repeat, but I'm thankful they could do it because I don't think things would have worked out without it. The cord was around his neck twice and he was posterior (something they didn't know until they did the C-section), but he was healthy. I've recovered well too, except for a scary allergic reaction to the Percoset that took a few days to show up, and I still haven't gotten my voice back.