So the Journey begins

Normally, children with a BPI are hurt because they are larger than average, take a very long time to deliver, or require special medical assistance during the birth, like a vacuum or forceps. None of this was the case for us. I was in and out of labor in 5 hours, and she weighed 7 pounds, 9 ounces. I pushed for about and hour and a half, which is more than average, but not unheard of. I know BPI moms who pushed for nearly 4 hours, and I'm sure there are stories of longer ones. No forceps or vacuums were used. I did, however, tell the labor nurse several times "she's stuck," to which I got a big fat "no she's not, keep pushing" type response.

When the doctor could be bothered to be present, she kept telling us she was tired. And then she would wander off to some sleeping place until I got closer. I would not see her again until the head was coming out, and the labor nurse ordered me to stop until the doctor came. Next thing I know, there is one very pretty, broken baby.

For the remainder of our hospital stay, our concerns for her arm were brushed off with reassurances that she was just bruised, her arm would return to normal in a few days. The pediatrician came and mentioned this Erb's Palsy thing, but he wasn't sure, and he told us we needed to go to the Children's Hospital. Something about nerve damage. Physical therapy. Again, the aftercare nurses acted like it was no big deal, mentioning that breast-fed babies always heal fast anyway. You can imagine my misery when I failed at that, too.

Though I was a crying mess when my OB came in for her routine visit the next day, she gave me a very cursory "it'll all turn out fine, get some sleep," and got the hell out of there. Would it have been so difficult to answer a few questions? Would it be so hard to be human, and to give a new mother resources to help her brand new baby? WHY did everyone keep acting like it was invisible????? I felt like I was losing my mind.

We were allowed to bring our little broken baby home with us on Christmas Eve. On the way, we stopped to see Santa. It was her first outing, and it was precious. You could see the joy in Santa's face at this lovely new life he was allowed to be a part of today. We took a picture, and we went home. I remember that moment. My daughter in a pink velour jogging suit, when she can't even support her own head. It's too big for her. A brown hat with stripes that looked so tiny when we packed it for her, to take to the hospital. It was too big, too. What a joyful day it was, to go home with my brand new baby. What a proud mama I was, am, will always be.