You know, I remember Ricki’s birth like it was yesterday. We were told the diagnosis immediately, and I am glad I was. (Why that is so is not important right now.)
Anyway, after I had been cleaned up, Ricki taken to ICU (because she had turned blue in my arms), I was taken to the recovery area. Only one other new mother was there, and she seemed to be very tired. [ I couldn’t help thinking :”Does she know how lucky she is?”] The nurse came in, and gave me that “pitying look”, my first experience of being viewed as an “unfortunate”. She said “Do you want to talk?”
-“No,I’m O.K.”, I answered. I instinctively bolted from the “pity party”….
About half an hour later, another midwife entered. After taking my blood pressure (with a smile), she said “You must be worried about your baby…”
Yes, I guess so. Screaming for the nurse to come cause your child is blue is no picnic.
But the point here is, that she didn’t give me a pity reaction, but a chance to explore where I was at. So to HER I yes was able to open up, and express some of my concerns. It turns out that she herself has a special needs child. Figures…..
The nicest story I have ever heard of a parent being told “THE NEWS” was when a doctor, holding and stroking the baby, mentioned that they had some concerns…. The non-verbal message being that this is a child, a loveable child.
So hospitals, note. No pity parties.
Just the truth, with a bit of warmth.