After a few minutes the doctor asked me to push again. Still no luck with the placenta. They had been trying for a few minutes to no avail. The doctor was going to attempt to pull it down herself. (YES, THIS SECTION CONTAINS SOME GRAPHIC CONTENT). Several times she tried with her hand, each with a few minutes of waiting in between. The bleeding continued. Over and over they had to change the padding on my bed. Pastor Yeze left around this time, but told us that if we needed her to come back we could just call her again.
I held our son in between moments. Our nurse brought in a tiny little white bassinet (possibly made for a doll) where we placed him in. When we placed him in the bassinet, he seemed to disappear in it. He was still wrapped in his little yellow blanket (which was a smaill hand towel) I imagined he was going to be bigger, but he was so so small. He was next to me for most of the time, but was removed from my bedside each time the doctor or the nurses attempted to pull down the placenta. At some point they layed down a bag of ice underneath the cloth mattress of his bassinet. He still looked beautiful to me, despite that he had slowly changed from a pink color to a purpleish/blueish hue. Through my eyes he was nothing more than magnificent.
With each attempt things just became more and more painful and more and more physically traumatizing. After almost an hour the Doctor then decided to try pulling the placenta with forceps. First attempt, no luck. My mind was all over the place, I kept crying out to God, "How much more Lord, How much more?"
The doctor tried once again with the forceps and I could hear myself screaming out in pain. My husband held on to my left hannd. But atlast, I has reached a state of TOTAL brokeness and I began to cry out, "no more, no more." I looked at my husband and said, I can't do this anymore, no more, no more. At the same instant my doctor seemed emotional as well and she shook her head and said to the nurses "That's enough, that's enought she has been through enough." She took the forceps out, took her gloves off, threw them down and approached me. My legs were then gently put down by the nurses, my pad changed yet again and blankets put over me. I have been through several medical procedures (appendicitis, broken jaw, ear surgeries, 3 births), but this took the cake. Never once have I resisted doctors, never once had I felt I had reached my limit, UNTIL NOW...
She said to us, "we have to get the placenta out, you are bleeding alot and we have to stop it, we have no choice but to take you into surgery" my husband and I agreed. I was still shaking from their last attempt. The doctor apologized and said they would go and prepare the surgical room. She looked at me and said "I know you have gone through alot, so we want to take care of this as soon as possible, I am going to put in the order and I will be back in 30 minutes."
As she walked away, I found myself sobbing on my husbands chest. I felt I had no more. In that moment I was defeated, I had nothing left! My husband said to me "It's going to be ok, baby" but I wasn't sure it would be.
There comes a time where each of us have felt defeated. Where we have felt we were better off giving up. I found myself in a state of total brokenness and complete helplessness. Physically, emotionally, and mentally. Within me there was no more to give no more take at that very moment. I wanted to just fade away. Stop feeling, stop hurting, stop wanting. I wanted nothing more than just everything to stop. Perhaps in all of this, I was asking my daddy to take me home. Perhaps grief and death had gotten the best of me, but it was only for a moment...
But he said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ's power may rest on me. 2nd Corinthians 12:9
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