trauma in babyville

It's been a traumatic week in babyville. Two of my best friends had babies this week. Michelle, my friend from childhood, lives now in London with her husband. She delivered a baby girl named Zoey Ruth by c-section, six weeks early. My college friend, Megan, gave birth vaginally right here in MA to a 9lb baby boy, John Michael. (Jack) I will post a picture of Jack as soon as I get one. Both babies are healthy and perfect. Their mothers have some healing to do. These two women are connected both by me...and now by their horrific birth stories.

I will spare you the gory details but I will tell you this. There was blood. And lots of it. So much so that they both needed transfusions. They both almost died. They ended up in ICU and didn't even meet their babies until the next day.

Megan told me a few weeks ago that she was scared to death of childbirth. I told her to think of all the millions women who have done it before her. I told her she would be fine.

Only she wasn't fine. She nearly died. And the day that was meant to be the best one of her life turned out also to be the worst. I hate this for her.

And I can't stop thinking about it. I close my eyes and I see all the blood. I imagine the screaming. The pain. The panic. The terror on my friends' faces. I think about their husbands watching helplessly more scared than they've ever been. It raises the hair on my arms. It turns my stomach.

I am terrified of childbirth. I am terrified of being ripped in half. I am terrified of this scene I can't now get out of my head.

And I am terrified of miscarrying again. I am terrified to get my blood test results tomorrow. Terrified for my 1st ultra-sound. Terrified we won't see a heartbeat. Terrified of having to start all over again.

To sum things up, I am terrified of everything it seems. And just praying that my friends heal quickly.