Baby
Camp: the post delivery hospital recovery room
It's All About Perspective
Picture
it: a small 12 X 8 ft room with a bathroom, bed, "dad bed" (love
seat), and a view of the parking garage. Sure, it's a tight fit but it's full
service. With television setup for the mom's enjoyment, it was perfect! OK,
maybe not so perfect. OK... Fine... it was more like a Soviet apartment but
with worse food. It was my Baby Camp.
If
you haven't given birth, Baby Camp is the 3 days stay at the hospital
afterwards. These days are partially for everyone's health, but you get feeling
they're making sure you don't kill the baby.
My
husband and I had very different opinions on Baby Camp. To me, Baby Camp was a
chance for me to test out this mom thing. Someone came in every four hours to
see how you and the baby were doing, answer questions, and deliver pain-meds
(THANK YOU!). Think about it, four hours leaves very little room to really
screw up your child's life. You'd basically have to be Joan Crawford to really
mess it up in four hours.
Baby
Camp was also an opportunity for someone to take care of me. I had pre-picked
meals brought to my bedside every few hours. It wasn't five star dining, but it
was one thing not to worry about. Shortly after we arrived at Baby Camp I
needed to use the bathroom. With my wobbly legs and my fresh stitches, I was
more than apprehensive about this task. Not a problem, the nurses helped me
with steady hands, surprisingly strong bodies, and a reassuring tone as they
explained the "down there" care. I knew once we left baby camp no one
as knowledgeable would be around. It was a scary thought to leave. It was
a security blanket.
Now
my husband saw Baby Camp very, very differently. He had the joy of being
6'1" and sleeping on the ridiculous dad bed. He had to leave the hospital
for every meal, being unwilling to pay for the prison quality cafeteria food.
He was annoyed by the checkups every four hours disrupting valuable sleep. With
the broken coffee machine, he had had enough.. To him, he'd joined the Night's
Watch. He wanted out, badly.
Should I Stay or Should I Go
As
luck would have it, Elliott and I were recovering remarkably well. I felt good,
she was latching, there were no health concerns for either of us. So when my
doctor and Elliott's pediatrician suggested leaving one day early, my husband
jumped at the chance to go home. I was on the fence.
Yes,
Baby Camp had its drawbacks, but I wasn't sure if I could handle motherhood and
normal home stuff while recovering. I sure as hell wasn't going to cook or
clean. I just pushed a baby out of my vagina. And Bill, I love him dearly, but
he isn't one for household chores.
So
our conversation went like this:
Bill:
Do you think we should go home?
Me:
I don't know what do you think?
Bill:
It's not up to me, what do you think?
Me:
I'm not sure, it would be nice to sleep in my own bed.
Bill:
Yes! And we want Marley (our beloved boxer) to meet baby Elliott
Me:
And I don't know, I'd like to shower and have some privacy.
Bill:
Sounds like you want to go home.
Me:
Eh, I don't know. I also feel comfortable here.
Bill:
We are going to have to go home eventually.
To
my surprise, he was right. I would have to go home and be a mom without the
comfort of around the clock care. I took an inventory of how I was physically
feeling, which was not bad at all considering what I had just done. Then I
thought about my mental state; definitely not my normal self, but also in
pretty good shape.
Me:
OK, what the hell let's rip the Band-Aide off and go home.
Bill
made a mad-dash for the nurse to let her know we would be leaving that day. We
were discharged and home within the hour.
The Fallout of the Baby Camp Breakout
I'm
glad we left early. Getting home and into my own space made me feel more like a
mom and myself. Without the watchful eye of the nurses, I was really able to
embrace my new role. It felt really important to bring Elliott and my home
together. It also gave me a chance to believe in myself and my abilities as a
new mom. Marley did not care about the baby at all.
Throughout
my pregnancy, I envisioned myself as a mom. I saw myself holding Elliott on the
porch, rocking her in the nursery, and snuggling on the couch. In those
daydreams, I was in my home, not at the hospital.
Coming
home a day early also gave Bill a chance to take care of me. He was able
to nurse me back to health. He fixed all my meals, helped me get around the
house, and took an active role in becoming a dad. He really bonded with Elliott
those first few days at home, and watching that relationship take-off melted my
heart over and over.
Stay
at Baby Camp as long as you need. However, you may be surprised how
capable you are instinctively. I was. Having the baby at home was
an immediate joyful experience and I'm glad we left Baby Camp a day early.
*We
did not actually make it upstairs to our bed for another two and a half weeks
more about this later.
