Triggering a memory
I just finished getting everything ready for tomorrow, so we have some chance at making it out the door bright and early (8:45 being about as bright and early as we can stand it around here) to take Aden to preschool. Derek went on up to bed, leaving the TV on even though I wasn't really watching it. A re-run of ER came on and I got sucked into it for a while. ER is one of those shows that's always good to watch as a re-run, and I think I've seen almost every episode. This one is kind of special to me though, because as soon as I realize which episode it is a cascade of memories comes tumbling through my head.
This episode of ER first aired when I was pregnant with Aden. It was late in the spring and I was about 6 months along. I was finishing up my last semester of undergraduate work at the time so we typically recorded our favorite shows and watched them later while I took a study break. My mom called to warn me that she didn't think I should watch this one though, because in it a pregnant woman goes into pre-term labor and delivers a 22 week micro-preemie who passes away a few hours later. She thought the loss of the baby would be too much for me for me to watch. I watched it anyway.
I was already past 22 weeks at that point, so maybe that's why I decided to watch it. Or maybe it's because when you're pregnant you have a near obsession with knowing everything you can, including the worst-case scenarios. Or is that just me? So I watched it anyway, and I hoped that somehow the baby would live and I cried when he didn't. I cry a lot when I'm pregnant. I cry a lot when I'm not pregnant. Life goes on.
Fast forward to July 19th when I was at the hospital being induced because my baby was nearly 2 weeks overdue. The decision to induce is a long story, one I still second guess, but there's no going back and changing it now. At 8:45 pm, 3 and a half hours after my water was broken, I got out of the hot tub (which hadn't felt all that great anyway) to use the bathroom. Walked there, contractions. Sat on the toilet clinging to Derek, contractions. Walked back into the room, contractions. Swore I was never going to do this again. Layed down to endure a dilation check, contractions. 5 cm????? Sat on the edge of the bed, contractions. Hoped that maybe the TV would distract me and make things easier. Had a brief moment of respite and saw just enough to know that it was the episode with the woman having the pre-term baby.
All thought was lost after that as the work of labor became all I could focus on, but I will never forget that episode. It will always be intertwined with Aden's birth story, a part of the momentous event that brought him into my life and changed me forever. And I don't mean simply that his birth changed me because I became a mom, because we became a family, because the world narrowed for a moment to include only us. In retrospect, the events of my labor were nearly as scripted as that show--or at least the doctor and nurse would have liked for them to be. I got to play a role but I wasn't allowed to be the director. I didn't see it and wouldn't have been able to protest at the time anyway, but the feeling of dissatisfaction nagged at me for months. I wandered a bit uncertainly, not knowing why I felt this way, not knowing if I was even allowed to feel this way. Finally I realized how the script of my labor undermined my confidence in myself and rescinded my control. That realization was fanned into anger and the anger took shape. I became informed and I became vocal and I discovered my path.
But I still can't believe that an episode of a TV show can trigger such an intense memory. I've spent the 4 hours since writing not only this entry but re-reading Aden's birth story, re-writing bits of it, smiling and crying... 3 1/2 years later I can still immerse myself into that story and emerge changed and renewed on the other side. Here it is if you want to share... all because ER was on tonight.