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Mama Bear Syndrome


Bringing Felicity into the world included a lot of firsts—First epidural, first IV, first drive while in labor, and of course, first baby. Another first was a strange, determined, protective emotion that hit in the wee hours of the morning, the night after I gave birth.

The high and excitement of meeting Felicity and introducing her to family and friends throughout day had evaporated. My husband was home building the crib since Felicity made her advent early. He promised to return quickly. Night had fallen and I lay in the sometimes comfortable, sometimes lumpy and sticky hospital bed. As I held Felicity in one arm, I faded into an exhausted sleep.

That’s when the lights turned on and a new nurse stepped into the room. Pills. I needed to take pills… she wanted to weigh the baby…the baby was sleeping. Incoherent thoughts tried to focus on the interruption. Why? Why was she here? Her manner was a combination of practical no-nonsense and hesitancy at waking the sleeping new mom. She wasn’t anything like the cheery morning nurse who picked up my baby with ease. "Cutie,” the morning nurse called my baby. And her gently accented voice and tender manner relaxed me. Nighttime nurse, who woke me up, was something new.

Nighttime nurse returned later. Baby needed to be weighed. Felicity began to cry. In a haze of sleep, I tried to calm her. She wouldn’t quiet down. Morning nurse had magic fingers and anytime she held baby Felicity crying stopped. Nighttime nurse took Felicity supposedly to quiet her and my little baby screamed. Quick judgments flew through my brain. Nighttime nurse doesn’t know what babies need. I can calm Felicity better. I took my baby back, trying to solace her.

Felicity had had her first shot that morning and in my sleep deprived state I was certain that the little limb was sore. I had just been poked with needles too and I am a big person. So when nighttime nurse told me about the new-born screening, which included blood drawn from Felicity’s heel I felt steel inside of me. No. She would not take my baby. No. This could not be good for my little baby who was not yet twenty-sour hours old. No. Felicity would not be screened. 

It was another nurse, with gentle hands, that I finally relinquished Felicity to for her screening. Gentle-hands nurse brought Felicity back swaddled and quiet.

Sleeping bears are supposed to be left alone. The same could be said for sleeping mothers.




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