October 2024
Mercedes
Friedrichs
,
RN, BSN
LDRPN
Christus Santa Rosa Hospital New Braunfels
New Braunfels
,
TX
United States
A familiar face. I felt safe and seen. I felt like she was looking through me and saw every emotion I was experiencing, and with just a gentle smile, she was letting me know it was okay to feel like that.
After discovering a cryptic pregnancy at 28 weeks gestation, we were shocked and overwhelmed. We were met with judgment and shame from healthcare professionals at every corner. We first encountered Mercedes in triage during a check on baby. I was anxious to be at the hospital again, fearing I would be treated as harshly as I was in previous visits, but Mercedes was a breath of fresh air. She was the first nurse who didn’t pass shame or judgment and regarded this surprise pregnancy as a blessing right along with us! Also, the first and only nurse who didn’t call our baby an “it.” She talked to him in the womb while doing all her checks, and it warmed our hearts.
The birth went the same way as the discovery of our pregnancy. I was in labor for over 20 hours and didn’t know it. We arrived at the hospital fully dilated and ready to deliver. I was scared, anxious, and found myself having to aggressively advocate for my birth desires at every corner. I didn’t know a single nurse in the room or the doctor who delivered my baby. When baby arrived and they placed him on my chest, my world fell apart. I didn’t have that magical instant connection. There were no tears or smiles. I felt like I didn’t recognize him or myself. It was as if everyone in the room just faded out, including my husband, and it was just me and my baby and, in that moment, I felt nothing. I was crushed by my uncontrollable reaction to this moment. I just remember looking at my baby and thinking “I wish someone would just take him so I can go home, I just want to go home. Nothing felt familiar, not even my husband’s hand, which held mine so tightly. It felt like hours when really only a few minutes had passed, and I felt so lonely and afraid. Suddenly, I heard a familiar voice, and when I looked up, there was Mercedes. I immediately burst into tears. A familiar face. I felt safe and seen. I felt like she was looking through me and saw every emotion I was experiencing, and with just a gentle smile, she was letting me know it was okay to feel like that.
Once we moved to the postpartum room, Mercedes joined me again to help me use the restroom for the first time after birth. I waddled to the toilet, holding her hand. It was the first time I had stood up or looked in the mirror after. When using the restroom, I remember being in so much pain and being so ashamed and embarrassed of my body or the scene of the restroom. Mercedes stepped in without a glance, held my hand, and cleaned me. Again, I felt safe and seen. Helping a new mama in such a vulnerable moment is something she probably does many times every shift. Many nurses we encountered during our pregnancy and delivery operate in a very mundane and cold way. Understandably so, this is their job. This is their normal and their everyday routine. But to someone in a labor and delivery unit, this could be the best or worst day of your life, your most vulnerable moment, your most painful. Mercedes never behaved as if this was her job, or these were her tasks. She came in gently and humbly, stepping into our life and our story. Something you could sense she felt so blessed to do. Something that in turn, blessed me. I don’t remember the moment I looked at my baby's face for the first time, but I will never forget the moment I looked up and saw hers.
The birth went the same way as the discovery of our pregnancy. I was in labor for over 20 hours and didn’t know it. We arrived at the hospital fully dilated and ready to deliver. I was scared, anxious, and found myself having to aggressively advocate for my birth desires at every corner. I didn’t know a single nurse in the room or the doctor who delivered my baby. When baby arrived and they placed him on my chest, my world fell apart. I didn’t have that magical instant connection. There were no tears or smiles. I felt like I didn’t recognize him or myself. It was as if everyone in the room just faded out, including my husband, and it was just me and my baby and, in that moment, I felt nothing. I was crushed by my uncontrollable reaction to this moment. I just remember looking at my baby and thinking “I wish someone would just take him so I can go home, I just want to go home. Nothing felt familiar, not even my husband’s hand, which held mine so tightly. It felt like hours when really only a few minutes had passed, and I felt so lonely and afraid. Suddenly, I heard a familiar voice, and when I looked up, there was Mercedes. I immediately burst into tears. A familiar face. I felt safe and seen. I felt like she was looking through me and saw every emotion I was experiencing, and with just a gentle smile, she was letting me know it was okay to feel like that.
Once we moved to the postpartum room, Mercedes joined me again to help me use the restroom for the first time after birth. I waddled to the toilet, holding her hand. It was the first time I had stood up or looked in the mirror after. When using the restroom, I remember being in so much pain and being so ashamed and embarrassed of my body or the scene of the restroom. Mercedes stepped in without a glance, held my hand, and cleaned me. Again, I felt safe and seen. Helping a new mama in such a vulnerable moment is something she probably does many times every shift. Many nurses we encountered during our pregnancy and delivery operate in a very mundane and cold way. Understandably so, this is their job. This is their normal and their everyday routine. But to someone in a labor and delivery unit, this could be the best or worst day of your life, your most vulnerable moment, your most painful. Mercedes never behaved as if this was her job, or these were her tasks. She came in gently and humbly, stepping into our life and our story. Something you could sense she felt so blessed to do. Something that in turn, blessed me. I don’t remember the moment I looked at my baby's face for the first time, but I will never forget the moment I looked up and saw hers.