motherbaby, 1981 & 2006

There are these pictures of my mom from when I was born, that really get me. She’s lying in her hospital bed, just a couple minutes after my birth, and looking at me. Longingly, with a weak smile. She is beautiful and tired and visibly in love, and also a little sad or dazed or something. We’re both flat on our backs, unable to move much. I am not in her arms; I am alone across the room, awaiting the nurse’s attentions. She is not holding me; she is alone across the room, awaiting … one presumes … me. My smell, my warm little body, her delicious second-born. See?:

Here I am a little later, labeled “Girl Westerman,” in the then-compulsory nursery, being all cute and smooshy, but again not in my parents’ arms:

And then there are these pictures of me from when my own baby was born, that also really get me. I’m sitting in my big bed at the birth center, just a couple minutes after giving birth (in this case I have the date/time stamps from the digital photos to prove it), beaming at him. I am beautiful–and totally high on oxytocin and relief and accomplishment–and visibly in love, just like my mom but without the longing. I am not longing for anything at all. I am utterly satisfied. I am eating him up.

My baby is in my arms, and soon we are both in the arms of my husband / his father, all touching and smelling each other, feeling each others’ warmth and softness. No one is flat on anyone’s back, and I can move just fine. Eric and I are basking in two astonishing delights: the luxury of being finished with my long labor, and our delicious little first-born. And as for Noah, while he transitions into a whole new reality, he is surrounded by people who love him absolutely and whose voices are already familiar to him. See?:

These images document the very different first few minutes of my life outside my mother’s body (in 1981) and my son’s life outside my body (in 2006). By the time my baby self was off to the nursery, baby Noah and I were snuggled together naked, skin-to-skin, while I devoured as much macaroni and cheese as I could get in my mouth and he started to breastfeed.

The Lamaze position paper “Healthy Birth Practice #6: Keep Mother and Baby Together – It’s Best for Mother, Baby, and Breastfeeding” reminds us that “In their arms following birth, and while resting or sleeping, women kept their baby safe, warm, and nourished. Today, we know this ‘yearning for closeness’ is a physical and emotional need shared by mothers and babies.” The position paper outlines the considerable scientific research that now suggests “it’s best for mothers and their healthy bab[ies] to stay together after birth”: to have lots of skin-to-skin contact, to ‘room-in’ during their stay at a hospital or birth center, and to avoid “unnecessary interruptions” as they get to know each other and rest together.

But my mom’s face could have told us all that.

My mother had to yearn for closeness while she fell in love with me. I am so grateful that, twenty-five years later, my newborn and I got to have it.

[This post was inspired by and is part of the final installment of the Science and Sensibility Healthy Birth Blog Carnival. Thanks for organizing these, Amy!]

[image credit: black and white photos by Charlie Westerman]