Hospital Love, Hospital Hate

Odd feelings and thoughts walking through hospitals. I spent some of my babymoons with both my babies in hospital. Full 3 weeks with Bryn and the majority of the first week with Rafferty.

It really is a love/hate relationship – so much bad and traumatic stuff (to me and my babies) but also I suppose a kind of erm security of surroundings – is it a kind of Stockholm Syndrome effect maybe?

The shiny corridors, the hustle and bustle combined with ghost town like areas, the uniforms of the nurses, the stethescope necklaces of the staff, the beeps and the charts.

I walked through the hospital this morning nearly in tears from all the memories it was bringing up  - happy to rush in and rush out (which meant parking was free!) but then felt an urge to go back to wander slower through the corridors. Felt lost all morning as though I was in some kind of odd limbo and almost wishing I was back there.  Hmm, can’t quite get my head round it, as to all intents and purposes my stays were sad and lonely but then with the hormones from the babymoon period does it create a kind of attachment – you make your nest where you are, memories were made there:  the first time I held my babies was there, big achievements happened there (establishment of breastfeeding, learning to express milk and seeing my colostrum turn to milk.)

Or is it the slowed down pace of hospital life, where everything takes an eternity so more can be remembered whereas once you come popping and zipping back out into the real world life is tumultuous and more confusing as you aren’t living by the strange circadian rhythms of the hospitals.