The OB appointment

Jeez has it been that long since my last post? Me of the two posts a day? Each night as I try to drift off to sleep I compose long eloquent posts in my head but somehow these thoughts haven't been making it to an actual post.

The OB post-partum appointment went OK. They didn't check my blood sugars because I wasn't fasting and it had to be a two hour test. No one had told me this and no one seemed particularly in a hurry to get me checked for this. The OB told me just to do that on my next annual check up. I was terrified of the pelvic exam. T.e.r.r.i.f.i.e.d. I heart my OB but that woman checks me out down there like she's working on a car and I'm usually biting my lip to fight back tears. So naturally I was scared of the pain when she did it, but what actually happened was much worse: it didn't hurt at all. Like, I could hardly tell she did anything. Why aren't you doing cartwheels about this? You might ask. Well, um, (TMI. . . BUT-) how big am I now down there? She said see? It didn't hurt that's because a baby went through you. Yikes. We haven't done the deed since the baby has arrived and our eight year anniversary is Sunday- and um, I'm scared now.

She said that because I have a third degree tear that they would offer me the option of having a C-section next time because the nature of the tear meant I could have a risk of destroying my rectum area (or something like that). She said the risk was low but there. Great. Anyone with a 3+ degree tear have any insight on this by any chance?

I asked for Metformin and she said that since I'm nursing she didn't recommend it. It wasn't bad for nursing she said, but since the reason I'd be on it is to ovulate regularly and I'm not TTC right now, why not wait? I told her my weight is easier to lose when I'm on Met because it regulates my hormones but she said that wasn't a good enough reason to take Met and that nursing should help me get the weight losing boost I need. Sigh.

I asked her if I'd have to have Lovenox the next time (its cracking me up that I'm all assuming a next time but you gotta hope) and she said yes, we can't be sure it was the lovenox that saved this pregnancy but you had two miscarriages without it and one successful pregnancy with it so why rock the boat? She's right, but I guess it means I'll never have an option to have a natural birthing experience.

Our conversation left me wondering for days now, rolling her words over and over my mind, I had a successful pregnancy with it, without it, I miscarried. I have my baby now and I thought once he was here the pain of what I lost would vanish but the holes remain. What if I had lovenox then? What would Speck or Bug have been like? Out of all the combination of us that existed, which one would they have been? Seeing Sunflower, holding him, I'm so grateful and there are moments I'm wistful because he makes their possibilities more real. It's strange to feel that way because if I had them, I would not have him. In fact, because of losing Bug, I have Sunflower. This time last year I was pregnant with Bug though I did not know it at the time. That loss gave me my first normal ovulation ever and it was that cycle that my son was conceived. I shudder to think if I had listened to my OB who told me to wait a cycle before trying again. I shudder to think if I couldn't convince Jack to ignore that recommendation. I still remember that night, pleading. And now he's here. One day I will tell him what we went through to bring him into this world but I'll never guilt him with the shots I took for him or the labor I went through for him because as much as it was for him it was for me. because it was all selfish, so I could melt a million times over holding him in my arms. And he is worth everything.

Questions Questions

I'm heading for the six week OB check-up on Monday and I'm nervous. What happens at this visit?? I'm nervous about the sugary drink they'll give me to recheck to see if the diabetes went away. I have PCOS and am insulin resistant so won't by numbers remain wonky? And, the real thing I'm worried about is the exam. I had a third degree tear. I am scared to death of what that means. Will the exam hurt like hell? Will I never have sex in the same way again?

I just got a post-partum belt because my friend told me it helps you get back into pre-baby shape faster. I'm not sure if it will help but I'm hoping. Any of you have good experiences with this?

Thank you in advance for any advice you may have!

First Visitors, Sigh.

We're having our first visitors haul in tomorrow. I say first despite the fact that my cousin, parents, and brothers have come through and been with me on and off since Sunflower was born. My family came and took care of us. They swept up, got groceries for us, cooked, and pretty much helped keep the house running and my sanity intact. When they were coming I felt relief, not stress because I knew that a messy house would not offend them and they would not be offended by frozen pizza and canned soup.

Tomorrow however we are having visitors. My in-laws. I am organizing, cleaning and dusting. It will not be perfect, this house. I'm accepting that my bedroom will remain in a post-hurricane like state and the fridge while devoid of moldy foods will not be sparkly as it normally is. Basically, I'm making sure the toilets, towels, and sheets are cleaned and beyond that I can only do my best. [I'm shocked at even say this since in-law visits usually spark level three panic in me causing me to run around searching for dust behind the fridge and under the oven]

I hear Jack on the phone right now and the first question MIL asked was what have you guys cooked for the weekend? Sigh. While I am capable of making food and have cooked since he's arrived, the prospect of planning out breakfasts, lunches and dinners from Friday to Monday makes me kind of woozy. Granted, MIL will likely cook some stuff once she sees the pizza delivery guy for the second time but its still weight on my shoulders. I feel so selfish and like a bad daughter-in-law saying that, he is after all six weeks, not one week old. At some point I do have to start doing more than just getting by- just wish it was on my own terms.

Breastfeeding, in conclusion

I thought I should update on the breastfeeding saga in the hopes that my story might help someone else. I started out breastfeeding hating it. I had a hormonal reaction to the act of nursing. I felt depressed, anxious, and overwhelmed. The frequency of the feedings did not help matters either. I got to a point where I stopped breastfeeding and just offered him my milk in bottles via pumping. This helped and I was readying myself to pump and feed for the remainder of our time nursing, but then one day about 12 days into this method I ran out of pumped milk and he was screaming too loud for me to defrost any so I nursed him and- I didn't cry. I didn't want to sink into the depths of sadness. I felt just fine. I tried it again, and once again, the feelings I once had, were gone.

This could have been a great ending except that at the same time I stopped crying, little guy began crying. I think he got used to the bottle and was annoyed with the change of protocol. Why hike for your water when you can get it handed to you? Whatever it was, he began eating and then 10 minutes in turned red and screamed like I was pulling his toenails out. Not fun, I tell you. I experimented and fed him with a bottle and while fussy he didn't scream bloody murder. I kept at it though. When he got hysterical, Jack took him away from me, calmed him down, and we'd try again, and repeat. It was not fun. Then, one day, in the middle of crying as I tried feeding him he stopped. He looked up with a furrowed brow and just stared for a good minute. Then he went back to my breast and ate quietly, without incident. Since then, about nine days, we've been breastfeeding just fine.

Because of acid reflux, the pediatrician says he has a hard time knowing when he's full, so he will literally try eating for an hour if I let him and then promptly vomit. So now I feed him ten minutes on each side and when he cries I give him a pacifier. He weighed in at 9lb 10oz at the doctors office today so he's gaining about an ounce a day and the doctor said my method is fine.

I never thought I'd say I don't mind breastfeeding but I actually prefer it now to pumping and serving. I put my feet up on the coffee table and go through my DVRd shows, or read a book, or use one hand to scroll down my google reader and catch up on your blogs. Now that its only 20 minutes at a time, time flies.

I went from hating breastfeeding with a passion, to finding it tolerable but just barely, to now wondering what was my deal before? I am so glad I talked to lactation consultants about what I was going through and that I took it one feed at a time. Now, my goal of keeping this up for six months seems fine and not scary in the slightest. Who'd have thunk it??

Happy One Month Birthday

Dear W,

When I was pregnant with you the days crept at snail's pace and now that you're here time shows no promise of slowing down. Some days I forget what day of the week it is since days and nights blend together seamlessly [as evidenced by the fact that your birthday was officially several days earlier!] This was a month of firsts. Your first car ride, your first doctor visit and first shot (ouch), your first cuddle and kiss. Sometimes I catch you staring with wide-eyed fascination at the fan, a brightly colored pillow or the gentle glow of the lamp and I'm reminded that everything is new to you, everything is a first. I wish I could ask you someday what it feels like to experience the world so new but like everyone before you and since you won't remember these moments that I will never forget.

On the surface it could seem like a mundane month. You eat, you sleep, you poop. But there is already so much more to you. Each day you grow and change. I'm amazed how someone so small dictates the life of everyone around him. I wake when you wake. I sleep when you sleep. You cry, I run. You smile, I melt.

I've held other people's babies before. Babies who in my arms turned from cooing angels into crying trembling creatures who I could simply not console. While pregnant with you I harbored a secret fear: what if I could not console you? The day they handed you to me you were indeed a crying trembling creature in but once in my arms your cries stopped, your eyes widened and you stared at me as if you had been searching for me your entire life.

Once upon a time I was a teacher and I met an amazing student. An Afghani refugee. He had seen his father die and his mother lose a leg to an IED. The things he endured could break a grown man and yet he came to school each day with a large smile and a zest for life. He was so funny, not like a little child, his sarcastic sense of humor made all the teachers laugh. The children respected him almost as an elder, as if they knew that inside this little boy was an old wise soul. Some people have a nur [light] that radiates from them and touches your heart- he had a special nur that touched everyone he met. In the middle of the school year he told me he was moving to Sacramento. We hugged each other and cried. I never saw him again. His name was W and he was easily one of the most special people I ever met.

Welcome to the world, you may only be one month old but you've been in my heart all my life.

Love,
Your Mama

Happy One Month Birthday

I planned a newsletter filled with updates on his first month but little guy got acid reflux and Jack is out of town this week. . . so I'm a bit busy. In the meantime, a real quick happy first month birthday! Time is flying far too fast for my liking!

Breastfeeding and motherhood

Breastfeeding

Breastfeeding is getting better. We have our bad days where there are tears on both our parts (including today) but I no longer cry from the act of feeding [though I do cry sometimes when he screams at my boob for 45 minutes). And he now weighs 8lb 10oz at his last doctor check which is very very nice.

I've now been breastfeeding over four weeks. He will be one month old Monday! The only way I made it with breastfeeding this far was taking it one day at a time, one feed at a time. I'm a type-A personality. As a lawyer I was trained to anticipate future outcomes, and map out plans. With breastfeeding I couldn't do that. The thought of sticking with it for six months made me want to have a panic attack... but one day at a time I've made it a month. To be honest, the thought of breastfeeding for six months still makes me feel overwhelmed but I'm taking it one day at a time. I hope that this lesson, that one day at a time you can make it through what you think is impossible, will stay with me beyond this.

It also helps to strengthen my resolve when I get Si.mil.ac and Enf.amil ads daily in the mail with things like feeding issues are normal- see our $5 coupon inside. And it disturbs me they had a brown baby on the cover. Are they targeting me?

Motherhood

Being his mother is awesome. I thought long and hard how to describe it, but there are no words so this inadequate word of awesome- it will have to do. I thought my love would just spring up like a geyser when he was born and while I did love him from the start, the depth of my love, it grows deeper each day. There are still days I can't believe he's here, that he's mine, that I am not living in some dream that I will wake up from.

I was worried that I would continue worrying once he got here as I worried through pregnancy but I'm not. Becoming a mother. . . I don't know how better to explain it but it feels like the razor that rubbed against my heart has finally been removed. I can turn off the one track mind- the hamster wheel that was my brain on infertility. Jack mentioned the other day that I seem like a different person. Ofcourse, I am but its not that I'm a truly different person, its that I can finally go back to who I was. Infertility is very ugly and it holds you in a vice. You don't fully get that until you are free from its clutches and can look back. Each smile, each cry, each coo, each diaper change and spit up- he's healing me.

Monday he turns one month old. I'm looking forward to my first newsletter to him. As a boy, I wonder if he'll ever care enough to go back and read these when he's older, but in truth, I'm doing them for me I guess. One month. Time is no longer standing still- its whizzing by- tell me, how is this fair?

Thoughts on Sleeplessness

Sleep. I once guarded my sleep like a jealous husband. Sure I enjoyed a late night hangout with friends but the magic number was eight. Namely, I required eight hours of sleep to function be it all in the night hours or trickling into the afternoon. Even in law school where all nighters were a given, I might have stayed up past 3am on many a night, but that only meant I woke up at 11am the next day. Eight. Consecutive hours. I stress the consecutive because while my little boy respects the number eight, [heck he'll even sleep 18 hours on some days] he missed the memo on the whole consecutive thing.

During pregnancy veteran mama friends urged me with bleary eyes to rest as much as you can now! Sleep in for as long as you can stand it! Except that as humans, as opposed to bears, we can't really stock up on sleep via hibernation. So all the lazy Sunday mornings waking up and lazing about don't really help me at 3am as I rock a beautiful babe to sleep.

I snatch sleep when I can but heavy lids are now a constant companion. This past weekend Jack took a night shift, and my visiting parents took an early morning shift and I got two nights of six consecutive hours of sleep. It felt amazing. I heard there comes a time they sleep six hours in a row on the regular. Right now this sounds as mythical as the land of Oz but one can hope.

They say the best things in life are free. As I remember my sleep I know this to be true, but this lack of sleep is because of the truly best thing in my life, the one that has no price because it is truly priceless. Him. For him a thousand sleepless nights are worth it a thousand times over.

Sleep is one of our most intractable attachments. We claw and clutch and crave it. We adorn and worship it. We four hundred thread count it. It is our one sovereign domain. We hide out there; we fantasize and burrow there; we think we can't live without it. You will see that you can live without it- just enough. -Momma Zen

No one track mind here, nosirreebob

K: What do you want for dinner?
Jack: I was going to warm up the frozen pizza
K: Is that going to be filling enough?
Jack: Well if not we can supplement the feed with the food your mom made.

It's entirely possible that it requires three hours of sleep to find the above exchange absolutely slapstick hilarious, but I seriously love how even our conversations about something as mundane as dinner has so subtly altered.

Breastfeeding- final thoughts hopefully

I don't mean for this blog to become an all about breastfeeding blog but I wanted to give an update on how its going. Since last posting I stopped directly breastfeeding him, choosing to pump instead. Yesterday I had no spare milk and he was starving so I decided to nurse him. It went bad. We tried for 45 minutes and he screamed until his throat went hoarse. I guess this is what they call nipple confusion. I gave him to Jack who fed him formula and I ran upstairs and cried my eyes out in the dark. Today after a day of pumping and feeding I decided to try breastfeeding again. Again, he began screaming but Jack would take him away when he cried and soothe him and we'd try again. Finally he latched and though it took us a lot longer than it should he nursed successfully. And you know what? His eyes closed, his arms resting on my breast, it felt nice. When we got done he looked at me as though he was seeing me for the first time. He smiled at me and cooed and while I'm sure at this stage (three weeks) its probably gas like the books say, his little smile flew right into my heart and melted it completely. It gives me the strength to continue. I can't say the issue I've had with breastfeeding is over, after all, this is only a one time thing, but today I didn't cry instantly and I felt some hope. It also helped that Jack took a night feeding shift and my parents are visiting so I've actually managed to get more than four consecutive hours of sleep. When you feel more rested, things don't seem so dire.

It was hard to give formula. I wept and felt like such a failure. Then I read a passage from Momma Zen (seriously, if you're pregnant or parenting you must buy this book). She urges you to see food as food, to not look at it as representing failure or success. I've been fixated on breastfeeding = success and formula= failure that the feeding became way more than about the feeding, it become a matter of ego, a matter of me. This reminder helped me let go. Sometimes he will get formula- and its okay.

Another difficult issue about breastfeeding has been the time commitment. A feeling of being trapped (and I'm not alone in feeling this way). A lactation consultant told me law school required you to focus to get through it. Its hard but you did it because it was worth it. I'm trying to see it this way. Quitting law school tempted me countless times but I took it one day at a time and found my way through. Mama Zen talks about how parenting requires facing your ego (I swear she's not paying me to plug her!) I've lived thirty years and eight years of marriage on my own schedule. I'm not sure but perhaps this is playing a part here too.

I've heard at two months breastfeeding will get easier. Today I feel strong enough to get there. Maybe when I'm sleep deprived again I will feel differently- but I'm hanging on to this feeling today. I can't tell you how beautiful it felt for him to nurse on me and for there not to be instant tears springing to my eyes.

Done Waiting

I'm trying to take this feeding thing one day at a time. Each day is the day we're going to try the formula to see how he reacts but each day I end up rushing to squeeze another pumping session in. I only get a max of 2-3 oz per session. I heard I should pump at night to maintain supply but I can't bring myself to do it so I either directly nurse him at night or use a saved bottle of milk. If I go too long without nursing or pumping I wake up a disgusting leaky mess but its difficult to figure out how to choose between that or getting some precious drops of sleep in.

People keep telling me to stick with it and after three months it will get better. No. No. No. I will take it one day at a time. I can manage that but I am not waiting for three months. You see, I am done waiting. I waited a long time to get pregnant. I waited a long time to have this baby but now Sunflower is here. I'm swimming in his beautiful glossy eyes. His silky soft hair. His soft baby skin. I'm inhaling his baby smell as I soothe his cries by cuddling him against my body. He's beautiful and perfect and I waited a long time for him. I can hardly believe I saw him when he looked like a shrimp, then a peanut, then a skeleton waving hello. It was a long wait to meet him and now? I'm done waiting. I'm focusing on living and enjoying each moment. I refuse to stare at calendars any longer and miss out on a thing and what that means for my breastfeeding success is secondary to enjoying this miracle of mine in the here and now.

Two things they never told me

Three days. It's been three days since the baby blues have left the building. Thank you GOD. It truly feels like I was living in a fog and its finally dissipated. There are some things they never told me about in the books I had read, like 80% of women experience the baby blues. And that just because you struggled with IF and loss doesn't mean you're spared. I'm grateful for you all, and dear friends who helped me not beat myself up for the ugly thoughts that passed through my head. Letting myself feel the feelings helped them pass through me quickly.

Also, despite reading tons of articles, and books on breastfeeding, none of them told me how difficult it can be. I just finished a book that literally said there are no downsides to breastfeeding. And yet there ARE downsides, there are hormonal reactions that can happen, the act of feeding is exhausting and the constant requirement that one be available at the boob can be draining on a woman. I wonder if more women give up on breastfeeding because no one talks about this stuff. Had I known I could have prepared for it, instead I cried constantly and felt like a bad selfish mother. Little guy is still 100% breastfed but honestly I'm not sure how long I will continue. Formula is not acid and each day its siren call to me grows stronger- but you know, seeing his little face, it gives me the strength to try to hang on for one more day [I call it his Zoolander pose][Katery, recognize the outfit?? :)]:

Breastfeeding

I've read your comments at least three times, its given me comfort to know that its okay to feel the way I do about breastfeeding. In case someone comes across this blog looking for information, I wanted to share the articles people left in the comments that I found fascinating and have helped me make sense of what I'm going through.

Anonymous shared this article about the studies about breastfeeding. While perhaps better than formula the over hype may be unwarranted.

Suzanne Jones (can't seem to link to your blog!) shared this about the rise of women pumping exclusively. This made me feel so much better.

Alyssa shared this website about a condition called Dysphoric Milk Ejection Reaction, an emerging condition that is being researched where a breastfeeding woman has a drop in dopamine due to the act of feeding which triggers negative emotions just like I've been feeling.

Yesterday I pumped exclusively all day and felt like a fog was lifted from me. I could enjoy my baby without the hormones clogging up space. I didn't celebrate just yet because I couldn't be sure if I was out of the woods.

At night though, when I planned to breastfeed him, he grew frustrated and cried so much trying to eat, probably because a bottle is much easier and he had gotten used to it. Eventually he ate but it took a long ten minutes to get to that point. I began wondering if I needed to breastfeed him more so he didn't lose the ability. . . so today I breastfed him before going to the dentist and all the emotions bubbled up again. It's like an instant reflex, feed = blues. But then, at the dentist I began missing him and despite wearing breast pads I was a leaking mess. When I got home he was hungry and I didn't have time to pump so I fed him directly and did not have the negative emotions. It could because the emotion of missing him was stronger.

Jack was talking with a colleague who used to be a lactation consultant (It is SO weird that he keeps meeting lactation consultants) and she said for some women there is an instant trigger of tears with breastfeeding, particularly women with good supply, and that it can take a month or more to resolve that and she said I'd naturally want to breastfeed more than pump as time went by. I don't know if that's true or not but its nice to think so.

It feels weird to pump, clean the pump and bottle, feed him from the bottle. I'm adding steps that don't need to be there but at least now its what works. I literally fantasize about going to Costco and buying buckets of formula. I sit and just visualize it and smile. It would be easier but I've heard this is the hardest time so I feel determined to push through. . .

Emerging

I can't believe I'm in the second week of parenthood. It has been an incredible ride so far. I can tell you about his cute little toes and how they curl when we bathe him. Or how he smiles in his sleep and the way his hair is so silky soft I can't stop touching it. This is all true but I also want to be honest and tell you I've also been experiencing what they term the 'baby blues'. I'm scared to admit that on an IF blog since I know I have what all of us want, a healthy happy baby. He is just that, he is the answer to my prayers, I could not have asked for a better baby and yet- I've struggled with the baby blues and I'm praying that they will not escalate into the scary PPD. I'm scared to talk about it because I don't want you to judge me, but at the same time, I remember Mel once said that IFers have higher rates of depression post-baby than other populations and maybe the reason is because we don't talk about it and when we don't talk about it the dark thoughts fester and spread like cancer.

I have the usual weepiness over small things which I hear all mothers have. I also have a root canal issue I'm trying to resolve which doesn't help. But the biggest struggle has been breastfeeding. Namely- I hate it. And this both shocks and depresses the shit out of me. I dreamed of breastfeeding him. I was one of those people nuts for breastfeeding. So far- he hasn't taken an ounce of formula but the act of breastfeeding is triggering my blues. I have what seems to be good supply, he latches well, but I find myself weeping almost every other time I feed him. I can't figure out why. I thought breastfeeding triggered happy feelings but for me it triggers tears.

Jack met a girl to buy an edger off Craigslist and as they small talked she told him she was a lactation consultant. Of all the careers right? She also worked at my pediatricians office. She told Jack to tell me to call her. I did and she told me its hard at first but after six weeks it gets easier. She gave me advice about feeding and this helped, I took it as a sign from God that I needed to keep going and it helped to feel this way for about a day- but then today, I again wanted to cry each time I had to feed him.

I want to enjoy Sunflower. I waited SO long for him and yet this breastfeeding thing is taking over everything. It's taking away my joy. Today I just at the dinner table and wept for nearly an hour about the guilt I feel at not liking it. Jack and my mom are urging me to just stop but how can I when its the best possible thing for him? I tell myself in six weeks it will be easier but right now six weeks feels far away and I don't want to wish away six weeks, I want to enjoy this child I waited for so long!

I don't mind pumping- its annoying sure, but it doesn't trigger the same emotions and again- I can't tell you why. I'm experimenting for tomorrow and will pump and bottle feed him during the day and see how that goes. (Again- irrational as it sounds I don't mind breastfeeding him at night). I know that pumping mostly instead of direct breastfeeding can affect supply in the long run but maybe it can help me hang on longer than it would otherwise.

If that doesn't help I'm so confused. I feel such guilt considering formula so I feel stuck in a catch-22. Damned if I do, damned if I don't. I'm just afraid that this issue will spiral and I might get postpartum. I don't have that right now. I'm not depressed, but I'm frustrated and stressed and weepy about this issue.

I want to do what's best for him. I know my milk is best for him. And yet the act of feeding is affecting me in ways I never knew it could.

Sunflower's birth story

First, if anyone wants to file a class action lawsuit with me against TLC for their "Baby Story" series please let me know. I intend to sue for messing with "mothers-t0-be expectations of birth" and if this is not yet legally actionable then perhaps we can take a trip to Congress to make it so. Just kidding. . . I guess.

I went in to the hospital Thursday night around 4am because of painful contractions. They checked me and I was still only 1cm dilated but the contractions implied labor seemed ready to perhaps kick start but they told me to come back in a few hours for my scheduled induction. Jack and I went home, we cleaned up a bit, and went out to eat dinner at Boneheads. It's just a fish joint but it felt almost sacred eating since we knew it would be our last meal as a couple.

We checked into the hospital around 7:30pm. They put the IV in wrong (and left it in like that for the entire labor process causing my right hand to swell to triple its size) and inserted the cervadil. They kept trying to get me to get an enema but I was in so much pain I said no. I don't know other people's experience with Cervadil but mine was brutal as the contractions I was already getting ramped up to the umpteenth degree. They offered me Morphine. I was trying to refuse it since we saw it had adverse reactions to animal fetuses. But the pain. I listened to soothing music. I tried breathing techniques but the pain got so brutal I wanted to die and so I asked for the shot of Morphine. The morphine did not help at which point the nurse offered me an epidural. This pissed me off since she could have offered that to begin with. While they went to get the anesthesiologist my water broke. The cervadil induced contractions ramped up to beyond "hospital policy" so they removed it. Once the epidural was in, I felt like myself again despite being numbed from the waist down. At least the pain was gone. The doctor looked at my water and said it looked like the baby had passed meconium. She told me a team would be there upon baby's birth to suction him out so I would not get skin-on-skin contact immediately. I said that was fine since baby's health ofcourse is most important.

From 5am when my water broke onwards, they began the pitocin and my cervix continued to progress 1cm every few hours like clockwork. Around 6ish the doctor came in and told me I could be ready to push at any time and when I felt the urge to let her know as she had another woman at the same stage of the laboring process as me next door. I told her I couldn't feel anything waist down so how am I supposed to know if I'm having an urge to push. She hesitated and then offered to check. When she checked she said with surprise that Sunflower was already in my birth canal and I needed to start pushing now.

So I pushed. I thank the nurse with me because she was so caring and encouraging. But. That pushing. On no food. No water (fuck the IV that doesn't help my dry throat) and pain (because it kicked in now) Is hard. I honestly did not think I could do it. It was the most draining, most difficult process of my entire life. It took me 40 minutes and then he was born into this world at 7:02pm.

The rest was a blur.

The doctor did not let Jack cut the cord saying they had to quickly get him to the neonatal team. This makes me cry as I write this because I saw his crestfallen face. Still, you have to do what you have to do. I got a third degree tear so the doctor was stitching me while my son lay under yellow lights getting suctioned. He sobbed hysterically until they brought him to me and then- he stopped. Just like that as soon as he laid eyes on me. He stared at me with his big eyes as if he knew me already, as if he had been wondering where I'd been.

As I held him I began feeling dizzy. I asked Jack to hold him. Then I told the nurse I was seeing black dots and then the next thing I knew I was out cold. I would come to and then fall back out of consciousness. I think this went on for 10-15 minutes.I have no recollection of what happened during those 10-15 minutes but when I came to I was told I spiked a 104 degree fever and my blood pressure had dropped dangerously. Apparently I was not fully unconscious during those 10-15 minutes because I told everyone I was dying, I told Jack to love our son and tell him his mother loved him. I don't think I was in danger of dying but apparently this is what I said. I slowly began recovering but still was too weak to hold him. Each time I tried my hands started shaking. I couldn't stop crying because he was moving his lips and his tongue rooting, trying to find my breast but he couldn't. They then had to take him away because they had to make sure he did not have any infection like they suspected I had. Jack stayed with him, and held him and bonded with him and I'm grateful because I did not get to hold him until about 5am. Nine hours after giving birth.

It's interesting isn't it? It's like was teaching me a lesson. Expect the unexpected. I wanted a vaginal delivery for only one reason. To have the skin-to-skin contact. To hold him right away and despite a vaginal delivery he was away from me for nine hours.

I can never explain the feeling when they brought him to me. The nurse undressed him and lay him across my chest. And he just snuggled up to me. Nope, I may call myself a writer, but words can't capture how that felt. Even now I find myself crying just remembering it.

They had to prick my son with so many needles to test for issues because of my health and we ended up having to stay a bit longer than we would have otherwise have had to because of it, but the tests thank God were all normal, as were mine.

I thought I was going to lose some weight considering I let go of a placenta, and a nearly 8 pound baby but my weight loss is only 3 pounds. The doctor says its normal? My legs and feet are very swollen. Again, I'm told this is normal.

I have my son and he is healthy and that's all that matters. I can't say I like the hospital experience and had I had an option, or at least felt I had an option, I would never ever go through that process again. If you are pregnant and are complication free I strongly encourage you to consider a birthing center or a more natural process, but- that's just my take.

We're home now. I'm better. I remain a steady 99-100 degree with fever and no one really says what that means though they suspect it might be the pre-onset of mastitis. This comes from thrush I read, which is on the baby's tongue so I am wanting to pump and feed, but everyone says you can't do that you have to feed from the breast! So I'm confused. He prefers the breast but honestly I don't understand why I can't pump and give him some milk this way once in a while just so I can maybe get an extra hour of rest or maybe stop my breasts from getting infected? It's not formula, its still my breast? [Wow- I got random, didn't I?]

So, that's my birth story. Not very eloquent but it is what it is. In conclusion- just because you have a vaginal delivery- it certainly doesn't guarantee you get the experience you want. But- the beautiful child you get at the end? It's worth it a million times over.

The State of the Blog

My mother and MIL are setting up dinner. Jack is out getting pictures developed for the technologically challenged family members. I'm sitting here in the family room watching my son in the baby swing sleeping. He is so tiny. It's hard to believe he will get bigger, that one day he won't stare into my eyes after a feeding with wide eyed wonder. I see Jack hold his son, change his diapers, shed tears at his vaccination and I feel so much love, so much love in my heart that I ache knowing how temporary it is, how one day we will get old, one day he will grow up. I just want to freeze frame this moment of seeing him cuddled and warm and sleeping forever. But don't let it be mistaken, I'm enjoying these moments, I'm savoring them for the priceless moments they are.

I decided I'm going to keep blogging though I might change the title and I think its important I go a *little* less anonymous for reasons I'll explain in another post (speaking of which, his name is on the jpeg of his picture). There is so much I want to write about. The birth story, the first few days, the feeding, the emotions. I want to have a place I can write and come back to remember and hopefully what I share might be of interest to others.

I've got the hang of my iPod touch so please know I'm keeping up with your blogs while feeding Sunflower but its tough to comment that way. Hopefully once the daze of the first few weeks passes I will get back to commenting.

Picture!

First, I hope you all are well and as always thank you thank you for loving and caring comments. You know K is busy when miss-twice-daily blogger goes silent for days. Veteran mothers can feel free to laugh but new motherhood is bewildering in how busy one gets particularly when you're up every hour to feed. [Pauses for a moment to consider I'm a mother now. . . wow. . .] Posts continue to brew in my head but there are breasts to be pumped and poops to be stressed over, so in the meantime until I get my bearings. . . I wanted to share a picture with you guys. Isn't he beautiful? Nope- not biased at all! :)

Happy Birthday Sunflower

This will be brief, more details to follow but. . .

Sunflower is here!

Born May 7, 2010 at 7:02pm. 21.5 inches long 7lb14oz.

We are both doing well and will be discharged hopefully sometime tonight. When I get my bearings around me I will write about what happened and ofcourse share plenty of pictures! I hope you all are doing well.

Off to Induction

I came home and managed to sleep a little and feel like a new person. A lot more optimistic, a lot more hopeful. Thank you for your e-mails and your comments, they gave me comfort and reminded me its normal to feel this way and that I will get through this. I feel incredibly blessed to be here. There was a time I could not watch a TV scene showing a L&D room without bursting into tears. There was time a hospital was not a place of hope. No matter how nervous I may feel, no matter how many things don't go according to plan- if Sunflower is okay- there is truly nothing else that holds a candle to that ultimate goal. I'm going to do the best I can, that's all I can do.

I'm going in tonight at 7pm and will be induced Friday morning. Please keep me and Sunflower in your prayers. Many of you held my hand as I recovered from my first miscarriage, and celebrated then cried with me when I lost my second. You've never laughed at my fears with this pregnancy and your support has kept me buoyed. Thank you.

See you on the other side!

Nope- not even close

I ended up at L&D. We waited five hours to be seen by a doctor. My contractions measured at 8-10 minutes apart. Despite the herbal pills, the long walks, the eggplant, the membrane sweeping, the bloody show, my cervix is thick, way far up, and I am still only 1cm dilated. The on call OB did not know my history so said go home and we'll schedule you for an induction at maybe 41 or 42 weeks because you're not even close to being ready. And then he looked at my chart and said never mind you have GD and thrombophilia. Come back tonight for your scheduled induction. I stared at him. Can't you just keep me here, start the cervadil and get the show on the road instead me coming back in six hours? Nope. He told me my odds of a C-Section are very high given the state of my cervix but because of my issues oh fucking well.

I'm not sure what's wrong with me but in the effort to be fully honest here about my experience I will admit to feeling very emotionally vulnerable. I feel foolish for having headed over there. I should have stayed put at home. I should have let Jack catch up on rest. I keep bursting into hysterical sobs which for the life of me I don't understand? Maybe its because being in hospitals reminds me of loss, not birth. Maybe I feel bad that Jack thought it might not be time and I insisted we go, and he was right. I keep apologizing to him and he keeps responding to me like I'm three with a gentle smile and no need to apologize you did the right thing. Over and over again because I can't seem to stop apologizing.

The pain is intense. It's horrifying. When it attacks I can't sleep through it. I can no longer talk through it. Nor can I walk through it. It feels like the bottom half of my body is trying to rip itself off my torso. And what do I get for it? I get absolutely no progress. Nothing to show for this pain. I feel like a liar. Like my threshold for pain is too low, but the contractions registered high on the machine when they monitored me. It really fucking hurts.

I am maintaining hope for a vaginal delivery but I'm going to be honest, the hope is dwindling and I almost want to ask them to just section me since they continue to tell me any opportunity they get how high my chances are for this. I shouldn't be angry at my body, but the familiar frustration is coming back even though I know logically most women pass their due dates and had I not had the "high risk" factors my body would likely have done the right thing over time.

I know I sound ungrateful. Please know I realize the important thing at the end of the day is a healthy happy Sunflower. I think the pain, the lack of sleep, the frustration at the lack of progress is just wearing on me. But- I know there is a bigger picture. Hopefully tomorrow, when I meet Sunflower, regardless of vaginally or C-section, all this frustration will melt away.