Survival of the hospital stay.

Now... continuing from my last post.

I've never felt such a need for someone in my life as the moment i saw my husband and baby.  

I saw them and my world was complete.

My baby was healthy, but not happy... she was hungry. 

People make such a fuss about breastfeeding.  Although i ended up hating breastfeeding, those first few moments were the most natural thing in the world.  She was hungry and i had what she needed... and she knew exactly where it was.  The bond of those first few moments were priceless.  I loved holding her and her needing me.  

The hospital had a 48 hour policy with first time parents... and they really wanted to keep an eye on baby and i and my infection.  

It was really just a waiting game, but i was so tired and excited that those two days flew by.  I couldn't sleep because i just wanted to hold baby but i was tired i couldn't stay awake.  my schedule was all jacked up and i didn't care. 

My temperature dropped. Patricks brother and his family came to visit.  someone from his work stopped by.  We changed diapers and ate hospital food... though those first few days i really couldn't eat much. 

After the first day they took my catheter out and i started wobbling around a little. 

We got scolded multiple times for dozing off with baby on our chests.  

At one point, she went 6 hours without eating and one of the nurses told us we need to pump or formula feed... i told her to stuff it somewhere else. 

She only lost a couple ounces the first couple days and when we rounded the end of 48 hours, her results came back that she did not contract my infection and we were good to go home.  We had to attend a really stupid parenting class where they told me i need to feed her and then told me i needed to close the door to feed her..  Needless to say i was ready to blow that popsicle stand and was glad to get home.  

I still can't believe its already been two months.  It seems ages ago and there are so many stories i want to pack in...  

My parents have come to visit twice.  

The first time wasn't so great.  I was sore from my c-section but still stubborn and flipped a boat when my mother tried to tell me i couldn't vacume.. but it was nice to have them there to cook and hold her.  she has been an easy baby, but it was so nice for them to hold her.  

At one point, about day 2 home, i lost it when i couldn't get in bed by myself.  I was so upset and helpless... but my awesome husband wasn't about to give up on me and waited patiently on me.  

He also kept her the first week home... He would stay up all night because a) he was scared she would stop breathing or something and b) he wanted me to sleep.. thank GOD!

Overall, i hated the pregnancy, but the birth wasn't as bad as i expected and parenting is way easier than i prepared myself for. 

There are a million stories and i could def make up some advice for you if you really wanted.

In reality:  There is no rule book, no right or wrong.  Everyone is different, every experience is different.  

This is my story.

Loveheartsduh.

Beemo

The survival of my pregnancy, birth, and parenthood.

Here is the story of my First child....

It all started...... well we will skip that part. We all know how it started.

After conception,  i spent an entire week wondering, feeling tired and achy.  I took the test only for the positive sign to remain absent.  

No big deal, we weren't rushing or stressing or anything else.

A week later, i was still exaughsted.  I was still achy.   I was going to wait another month to take the test but my husband thought differently.  So off to the bathroom i went.  I peed. I paused. I checked.  Still no positive results.  I showed the results to my husband only to receive his critique that i hadn't waited long enough.  We started the timer and waited out the 3.4 min.  When the timer went off, we went to watch TV.  I'm just kidding.  When the timer went off we eagerly flew to the test. lol.  At first, i was like "i told you so baby" only to realize there was a faint, VERY faint line.  It was barely there, but it was there.  I was exactly 3 weeks pregnant.  December 17th the Dr's test came back showing me PREGNANT.... but of course we already knew that.  I just wanted to make sure you got the point... That i was pregnant.  

I want to make it clear because the next 3 months, everyone tried to tell me that my symptoms were in my head.... that I wasn't really tired.  I wasn't actually moody.  My bloat had to also be in my brain.  

It only lasted about 3 months because after that i got pissed at all the rude customers and quit.  I should have quit sooner, but i'm tough and don't quit...  until i couldn't handle it an quit : ) 

I was pregnant an entire 37 weeks and all but 3 of those were the most miserable weeks of my life.  Some people love being pregnant.  I am not one of those people.  I hated the cravings.  I hated not being able to do new things or be crazy active.  I hated not being able to have a beer without worry about the alcohol content.  I hated none of my clothes fitting and the weight that i gained.  I hated my boobs.  so overall,  I did NOT enjoy being pregnant.  

By the time 36 weeks hit, i KNEW i was not going to make it to 40.  My body did not like being pregnant.  

Our anniversary was 36weeks6days.  We celebrated like any married couple ; ) 

Except the clean up was not as smooth as normal.  We had fluid for days... LITERALLY.  By the time  time noon hit, i was starting to think it was my water.  By the time 2 Pm hit, I Knew it was my water.

I held off going to the hospital because i still wasn't really sure it was my water.  

Monday, i woke up tired of cleaning up the flow that had become more and more constant.  To the hospital i went.  

I spent three hours waiting for the Dr.  She finally made it to my room to check my fluid.  There wasn't much fluid for her to test, but when she found some, it tested neg for amniotic fluid.  The computer showed i was having regular contractions so she did an ultra sound.  Everything was good, my fluid was actually a lot higher than necessary, i wasn't dilated,  and i was sent home.   Are you surprised?  I wasn't but i was frustrated.

That frustration only escalated as my "leaking" got stronger.  I couldn't stand up.  There was no point in getting dressed.  I was sitting in what, i had concluded, was the result of a failing bladder.

I spent a second night of changing towels and doing my best from making too much of a mess.  I was also fighting embarrassment.  Here i was, a grown adult, and the only answer was that i had lost complete control of my bladder.  But There was nothing i could do about it and i was not about to be embarrassed by something pregnancy was causing.

Tuesday rolled around and i was to the point of complete sanity loss.  I had an apt with my attorney (stupid landlord issues) and i was determined to make my apt.  When my husband made it home for lunch, he had other ideas.  Off to the hospital we went.. again.  I was determined that if i was going to spend another day in the hospital, i wasn't leaving with out some sort of answer.  So we waited. and waited.. and waited.  We had a different doctor but she eventually found time between deliveries to stop by our room.  She started with the same pattern as the previous doctor.  She was going to test the fluid.  She started out with the same issue... there wasn't any fluid for her to swab.  I was dialed to 1/2 but no fluid.... Until she was almost done.  She managed to get just a drip.  That drip was the solution.  It was amniotic fluid.  

I was being admitted.   55 hours with a broken water, in labor, and i was FINALLY being admitted.  It had began. 

I couldn't use the labor tub due to infection risk but they eventually got me set up.  

For those of you who don't know, 55 hours is a LONG time and super dangerous.  The longer a water is broke the higher risk of infection and they were watching me like a hawk.  

They got me started on pitocin to "induce" labor.  

A couple hours later:  I still wasn't feeling the contractions but i was dilating.. slowly, but surely.

A couple more hours and i had dialed to a 3 and i was starting to feel the contractions.  

They put in a catheter to check the contraction more accurately.  That catheter put me over the edge.  I was READY for an epidural.   There was no point in holding off if i couldn't do an underwater birth, contractions were only going to get worse, and i was dilating slowly enough that i was starting to picture a c-section. 

The worse part about the epidural:  Having to sit still during a contraction.

They did get the epidural in and it was amazing.  It was beautiful.  I should have gotten it before the catheter.  

We went back to waiting.  I finally hit the 4 cm dilation mark but my temperature was 104.2 and baby was starting to get wacky. 

At one point, i was half awake/half asleep, when the nurse came in to check and couldn't recognize baby's heart rate.  She called in other nurses, they had to all flip me over (i couldn't move due to the epidural) and i was panicking.  They turned the pitocin off, brought out an oxygen mask, called in another DR, and pulled out the ultrasound machine.  They stuck me a shot of who knows what and I had already hit full panic mode.  Patrick woke up and was doing everything in his power to keep me from passing out.  I still cry thinking about the fear in my veins.  Just as they were pulling in another bed, they found baby girl's heart beat.  

It wasn't long after that, i had been dilated to 4 for 4 hours.  I was no longer on the pitocin.  I had been in active labor for a total of 12 hours. The nurse was checking my contraction and i told her that if i didn't make progress soon i was going to have discuss a c-section with the Dr.  

Less than 5 min later, the nurse hadn't even left the room yet, and the Dr came in to tell me my temperature was concerning, baby was concerning, and she thought we needed to consider other routes because they really needed to get baby out.  Since i had just been talking about it, i of course agreed. 

Everything after that point was a blur.

Less than 5 min and the anestitian was in there going over processes.  Less than half an hour and Patrick was taken to a room to get scrubs on and i was being wheeled to surgery. 

I remember, at some point i was freaking out without patrick.  I cried because i was scared. I cried because i was excited.  I cried because i wanted my husband.

I was strapped to a table and a tent set up in front of me.

The anastian began pumping me with fluid.  Testing every couple min for feeling.

I heard the doctor call for the incision to be made and panic began to set in again.  Patrick wasn't in there yet and i could NOT do this without him.  They went to get him and it was utter relief to see him walk in. 

I cried.  Everyone asked if it hurt.  I explained i was excited.  I cried again.

I could feel them tugging.  I could feel my insides being moved around... all the advice people hand around, and NO ONE prepared me for the feeling of a c-section.  I could feel everything being moved around.  I could feel baby being pulled out. It was surreal.  Patrick was there talking me through it.

And then she coohed.  and i cried.  They took baby and Patrick to the warming table to get everything cut and cleaned.  

I was left cold and alone, with out baby, while they put everything back in and sewed me up.  The next few min were the loneliest moments of my entire life.  I wanted to see my baby.  I wanted to see my husband but i felt like everyone in the room had forgotten i was there, exposed on the hard table.

I realize this isn't exactly true as i had an entire team still working on putting me back together, but it's how i felt.  

My husband brought baby girl over to me for a moment before they took them up to the room and i was left even more alone as the sound of them left the room. 

Thank God the anestisian (still can't figure out how to spell that) was like an angel and knocked me out for the rest of it.  I don't remember the conversation or him doing it, but the next thing i remember is waking up in recovery confused and high.  I remember crying and laughing and though i can't remember what was said, i remember saying some really outlandish things to the guy taking my stats.  

Once i was coherent again, they took me up to the room where i could see my husband and baby.  I've never felt such a need for someone in my life as the moment i saw my husband and baby.  

I saw them and my world was complete.

That is the story of my pregnancy and Auna's birth (i'll conclude the hospital stay in the next post)

Loveheartsduh.

Sucked raw.

Auna Banana is 8 weeks.  I am officially done pumping.

I spent the first couple weeks breast feeding.  Then i switched to pumping so that daddy could help relieve some of the stress of feeding.
When i started pumping, my supply dropped dramatically.
We started formula and pumping 3-4 times a day.

EVERYONE has breastfeeding/pumping advice.  I listened to all of it.  We tried power pumping.  We tried drinking shit tons of water.  We tried a million different "solutions".
I went on Reglan and my supply sky rocketed.
The problem is, my production did not.  I had clogged ducts. I had engorgement.  I ended up with Mastitis.  We went on an antibiotic to help with the mastitis.
About the time the mastitis cleared up, i dropped the reglan and dropped to pumping twice (sometimes three times) a day.

I was exaughsted and stressed.  I didn't feel attractive.  My leaky and tender boobs made me feel like a cow despite my drastic weight loss.

The solution?  I've stopped pumping.

I'm not giving up.  I'm not quitting because i'm out of solutions.  I'm done because it is time.
This morning, i laid in bed with my precious baby girl and cuddled.  I didn't have to rush to get up to pump.  Tonight, i'm going to make love to my awesome husband instead of pumping when i really don't want to.

I know i will continue to receive advice from everyone and anyone...  Mothers telling me that i need to drink mothers milk tea or "supportive" friends telling me i will regret it like they did and that i should just push through it.

Some people love breast feeding, but for us it just wasn't worth it.
The thing is, I feel good.  I love being able to relax instead of circling my entire schedule around pumping.  I love being able to write this blog without juggling plastic bottles suctioned to me like a milk cow.  I love not being covered in milk after getting out of the shower.  I love WANTING to hold my baby instead of dreading it.

There is so much pressure to "make breastfeeding work".  Everyone wants to be supportive so that women can be "successful" at it.  They make those that don't breastfeed feel pressured into something that is NOT best for them and their child.  My husband had to remind me that he supports the decisions i make even if others don't.  He has been there for this entire journey.  For those that don't have that support structure (and those that do too), check out this article, Stop breastfeeding without the guilt but Inspired Mama.  It was refreshing when i was trying to break the pressure and really didn't want to keep going.