Month: August 2019

Grace Marie

Published on by Shan

I woke up Friday the 17th after a long night of little sleep. I was feeling pretty uncomfortable at this point (read, past your due date and ready for you to join us) so I made sure to take a nice long hot shower and took my time getting ready for the day. I had a few errands I needed to run that morning, including picking up cigars for daddy, your uncles and your papa to celebrate your arrival. You loved it when I ate bagels so I stopped by Noah’s bagels for a late breakfast snack. Then went home to get daddy for our appointment.

This is how many pillows I slept with at night during pregnancy!

There was a little bit of time before my NST appointment so your daddy and I laid in bed and chatted about how we were experiencing our last days as just the two of us. How one of these drives would be our last time leaving the house as just us, and we’d come home with you in tow. Just in case, we loaded a bag into the car and headed off to our appointment.

After getting hooked up to everything they confirmed you were still head down, “really low” and looking good. My BP had been giving us a lot of trouble the entire pregnancy but it was REALLY high, even for me. So we did the normal song and dance trying to see if we could get it to cooperate. It didn’t. Due to my readings they called over to Labor and Delivery. The midwife who was on (Deb) wanted me to come over to be monitored for a while. I went and started the process all over again. My BP was still high but then started to go down a little. I sent a text to your Nana and Papa to let them know that it was looking better and I would probably be getting discharged soon (I had checked in with them over at the appointment so they were waiting to hear an update). Just as I sent the message the doctors came in and explained that I wasn’t going home, in fact I had just earned myself an induction. My BP was too high, there was protein in my urine, the swelling was beyond out of control and they felt it was time.

As soon as I let it sink in I got nervous. This was it – you were coming! I naively tried to see if I could run home to do a few things, pack some more things I needed and then come back, the doctor just looked at me. “No, we need to start this now.” They wouldn’t even let me go back to the car to get the couple of things I had packed. While they administered my first round of misoprostol daddy moved the car and brought up the bag. They moved me into our room (#206) right outside the nurses station. After my first cervical check we found out I was closed, tight. Not what you want to hear when you’re starting an induction. I called Nana and Papa back and let them know that we were staying. We called Auntie + Pap to let them know as well. They started an IV, which was difficult due to the swelling so after multiple tries it ended up being on my left wrist (OUCH) and got everything sorted. Because of the medication they were using I was stuck in bed for an hour while they monitored our vitals. I sent daddy home to get the things we still needed and grab some lunch. When he came back Pap came with him to help bring up the stuff and visit for a bit. We told him we would call when things picked up. I was finally able to get up and walk around a bit. I found my favorite thing to do was to sit on my birthing ball where I had all but lived on at home during the end of pregnancy. I would alternate between walking and the ball until I had to get back in bed for more monitoring (this happened every time I received a dose of miso). Deb came by and told me her shift was over, and since she wasn’t working again until Sunday she probably wouldn’t see me! I mean, obviously I would have had the baby before then. She wished me luck and handed me off to the midwife on. Uncle Mikey came by and walked the halls with me for a long time just trying to get something going. Lap after lap after lap, we walked. Then he grabbed our house key and left to go stay with Pickle. We kept walking, monitoring, birthing ball, then walking more. I was so proud of myself because I wasn’t being one of “those” impatient first time moms. I thought I would just take it easy and even rest that night. . .

These were some of the last bump photos I got before induction.

Nana and Papa stopped by around 10pm. I was in bed doing some more monitoring when they came by, so Nana went to the nurses station to give them some Rice Krispy treats she had made for them (take care of those nurses!). Papa told us about a new house he had bought and turned into an office. After a short visit they left and back we went to walking the halls. Around midnight I received another dose of miso and we decided we should just get some rest. It didn’t last long. Around 2:45am on Saturday morning the contractions were about 3 minutes apart and I was feeling them enough to where I couldn’t get comfortable. We started Pitocin. I had your daddy using tennis balls on my back and was using all kinds of hot rice socks trying to work through the contractions. I was checked early in the morning and I was 1cm dilated. Not what you want to hear when you’re experiencing Pitocin contractions 2-3 min apart and you’d started this process the day before. I felt so defeated that I wasn’t further along. I wasn’t coping at all. After trying Fentanyl with no success and struggling to get a break the nurses told me they’d be willing to get me an early epidural.

Hallelujah! I finally got some relief and was able to rest. Around 3pm (SAT) they checked me again to see how my body was progressing and I was still 1cm (90% effaced/-1 station) so we moved on to a cervical bulb hoping that would help me dilate. If it worked it would fall out, and if after 12 hours it didn’t they would remove it. At this point my epidural was still working well enough to where I could sleep. Granny, Papa, Auntie, Uncle Mikey, Nana and Papa visited throughout the afternoon. We chatted, laughed and had such a nice time together. Daddy and Papa went and grabbed dinner at some point so daddy could get out of the hospital for a bit. I had been on pitocin from the wee hours of the morning but was doing fine with my epidural. The nurses kept upping my levels of pitocin and eventually reached a max dosage. They turned off the pitcoin for awhile before starting all over again. I remember that day being nice and even fun. I was mentally doing fine with the fact that I was heading into day 3 and still hadn’t delivered. I called LouLa around 1am to chat because I couldn’t sleep and I knew she would be up at that time. I needed some form of a distraction from how uncomfortable I was. 3AM (SUN) came and the bulb hadn’t fallen out so it was removed. They checked to see what 24 hours of pit + the bulb had done and I was at a grand 2.5cm/fully effaced and -3 station. Not my favorite update, but at least I was finally past a one. Around 4:45am my water broke. We were all excited thinking we were FINALLY getting this party started! I called your Nana and Papa to let them know that things were finally moving and that they could come whenever. At 8:05am the rest of my water broke and it was EVERYWHERE. Your daddy could tell you, it was just like in the movies. As soon as that happened the pressure/pain changed, and unfortunately my epidural had worn off and wasn’t working very well.

After working all day Saturday the epidural was no longer working and even a bolus didn’t help. Labor was intense, and I was going in and out of sleep in between contractions. I would wake up to them coming on and it was pretty much the worst thing ever. There were some issues that arose including a fever and needing oxygen. I didn’t want anyone touching me at all. Every time someone touched me or knocked against the bed it pulled me away from concentrating and attempting to deal with the contraction I was experiencing. I wanted it quiet. I was being loud enough for everyone on the floor and couldn’t even focus enough to answer questions anyone was asking. We kicked Papa out of the room because I was overheating and needed to get rid of the blankets and eventually my gown (gasp! laboring patients might labor naked!) which was hilarious timing as it was shift change and the nurses came in to give report LOL

At 2pm I was F I N A L L Y completely dilated! I labored down for an hour. Then it was time to push. Guess who was back on shift at this point?! Deb. At this point I was exhausted and so done. Push after push after push and you weren’t ready. Daddy, Deb and Nana all stayed with me, encouraging and supporting me. I remember when I could hear the tone in daddys voice change. I knew that he meant it when he said, “You’re almost there!!!” They could see your hair and it was time. I gave it my all and after just shy of two hours of pushing and days of waiting you were born.

You had your umbilical cord wrapped around your neck 2x as well as around your arm. You weren’t breathing so they took you away from me before I could even look at you, count your toes or tell you I was your Mama. I sent Daddy to stand next to you while the nurses helped you out. While Deb helped me they helped you. I asked daddy to tell me something, anything because the quiet was driving me crazy. The first thing he said was “He looks like Michael. . .” and I’m not sure if it was the funny way he said it or if I was just crazy at that point but I laughed. After that you let out a beautiful loud wail. When you were stable the nurses handed you to me and finally I got to see your beautiful, perfect little face. I loved you before I even knew you, Grace Marie. You were everything I had been waiting for and more.

It was a traumatic experience for me and it’s taken me until your fifth birthday to finally get this out. It’s funny how now the whole experience is a foggy and distant memory, but certain things like waking up to contractions, or that intense right hip pain I get in transition stick out. Because of certain complications during labor we both had to stay in the hospital for a few days. Family and friends came to visit and meet you. We had the best post care and the sweetest nurses ever. I can’t remember life before you and I am so grateful you chose me to be your mama.

I love you baby girl.

Lets talk about it

Published on by Shan

Can we take a break from cute babies, drool worthy food, gym selfies, perfectly decorated homes, the trendiest “it” item, duck lips etc to talk about something S U P E R important to me, maybe even you or someone that you love? 

Postpartum. Maybe you have been there. Maybe someone close to you has. We don’t talk about it. Sure, in passing we joke about how we look like a raccoon. Queue jokes about the bags under our eyes. How the midnight hour looks a lot different than it did in our twenties. #allthecoffee and wine memes are life to us. BUT. Can we, just for a minute strip all that down and put it to the side? Can we go to our postpartum journey, whether you’re there right now, just got out of it, it’s ahead in the distance or it’s been so long you’re like, “posta huh?” 

Can we talk about the weird things we obsess on? The delusional conversations where someone has to repeat the same thing 10x because we just can’t focus. The unexplained anger. Anger towards some of the closest people to us. The resentment and bitterness. The tears. Don’t even get me started about the tears . . . or do. Because we SHOULD be talking about the tears.

The mesh underwear is lovely and all and it’s cute to joke about it but what happens AFTER the mesh panties? That’s what I want to talk about, because we don’t talk about it enough. Why don’t we talk about how some nights you stay up all night and can’t sleep? Sometimes you find yourself doing something that resembles a hyena – where you find yourself crying and laughing at the same time? I was just talking with a fellow mama who said she didn’t even know it was possible to cry and laugh at the same time. But it is. Let’s talk about how sometimes you don’t shower, eat or do anything that resembles normal self care. Does this sound familiar? Did you know it’s possible to want something so so bad and still be incredibly sad after you have it? To feel so isolated. Lonely. To feel like you’ve lost all control. To feel worthless. Is this striking a chord at all?

Then there’s the anxiety. I had heard of PPD (post-partum-depression) but I hadn’t heard of PPA (post-partum-anxiety). Or maybe I had heard of it? Maybe some sweet mama I knew had it but I just wasn’t looking or paying enough attention to see it. If there was such a mama, I’m here to say I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t see what you were going through. I now understand. After I had my second daughter Nora I had postpartum anxiety, bad. Like “almost pulled over on the side of the freeway, called my husband to leave work and save us because I couldn’t drive my babies to a play date” bad. Like heard things that made me swear someone was trying to break into my house, every.single.night.bad. Thinking they were coming to kill us all bad. Fully understanding the phrase “paralyzed with fear” bad. Be SO angry and resentful, and while it felt justified somewhere in the back of my head I knew it wasn’t rational at all. After suffering daily for 2+ years with it I started trying to find resolve. Sometimes I hid it well. Some people had no idea, still have no idea. Others I couldn’t hide it from. One time a girlfriend was at my house in the evening when my husband was out of town and we lost power. I lost it. There was no hiding it then. We still talk about it and honestly, even then I’m not sure she could understand the full feeling. How that night I had 911 on my phone dialed, ready to call just in case.

I could tell you so many stories of how debilitating having PPA was. How it affected me every single day, for years. I could feel it happening and I knew that it wasn’t normal, but somewhere in my brain I rationalized it. After over a year of living with this I had an “enough” moment. A moment where I knew it wasn’t fair to my husband, my kids and mostly myself to live like this. I placed a call in to see someone. PPA changed me. It changed friendships. It changed my work presence. It changed my marriage. Recently my husband and I were talking about how it was after Nora was born. We talked about how reactive I was, to everything. Including his breathing. That’s right. One time I lost it on him, so angry, because of how he was breathing. Y’all, this is not normal. This is not necessary. This is not how it’s supposed to be. It doesn’t have to feel so crushing.

I’m happy to say I’ve worked my way out of that part of my life and after everything we went through prior to getting pregnant with cricket I made sure to have a very real and honest discussion with my midwife about how I was feeling. How I felt like the health system fails mamas with their ridiculous questionnaires full of “are you tired” type of questions. Am I tired? Why yes I am. I’m exhausted. I haven’t slept in months. That’s a fact. That also doesn’t mean something isn’t wrong. It doesn’t mean something is either. We need to do more. No one should have to feel like they just need to suffer through. 

I started writing this in my head well before we had our little cricket girl, because I remember promising to myself that I wouldn’t go through it again without seeking help sooner. I figured the first step to that was writing about it. Then I thought about how many people would read this and think differently of me. Maybe they’d think, “that explains a lot . . .” I felt a lot of shame and embarrassment. There were some serious rough moments that happened in those years. Then I thought of myself 3 years ago, in the t h i c k of it. I thought of how much I needed someone who really understood. Someone who got it because they’d been there. So, putting aside how exposed this felt I decided to write about it. I am here to talk about it. Let’s talk about the tears. Lets talk about those ridiculous, but completely real fears. Let’s talk about how hard it is to force ourselves out of the house when we just want to stay home. Lets talk about how we drift apart from those we love and feel like we are looking in on and old life we don’t belong to anymore. Lets talk about postpartum.

6 week check up