First of all, I have to say "thank you" to Dakota for inviting me to post on her blog. It's been great fun getting insight from her on daily baby life, whether through talk or reading her blog. It truly helps to confer when you become a parent, especially to help keep your sanity - with not just your husband, but family and friends, too.
My baby, J, is 6 months old now, and since his birth I have just been in utter baby love. I never knew such a love. He was a surprise in every way - unplanned pregnancy and we didn't know that we were having a boy either. I like surprises as my hubs would say. My pregnancy was bliss, but my labor not so much. It was long, but I got through most of it without pain medication, which is what I wanted. After about 17 hours of hard labor with no change and just an hour and a half of sleep in 34 hours, we decided that I would get an epidural. Once I received the light epidural, my hubs and I got 2 hours of what felt like really deep sleep! Even better, once I woke up I was ready to go!! Then came our reason for living. We brought J home a day later and I just wanted to kiss him all over. Seriously, I wanted to kiss him non-stop. Perhaps, the overwhelming amount of hormones rising and falling in my body pursued me to want to make out with my son? This never-ending experience has made me feel so fortunate and I will continue to each and every day for our sweet boy.
J has been a pretty happy and mellow baby for us - easy to nurse and smiling early on - but when it comes to sleep he let us know early on what he wanted and that was to be walked and held to sleep. At about 3 months he soothed himself to sleep a few times in his crib, and had also been sleeping up to 9 hours at night, which was fabulous of course. Then that bubble burst and he was waking up 2-4 times a night screaming out of hunger. It wasn't until his 4 month well visit that we found out he grew 3 inches in length in 7 weeks. That was a vaild enough reason for me!
As parents, my hubs and I knew that we wanted to keep doing the things that we loved pre-baby, so we did and are continuing to do so. When J was 3 months old we started to do some small travels, like overnights not too many hours a way. We even took him to his first concert when he was just under 4 months, which was fortunately an accoustic show, and he wore sound-out headphones. He was amazing throughout and just slept as I carried and swayed him in the Ergo - all amidst windy and rainy whether. He was such a sport for his mom and dad. And right after that we did our first camping trip as a family - pretty much where it all began as it was the place where hubs and I got engaged. It was extra special because the campground had just reopened after a big fire 2 years prior.
The second bubble burst a little while after his first big growth spurt. He was indulging in longer night sleeps, until the week of Thanksgiving. I drove J, my dog, and I (poor hubs had to work) to Southern CA to my parents for the night before driving to Arizona to see J's great grandmother for the week. Driving what normally is 3 1/2 hours ended up being 7 hours for nursing stops and J was just plain lonely in the back seat when our dog wasn't standing up to look at him. That night was the first of many more disrupted sleeps, and driving to Arizona the next day was an even longer haul. So, for the past 2 months J has been waking up several times a night to nurse and be held. I thought it was all from travel and that this was the forefront to getting stuck in a rut that could possibly last 10 years (believe me, I am kidding!), but at his last well visit he did have another growth spurt - his head! Yaaa, for his growing brain! I am not worried about his constant night waking, though, and just keep telling myself that I will one day get a full night's sleep. So what if I am half awake when we are having productive bonding and nurturing time! I will miss it someday because they really do grow fast. And I now understand why my dad always told me, "Don't grow up. Stay how you are now," when I was little. I truly want J to stay a baby and in my arms forever. Then again, I miss having more than a glass of wine, and getting up and go for selfish reasons. So perhaps he can stay a baby 6 days a week and then give me one day to not have any responsibilities. If only we could pick and choose in our lives. But he is forever my little boy and I don't want to miss one second of him either.
Showing posts with label labor. Show all posts
Showing posts with label labor. Show all posts
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
Friday, October 1, 2010
Afterbirth
So much changes after your baby is born; a drastic hormone shift occurs, your body shrinks and suddenly feels empty, you face the needs of a person who depends on you completely. All of those changes bring about their own set of challenges and rewards. My experience was exaggerated by having my son taken from me in the hours after his birth with his subsequent admission to the NICU. Just as nothing can fully prepare you for becoming a parent, nothing can prepare you to be separated from your child and having to observe him hooked up to oxygen, monitor wires and IVs. You just have to get through it, and you do.
When MLO was admitted I was in the baby and mother ward while Hubby was with MLO. I had no idea what was going on for a good 30-40 minutes before a nurse came in and told me that they had admitted my son and were running tests. I was very brave. I didn't cry, I asked the questions that satisfied my need to understand and I rationalized that my son was going to be fine, just as the nurse said, but that he needed a little extra care. I kept my brave face until, exhausted and with the shock of having labored and delivered wearing off, I was wheeled up to the NICU to see my son for the first time since he had been taken from me. When I laid eyes on him I lost it. I couldn't touch him, he was hooked up to several monitors, fluid bags and an oxygen machine. He looked so tiny and helpless and the only things I could do, provide for his nutrition and comfort, I couldn't do. He was receiving nutrients through an IV and I wasn't allowed to hold him. I felt powerless, unnecessary and heartbroken. I wanted to stay with him, but I knew I was worthless with exhaustion and sorrow. Hubby wheeled me back to my room. It rained that night and for days after.
The next day we made our way to the NICU. I was still too weak and anemic to make the walk so Hubby wheeled me down. This time I was allowed to hold MLO and they told me it was ok to try to nurse him. We had a hard time, as MLO was getting most of the nutrients he needed from the IV and was so apparently comforted to be close to me that he just fell asleep. This was the first of the challenges that led to my biggest post-partum frustration: everyone knew more than I did. I had at least two different lactation consultants giving me advice along with the NICU nurses and the physician. Having all of those experts sharing their opinion overshadowed my experience and essentially made me feel worthless and stupid. In hindsight I recognize that I let it bother me more than it should have, but I was hardly myself and I was losing the experience of learning on my own to the differing advice and opinions of experts. Frankly, I had a hard time keeping it together. I just wanted to cry. Hubby and I took turns holding our little fella and then he wheeled me back to my room for lunch.
Later that day I had a psychiatrist visit as is required for all moms with babies in the NICU. She asked the usual questions, "Do you use drugs? Does your spouse abuse you?". She tried to get me to talk about my feelings regarding my son's admission but the whole thing was forced and I just wasn't comfortable with her. I basically just tried to get rid of her. Once she was gone and Hubby was back I felt much better. Hubby could always calm my nerves and set things right. During labor and in the days after MLO was born I realized how profoundly lucky I was to have my Hubby. Through the challenges of the labor and an admitted baby Hubby and I acted as one and even at my weakest he gave me strength. I didn't think I could love him more, but after all that, I did.
In a hospital setting like that there are so many different people giving you advice and guidance. The bombardment is overwhelming and sometimes conflicting. We had the breastfeeding consultants telling us one thing, then when we discussed this with our NICU nurse she seemed to get upset and imply we were doing it wrong. I can't express how difficult that is for a new mom to hear. Not only are you new at this incredibly important job, but you have limited contact with the baby you have been longing to meet for 9 months and you just want to do it right. Those feelings compounded into a lingering sense of ineptitude.
On the last day of my stay in the hospital all of this came to a head. Everyone was telling me how to do my job, some opinions differed from others and all I wanted was some relaxed, private time with my newborn. I generally felt like I just couldn't do anything right, and compared to these experts, I couldn't. On top of all that floated this cloud of guilt I felt about leaving my baby in the hospital and moving home. I had finally reached the end of my rope and needed to get away from the hospital. As I left the NICU I ran into the therapist and she took my arm and said in this over sympathetic tone, "You look sad." I wanted to yell at her, "Of course I'm sad! I'm leaving my newborn child in the care of strangers and going home! I can't seem to nurse him right! My milk won't come in! Everyone is telling me what to do! Are you kidding?" But all I said was, "I'm just really overwhelmed, and I need to go home" and I turned and walked away.
Once I got home I started to relax and recover. I regained my sanity and cried less when I went to the hospital. Hubby and I essentially took shifts at the NICU until he had to go back to work, then I split my days between bed and the NICU. MLO was recovering well and we were getting better at nursing. I got to enjoy just holding him and when something unexpected happened I had a whole cadre of experts to tell me not to worry about it. I started to reap the benefits of all that knowledge and desire to help. Concurrently the weather began to warm and the sun broke through the clouds.
On the day MLO was discharged the sun was shining. He had a flawless check up with the physician and was given the greenlight to go home. We packed him up and into the car seat. On the way home he slept peacefully. As I stared through the car windows I noticed that the whole world was fresh and bright. The hills were a brilliant green and the sky clear and blue. The beauty of it dazzled me. All the cars seemed to move so fast, I was taken aback by how hurried everything was. I felt content to take our time, our family complete, peacefully travelling home. I mentioned this to Hubby and he agreed. We were both just so happy. The world had never seemed so rich and beautiful to us as it did on the day we brought MLO home, and our lives have been enriched beyond description since.
So maybe all that sorrow and frustration helped us realize how incredibly lucky we were to simply drive home with our kidlet. It certainly made us stronger and in the face of all that doubt I have turned out to be as good a mom as ever I hoped (for now). At least I feel confident that I do right by my son. So yes, there are challenges but the rewards are beyond measure. As Richard Bach said, "There is no such thing as a problem without a gift for you in it's hands. You seek problems because you need their gifts."
When MLO was admitted I was in the baby and mother ward while Hubby was with MLO. I had no idea what was going on for a good 30-40 minutes before a nurse came in and told me that they had admitted my son and were running tests. I was very brave. I didn't cry, I asked the questions that satisfied my need to understand and I rationalized that my son was going to be fine, just as the nurse said, but that he needed a little extra care. I kept my brave face until, exhausted and with the shock of having labored and delivered wearing off, I was wheeled up to the NICU to see my son for the first time since he had been taken from me. When I laid eyes on him I lost it. I couldn't touch him, he was hooked up to several monitors, fluid bags and an oxygen machine. He looked so tiny and helpless and the only things I could do, provide for his nutrition and comfort, I couldn't do. He was receiving nutrients through an IV and I wasn't allowed to hold him. I felt powerless, unnecessary and heartbroken. I wanted to stay with him, but I knew I was worthless with exhaustion and sorrow. Hubby wheeled me back to my room. It rained that night and for days after.
The next day we made our way to the NICU. I was still too weak and anemic to make the walk so Hubby wheeled me down. This time I was allowed to hold MLO and they told me it was ok to try to nurse him. We had a hard time, as MLO was getting most of the nutrients he needed from the IV and was so apparently comforted to be close to me that he just fell asleep. This was the first of the challenges that led to my biggest post-partum frustration: everyone knew more than I did. I had at least two different lactation consultants giving me advice along with the NICU nurses and the physician. Having all of those experts sharing their opinion overshadowed my experience and essentially made me feel worthless and stupid. In hindsight I recognize that I let it bother me more than it should have, but I was hardly myself and I was losing the experience of learning on my own to the differing advice and opinions of experts. Frankly, I had a hard time keeping it together. I just wanted to cry. Hubby and I took turns holding our little fella and then he wheeled me back to my room for lunch.
Later that day I had a psychiatrist visit as is required for all moms with babies in the NICU. She asked the usual questions, "Do you use drugs? Does your spouse abuse you?". She tried to get me to talk about my feelings regarding my son's admission but the whole thing was forced and I just wasn't comfortable with her. I basically just tried to get rid of her. Once she was gone and Hubby was back I felt much better. Hubby could always calm my nerves and set things right. During labor and in the days after MLO was born I realized how profoundly lucky I was to have my Hubby. Through the challenges of the labor and an admitted baby Hubby and I acted as one and even at my weakest he gave me strength. I didn't think I could love him more, but after all that, I did.
In a hospital setting like that there are so many different people giving you advice and guidance. The bombardment is overwhelming and sometimes conflicting. We had the breastfeeding consultants telling us one thing, then when we discussed this with our NICU nurse she seemed to get upset and imply we were doing it wrong. I can't express how difficult that is for a new mom to hear. Not only are you new at this incredibly important job, but you have limited contact with the baby you have been longing to meet for 9 months and you just want to do it right. Those feelings compounded into a lingering sense of ineptitude.
On the last day of my stay in the hospital all of this came to a head. Everyone was telling me how to do my job, some opinions differed from others and all I wanted was some relaxed, private time with my newborn. I generally felt like I just couldn't do anything right, and compared to these experts, I couldn't. On top of all that floated this cloud of guilt I felt about leaving my baby in the hospital and moving home. I had finally reached the end of my rope and needed to get away from the hospital. As I left the NICU I ran into the therapist and she took my arm and said in this over sympathetic tone, "You look sad." I wanted to yell at her, "Of course I'm sad! I'm leaving my newborn child in the care of strangers and going home! I can't seem to nurse him right! My milk won't come in! Everyone is telling me what to do! Are you kidding?" But all I said was, "I'm just really overwhelmed, and I need to go home" and I turned and walked away.
Once I got home I started to relax and recover. I regained my sanity and cried less when I went to the hospital. Hubby and I essentially took shifts at the NICU until he had to go back to work, then I split my days between bed and the NICU. MLO was recovering well and we were getting better at nursing. I got to enjoy just holding him and when something unexpected happened I had a whole cadre of experts to tell me not to worry about it. I started to reap the benefits of all that knowledge and desire to help. Concurrently the weather began to warm and the sun broke through the clouds.
On the day MLO was discharged the sun was shining. He had a flawless check up with the physician and was given the greenlight to go home. We packed him up and into the car seat. On the way home he slept peacefully. As I stared through the car windows I noticed that the whole world was fresh and bright. The hills were a brilliant green and the sky clear and blue. The beauty of it dazzled me. All the cars seemed to move so fast, I was taken aback by how hurried everything was. I felt content to take our time, our family complete, peacefully travelling home. I mentioned this to Hubby and he agreed. We were both just so happy. The world had never seemed so rich and beautiful to us as it did on the day we brought MLO home, and our lives have been enriched beyond description since.
So maybe all that sorrow and frustration helped us realize how incredibly lucky we were to simply drive home with our kidlet. It certainly made us stronger and in the face of all that doubt I have turned out to be as good a mom as ever I hoped (for now). At least I feel confident that I do right by my son. So yes, there are challenges but the rewards are beyond measure. As Richard Bach said, "There is no such thing as a problem without a gift for you in it's hands. You seek problems because you need their gifts."
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