I really need to get better about more regular posting, if for no other reason than to help keep track of and sort all the chaos in my head.
Flynn will be 5 months old next week.
Five. Months.
Didn't we just bring him home yesterday?
The 1st of May I went back to work and the night before I cried and cried. More like sobbed until I felt ill and then I barely slept. The next day I was much improved though still a little shaky around the edges, only shedding a few tears here and there. I already felt settled back into routine, for the most part, by the day after though a lingering hint of upset stomach has plagued me every single day since. Nothing can fix the fact that every fiber of my being screams over all of the time I'm missing with our son.
Now, that isn't to say Clif isn't doing a great job at being Mr. Mom, because he is, he is wonderful with Flynn, but getting to be a stay at home mom has been my dream for as long as I can remember. More than reaching some corporate goal, more than the type of house I'd one day own or ideas of the man I'd one day marry... staying home to raise our children has always been a constant wish for me. I've had to shelve that dream, however, in support of Clif building and owning his own company. It was, for all intents, an easy call to make: I love my husband and I will support him no matter what in any and every way I can, but I would be lying if I said it was without any remorse or wishing we could do things a little differently. As it stands it's my job (that I am beyond blessed to have and love) that brings a consistent paycheck that pays for our home and provides us with health insurance. I was very fortunate to have 3 months of paid maternity leave, that's a lot more than many people get, but having to return to work was much harder for me than I thought it would be. Again, I'm blessed to have and love this job, I just wish I could have and love it again when Flynn is ready to go to school...
My brain has been a tumultuous, chaotic cluster of emotion and confliction since coming home from the hospital as a family of three (6 if you count the furkids). I wake up in the morning when I hear Flynn starting to stir, change his diaper and nurse him in bed in the quiet gray post-dawn light, possibly my favorite part of the day. Then we settle back into bed so he can sleep for another couple of hours and I can catch a few more snoozing minutes before heading to work. When I get home in the afternoon I try to get a couple of things done as quickly as possible (put away the pumped milk, go to the bathroom, put on comfy clothes and loose the bra) while I still have two hands, hug and kiss Clif then snatch up that beautiful baby boy just as soon as I can where I will proceed to hold, kiss, cuddle, play with and feed him until he goes to bed a paltry 2 to maybe 4 hours later. It's just not enough.
It isn't easy, either, and while I never had any delusions having children would be easy I underestimated how difficult it would be to multitask or complete even the simplest of functions. A lot of that has to do with my desire to spend every uncluttered, uninterrupted second I can with Flynn. I hate to feel like I'm a flake, to have a never-ending list of things to do nagging in the back of my mind, to be wishy-washy on my ability to make plans and respond to communications in twice as much time as it should normally take. For the delay in my actions I am sorry but I will never apologize for my choice at making Flynn my absolute priority. In trying to cling to as much time as I can get hardly anything else gets done, which is stressful for me.
Internal conversation with Flynn: It will be great when you can sit up and entertain yourself for longer periods of time. But take your time! You're so sweet and little and wonderful just as you are this moment. Though, having a little more strength and independence isn't a bad thing, I might be able to get something else around this house done. Don't grow too fast, though! I want to savor each second with you and if that means the dishes pile up in the sink so I can snuggle your sweet cheeks then they can pile all the way to the moon. That makes it harder to cook and eat, though, and that is frustrating and stressful for me, not to mention all the other dozens of chores that need to get down around here. Think you could just hang out right over there with your toys for five, maybe ten minutes so we can have some dinner and vacuum? If you would rather nurse and snuggle instead that is fine! I totally can have dinner whenever you go to bed and at least we don't have to feed the dust bunnies... You are so beautiful to me, I could just sit here for ever and shower you with smiles and kisses, blissfully holding your tiny hand.
Since I mentioned it, let's talk about nursing...
I don't think I'll ever know for absolute certain the reason my production is so low and we are continuing to fight the hard fight but I am pretty sure at least a fair chunk of it happened from that whole allergy incident the day after he was born and I ended up in ICU without him to nurse or a breast pump for almost 24 hours was an event I just never fully recovered from. As a result nursing has been difficult. Flynn still refuses to nurse without use of a shield and not just with a "*sigh* Yeah, I guess I can try but I really prefer the device", he refuses with back arching, shoving, pouty-lipped, red-faced screams of rage. Seriously. If I get anywhere near him with a shieldless breast he thinks acts like I'm torturing him. Unfortunately he is not a fan of the nursing cover, either (I don't blame him, it's hot and uncomfortable!) but he can't have it both ways. If he insists on the shield I insist on the cover as there isn't any other way I can keep myself from flashing the entire world without it. I would LOVE to be able to nurse him unobtrusively wherever we happen to be without having to get out several pieces of equipment but that just isn't in the cards for us. Piled on top of the fact that during my work days I am only managing to pump maybe, MAYBE a single bottle's work of milk for him I've been starting to question my decision to continue to struggle.
Internal conversation with myself: This is so hard and frustrating and HOT and when he fights it you end up having to fight back tears and feelings of failure and wishes we could re-do that first stupid day. Why do you keep putting us through this? At least half, if not more, of his daily intake is formula anyway. But it's better for him! It's like liquid gold! Yes, it's got great things and you're an avid supporter of breastfeeding, but is it really worth all of the stress and anxiety? The hoops we have to jump through? It is when we don't have to worry about propriety. When it's just us and it works it's one of my absolute favorite moments. I never thought I'd say it but I LOVE nursing. It's only easy first thing in the morning and when you get home from work and even then you end up having to 'top him off' with formula because he isn't getting enough from you. By the way, that tiny bit you've been pumping? Every day there's a little bit less, no matter how many herb supplements you take and water you drink. You're drying up. But even if it's just a little bit or only 1-2 of his meals it is so worth it! It's worth the bonding and it's worth him getting every drop I can produce. For that benefit I'll keep fighting for it. I'm not ready to give up nursing him! It's bad enough I have to leave him 5 out of 7 days, I'm not ready to lose this, too. You may not want to lose it but your body has other plans and it is moving forward no matter how you feel about it.
Imagine, by the way, all these italicized bits as an endless stream of agonizing run-on sentences on repeat. Every day. All day. Like running to the end of a dangerously overstretched rubber band and snapping back only to run back the direction from which I'd just come. For every thought there is a visceral gut counter-thought which breeds yet another thought in opposition and back again and so on and so forth...
In the midst of this self-imposed prison of anxiety and discomfort I struggle with unbidden horrors that pop into my head, especially with the recent story of infants being left in the cars. I can't even with that. My sister shared a story years ago about that happening and they found the baby too late. He had ripped out all of his own hair... that story back then made my gut twist and I have as intense response to thinking about it now as I did when she first told me. It brings tears to my eyes every single time it invites itself into my head but now I think about that baby with Flynn's face. I can't help it. I can't stop it, though I wish I would. To cope I think how glad I am I have such a strong tool to help me remember to always check the car before I leave it. Beyond that particular event every story ever that has a child in it makes me think of Flynn and brings me to tears. It destroys me and all I want to do is pick him up, hold him tight and never let him go.
I'm mentally and emotionally exhausted. So far we've been getting good sleep (thanks be!) but to make up for not having as much physical exhaustion I have a lot of physical pain. My body between my jaw and my shoulder blades screams at me 24-7 for some kind of relief that I don't know how to give so I just soldier through and tune it out. Almost every movement hurts but I push it aside, I have more important things to do.
I don't think I need advice to fix these issues, though I am always glad for the support and ideas on how other people cope with similar issues, as much as I just need to purge all these things that are building up. I think back to a post I wrote not long before Flynn was born and how I was worried I wouldn't feel the intense love that so many mothers talk about feeling upon meeting their child for the first time and laugh because I feel it, man. I feel that all-consuming love so much sometimes I wish it would ease up, just ever so slightly, and just for a moment or two to let me catch my breath.
(left as written, unedited in its rambling, crazy presentation because that is where I am.)
Friday, June 27, 2014
Friday, May 30, 2014
Baby Musts
*please note that I am new at this mom-thing and desire to not sound too much like I know everything about children without fully admitting I don't know everything about children and that all children, parents, play methods and parenting techniques are different and unique to each family.
First, a more substantial update post is forthcoming, as soon as I can find my brain... second, I use the term "must" loosely. I feel we are fortunate to have our baby in a time where pretty much anything and everything anyone could possibly imagine (gear,clothes, toys, information...) is at our disposal to assist in raising a child. I've heard, and appreciate, the comment "we didn't have that back then" regarding multiple items Clif and I use without a second thought. We. Are. Lucky. That said, I wanted to share my thoughts on baby items that have come, and will probably be coming, into our house.
To summarize my philosophy on baby things: children have been raised just fine since the dawn of time WITHOUT all the gadgets out there now. Can they help and/or streamline the process? Some do, some may not. Are they nice to have? Sure. Is having one of each and every new item out there necessary to succeed? No way! Our parents brought us up beautifully with a fraction of the tools available to us now and I have every confidence I could do the same, even if with not as much grace. I haven't made that some kind of personal goal, to martyr through child rearing, but it has helped color my perspective on the things we registered and buy for Flynn.
When selecting items to put on our baby registry and shopping lists going forward, there are a few criteria I'd like each item to have at least one of:
1) Gender Neutrality - who knows what baby number two (maybe even three?) will be, I want to get as much use out of our gifts and purchases as possible. Our nursery, for example, will be just as great for a girl as it is for our boy.
2) Small foot print - toys that can't be packed away in bins or that take up half of the living room space are going to be sparse in our already-bursting house. We have gear, LOTS of gear, to support Clif's business and I often feel like I'm drowning in stuff, so I want to limit the amount of additional stuff we probably don't even need, especially if it's huge.
3) Multiple uses - also see item 2, I don't have space for one-trick ponies.
4) How many batteries does it take, sounds does it make, does it enhance or hinder my child's will to exercise his own imagination.
With all that in mind, here are some items that I would fight someone for and the reasons why:
My Breast Friend Nursing Pillow - I admit it, when my sister started RAVING about this thing and INSISTING life would never be the same if I didn't have one and we wished she could have a do-over with her first two girls just so she could use this pillow, I kind of rolled my eyes a little bit. NOW I GET IT! It buckles on, no having to worry about or expend energy keeping it close and secure, I can walk around with it held in place (nursing on the move!), it's easier to transfer Flynn if he falls asleep, we play on it, I lean on it when playing with him on the floor, he props on it during tummy time... I registered for a Boppy because they have cute patterns and I'd always heard how great they were. I don't miss not having one. At all. Anything I could do with a Boppy I can do with My Breast Friend and half of them I can do even BETTER. Seriously. Get one. Get one for every mother of a wee one you know!
Co-Sleeper - This one was on the registry then vetoed because Clif was not so hot on the co-sleeping idea. I ended up making a snap decision to buy it myself several weeks after Flynn was born and it has become one of the most frequently used items we have. Flynn sleeps in a bassinet next to the bed during the night, but when I get up early in the morning to feed him he goes back to sleep in the sleeper between us in bed so one, the other, or both of us get some extra time to sleep in that feels like snuggle time. It is easier to soothe him back to sleep, re-pacify him if he spits it out and it's awesome for waking up slowly with some quiet play in the mornings. We use it all around the house and even more so when we travel (it's easier to carry than the Pack n Play!). I toss it in the car when I go out late or long enough to threaten Flynn's bed time and might need to whip out a nap station in a quiet corner and on weekend overnight trips. It folds in half for easy carrying, is really light weight, doesn't take up a lot of space and lets us provide a place to Flynn to nap on the go without leaving him in his car seat. Flynn has fallen asleep on the couch in the living room and I carry him in it, like a giant pizza box, to the bedroom for the night without disturbing him. I have the one linked and am loving it, but I am considering getting this one so we can use it a little longer (time in relation to his length).
Pack n Play - When we first brought Flynn home I was worried that getting a brand new one for the house when we already had one stashed and ready to use at the family weekend home might have been superfluous. Instead we ended up putting it in the living room (mainly because I hated the idea of Flynn sitting alone, staring at the ceiling in our bedroom and missed having him close to me) and it's, at least for now, a permanent fixture. He naps in it, plays in it, I sometimes change him in it and it's a great catch-all for the toys, blankets and shenanigans that start to take over the living room. I also keep the play mat in it so I don't have to set it up and tear it down all the time, it fits perfectly and doesn't take up a second foot print of space.
Bouncy Swing - It has a small, compact foot print and two functions: a swing when in the base and a bouncy seat when it stands alone. It has a belt and handle so I can carry Flynn around the house in it, particularly nice when we bring him to the dinning room to join us for dinner or when I'm going to take him in the shower with me and I need somewhere to put him before and after. Small (at least by comparison), multi-function, gender neutral.
Lolly and Friends Giraffe Rattle - This thing AWESOME! Small, light weight, easy for Flynn's tiny hands to grasp around its neck, doesn't hurt when he inadvertently bashes himself in the face with it and so, so cute! We were even using it on occasion as a bit of a head support when he was in the car seat, it fit just perfectly to be a little extra pillow for him. I love it so much I ordered 3 more, just in case one or two gets lost.
O'Ball Rattle - Also small and light weight, simple and inoffensive. Flynn has been able to grasp and hold on to this sooner and easier than some of his other rattles, partly because it's design makes it so he ends up grabbing hold of it by accident half of the time.
Glider - We have a different one, gifted ours by family and a friend, but any one will do and good gracious, the peaceful hours Flynn and I have spent in that sucker! Movement may be great for baby but don't underestimate how good it is for YOU, too.
Avent Manual Breast Pump - At first I was afraid, I was petrified... no, really. Since I ended up in ICU not even 24 hours after birth from too much pressure on my hands, the thought of hand pumping long enough to express any amount of milk gave me the chills, especially based on my experience with the crappy one that came with my electric pump. So, when the day came that Flynn was having none of nursing, I couldn't get our timing right and I was in so much discomfort I didn't know how I could go any longer, I hopped online to see what was available at the local rural Walmart and picked one that was cheap with decent reviews. Let me tell you what, a hand pump that is dedicated to that job, not just the add on they throw in for good measure with the big gun, is a whole new world! It's comfortable, easy to break down to wash and reassemble, fits in the diaper bag and does a great job. It has saved me on more than one occasion and without having discovered it I would still think of manual pumping as one of motherhood's greatest evils. Coincidentally, we got an Avent bottle for free when we opened our baby registry and it is our favorite! Now we have two. :D
Britax B-Agile Travel System Stroller - Yes. Just yes. At first we were registered for the something-something City stroller, but they are almost identical and this one is BETTER! It came with the infant car seat and base, with the other we'd have had to buy the base separately. It handles like a dream and opens/closes literally with a push of a button. We thought we would be smart and have the infant base in one of our cars and a "permanent" transitional car seat in the car we used less frequently but we gave up and bought a second base. Other than Flynn himself, these are the things we are carrying most often.
Ergobaby Carrier - It's comfortable, easy to use and wear, good for baby's hips (just say 'No!' to Baby Bjorn) and even has a hood to address sun protection. What's not to love? Ok, the price isn't ideal, but for some things the benefit to the baby just has to outweigh the negatives of going for the cheap option, for me this is one of those things. A really great alternative is the Infantino Wrap and Tie Baby Carrier.
Brica Infant Carseat Comfort Canopy - We haven't used this one as much, YET. It's a bug net and a rain/UV cover that makes Flynn's car seat like an awesome little tent. He may be indifferent to it but I love the protection it provides, it's easy to "install" and folds up into its own carrying case.
Infant Nasal Spray - Seriously, for tiny little creatures they can produce some EPIC nose junk. Flynn might not -love- what I've come to call Nose Hose time, but we both appreciate the after effects and harvesting some of those suckers isn't too unlike fishermen getting pumped about a prize catch. Gross? Absolutely but that doesn't make it any less true.
Dropcam - it sounds crazy, but these cameras have been such lifesavers. One in the nursery and two in the most-used rooms in the house let me peek in on the daily activity from work. I the nursery it is great peace of mind to check in on Flynn at night to make sure he's sleeping ok, see if he REALLY needs attention when we hear him cry or if he just needs a minute to resettle, etc. Being able to check on him without opening the door means we have a window to that much more of his cuteness and can peek without stimulating him by entering the room.
BabyConnect - In the beginning we had concerns about Flynn's size and growth rate, so we wanted to find something to help us keep track of all of his progress. We tried a few apps before someone told us about this gold mine. You can track as much or as little information with a wide range of detail options. It is literally the catch-all and an incredible tool. You can track nursing, pumping, eating, eliminating, sleeping, doctor's visits, and so much more. Color coded charts give great snapshots of Flynn's progress or maintenance, which is very comforting.
Well, there's my list so far. I am certain as we go along I'll discover other goodies I will want to come back and add here. What's on your list?
First, a more substantial update post is forthcoming, as soon as I can find my brain... second, I use the term "must" loosely. I feel we are fortunate to have our baby in a time where pretty much anything and everything anyone could possibly imagine (gear,clothes, toys, information...) is at our disposal to assist in raising a child. I've heard, and appreciate, the comment "we didn't have that back then" regarding multiple items Clif and I use without a second thought. We. Are. Lucky. That said, I wanted to share my thoughts on baby items that have come, and will probably be coming, into our house.
To summarize my philosophy on baby things: children have been raised just fine since the dawn of time WITHOUT all the gadgets out there now. Can they help and/or streamline the process? Some do, some may not. Are they nice to have? Sure. Is having one of each and every new item out there necessary to succeed? No way! Our parents brought us up beautifully with a fraction of the tools available to us now and I have every confidence I could do the same, even if with not as much grace. I haven't made that some kind of personal goal, to martyr through child rearing, but it has helped color my perspective on the things we registered and buy for Flynn.
When selecting items to put on our baby registry and shopping lists going forward, there are a few criteria I'd like each item to have at least one of:
1) Gender Neutrality - who knows what baby number two (maybe even three?) will be, I want to get as much use out of our gifts and purchases as possible. Our nursery, for example, will be just as great for a girl as it is for our boy.
2) Small foot print - toys that can't be packed away in bins or that take up half of the living room space are going to be sparse in our already-bursting house. We have gear, LOTS of gear, to support Clif's business and I often feel like I'm drowning in stuff, so I want to limit the amount of additional stuff we probably don't even need, especially if it's huge.
3) Multiple uses - also see item 2, I don't have space for one-trick ponies.
4) How many batteries does it take, sounds does it make, does it enhance or hinder my child's will to exercise his own imagination.
With all that in mind, here are some items that I would fight someone for and the reasons why:
My Breast Friend Nursing Pillow - I admit it, when my sister started RAVING about this thing and INSISTING life would never be the same if I didn't have one and we wished she could have a do-over with her first two girls just so she could use this pillow, I kind of rolled my eyes a little bit. NOW I GET IT! It buckles on, no having to worry about or expend energy keeping it close and secure, I can walk around with it held in place (nursing on the move!), it's easier to transfer Flynn if he falls asleep, we play on it, I lean on it when playing with him on the floor, he props on it during tummy time... I registered for a Boppy because they have cute patterns and I'd always heard how great they were. I don't miss not having one. At all. Anything I could do with a Boppy I can do with My Breast Friend and half of them I can do even BETTER. Seriously. Get one. Get one for every mother of a wee one you know!
Co-Sleeper - This one was on the registry then vetoed because Clif was not so hot on the co-sleeping idea. I ended up making a snap decision to buy it myself several weeks after Flynn was born and it has become one of the most frequently used items we have. Flynn sleeps in a bassinet next to the bed during the night, but when I get up early in the morning to feed him he goes back to sleep in the sleeper between us in bed so one, the other, or both of us get some extra time to sleep in that feels like snuggle time. It is easier to soothe him back to sleep, re-pacify him if he spits it out and it's awesome for waking up slowly with some quiet play in the mornings. We use it all around the house and even more so when we travel (it's easier to carry than the Pack n Play!). I toss it in the car when I go out late or long enough to threaten Flynn's bed time and might need to whip out a nap station in a quiet corner and on weekend overnight trips. It folds in half for easy carrying, is really light weight, doesn't take up a lot of space and lets us provide a place to Flynn to nap on the go without leaving him in his car seat. Flynn has fallen asleep on the couch in the living room and I carry him in it, like a giant pizza box, to the bedroom for the night without disturbing him. I have the one linked and am loving it, but I am considering getting this one so we can use it a little longer (time in relation to his length).
Pack n Play - When we first brought Flynn home I was worried that getting a brand new one for the house when we already had one stashed and ready to use at the family weekend home might have been superfluous. Instead we ended up putting it in the living room (mainly because I hated the idea of Flynn sitting alone, staring at the ceiling in our bedroom and missed having him close to me) and it's, at least for now, a permanent fixture. He naps in it, plays in it, I sometimes change him in it and it's a great catch-all for the toys, blankets and shenanigans that start to take over the living room. I also keep the play mat in it so I don't have to set it up and tear it down all the time, it fits perfectly and doesn't take up a second foot print of space.
Bouncy Swing - It has a small, compact foot print and two functions: a swing when in the base and a bouncy seat when it stands alone. It has a belt and handle so I can carry Flynn around the house in it, particularly nice when we bring him to the dinning room to join us for dinner or when I'm going to take him in the shower with me and I need somewhere to put him before and after. Small (at least by comparison), multi-function, gender neutral.
Lolly and Friends Giraffe Rattle - This thing AWESOME! Small, light weight, easy for Flynn's tiny hands to grasp around its neck, doesn't hurt when he inadvertently bashes himself in the face with it and so, so cute! We were even using it on occasion as a bit of a head support when he was in the car seat, it fit just perfectly to be a little extra pillow for him. I love it so much I ordered 3 more, just in case one or two gets lost.
O'Ball Rattle - Also small and light weight, simple and inoffensive. Flynn has been able to grasp and hold on to this sooner and easier than some of his other rattles, partly because it's design makes it so he ends up grabbing hold of it by accident half of the time.
Glider - We have a different one, gifted ours by family and a friend, but any one will do and good gracious, the peaceful hours Flynn and I have spent in that sucker! Movement may be great for baby but don't underestimate how good it is for YOU, too.
Avent Manual Breast Pump - At first I was afraid, I was petrified... no, really. Since I ended up in ICU not even 24 hours after birth from too much pressure on my hands, the thought of hand pumping long enough to express any amount of milk gave me the chills, especially based on my experience with the crappy one that came with my electric pump. So, when the day came that Flynn was having none of nursing, I couldn't get our timing right and I was in so much discomfort I didn't know how I could go any longer, I hopped online to see what was available at the local rural Walmart and picked one that was cheap with decent reviews. Let me tell you what, a hand pump that is dedicated to that job, not just the add on they throw in for good measure with the big gun, is a whole new world! It's comfortable, easy to break down to wash and reassemble, fits in the diaper bag and does a great job. It has saved me on more than one occasion and without having discovered it I would still think of manual pumping as one of motherhood's greatest evils. Coincidentally, we got an Avent bottle for free when we opened our baby registry and it is our favorite! Now we have two. :D
Britax B-Agile Travel System Stroller - Yes. Just yes. At first we were registered for the something-something City stroller, but they are almost identical and this one is BETTER! It came with the infant car seat and base, with the other we'd have had to buy the base separately. It handles like a dream and opens/closes literally with a push of a button. We thought we would be smart and have the infant base in one of our cars and a "permanent" transitional car seat in the car we used less frequently but we gave up and bought a second base. Other than Flynn himself, these are the things we are carrying most often.
Ergobaby Carrier - It's comfortable, easy to use and wear, good for baby's hips (just say 'No!' to Baby Bjorn) and even has a hood to address sun protection. What's not to love? Ok, the price isn't ideal, but for some things the benefit to the baby just has to outweigh the negatives of going for the cheap option, for me this is one of those things. A really great alternative is the Infantino Wrap and Tie Baby Carrier.
Brica Infant Carseat Comfort Canopy - We haven't used this one as much, YET. It's a bug net and a rain/UV cover that makes Flynn's car seat like an awesome little tent. He may be indifferent to it but I love the protection it provides, it's easy to "install" and folds up into its own carrying case.
Infant Nasal Spray - Seriously, for tiny little creatures they can produce some EPIC nose junk. Flynn might not -love- what I've come to call Nose Hose time, but we both appreciate the after effects and harvesting some of those suckers isn't too unlike fishermen getting pumped about a prize catch. Gross? Absolutely but that doesn't make it any less true.
Dropcam - it sounds crazy, but these cameras have been such lifesavers. One in the nursery and two in the most-used rooms in the house let me peek in on the daily activity from work. I the nursery it is great peace of mind to check in on Flynn at night to make sure he's sleeping ok, see if he REALLY needs attention when we hear him cry or if he just needs a minute to resettle, etc. Being able to check on him without opening the door means we have a window to that much more of his cuteness and can peek without stimulating him by entering the room.
BabyConnect - In the beginning we had concerns about Flynn's size and growth rate, so we wanted to find something to help us keep track of all of his progress. We tried a few apps before someone told us about this gold mine. You can track as much or as little information with a wide range of detail options. It is literally the catch-all and an incredible tool. You can track nursing, pumping, eating, eliminating, sleeping, doctor's visits, and so much more. Color coded charts give great snapshots of Flynn's progress or maintenance, which is very comforting.
Well, there's my list so far. I am certain as we go along I'll discover other goodies I will want to come back and add here. What's on your list?
Wednesday, April 2, 2014
Captain's Log: Day 60
Flynn had his two-month doctor's appointment yesterday. Two months! Where on earth has the time gone? Mostly to sleeping in 3-4 hour stretches, complicated and often messy nursing sessions, changes of astoundingly impressive dirty diapers and snuggles. Lots of snuggles. Have you seen his face? It's pretty hard to resist.
Unfortunately for the second time now we are faced with significant concern about his weight from his pediatrician. The first cause for concern was that he might not make it back up to his birth weight in the two-week time period they like to see. Now there is concern because his weight gain has slowed down considerably. At two months he weighs 8 lbs, 4 oz., which puts him in the 1 percentile, almost falling off the bottom of the weight chart. It's hard for me not to get caught up with the pediatrician's concerns. She is, after all, the professional in this field, not me, to a large extent I have to go with the information that is given and in the way it is presented. She was concerned and so was I.
Except, I keep trying to look at the big picture: Flynn seems to be happy, content, sleeping well, active and aware between naps, and, though slowly, gaining weight and length. He eats until he is full and/or passes out mid-meal. Many an effort has been made to keep him awake to eat for just a few extra minutes or to please, good heavens PLEASE nurse the other side so I don't have to go back to bed in misery to no avail. When this child is tired he sleeps, end of story. (Please note this is NOT a complaint over his lovely sleeping habits, just a statement of difficulty when it interferes with mealtime). The times he manages to stay awake through a full meal we've begun offering formula to supplement some extra calories, which he has been interested in for the sake of pacification as he mouths on the bottle nipple and spits most of the formula back out.
We've made another appointment with the lactation consultant to work on weaning him off using the nipple shield while nursing. That additional barrier is one thing that could be contributing to him not getting the best milk he can get from me. We introduced the shield because initially he would nurse on one side and refuse the other. For a brief time he would nurse with and without until he decided he preferred with and so started refusing to nurse without it. Now he's gotten so lazy about the whole affair he can hardly be bothered to fully open his mouth to latch and when I make an offering without the shield he screams as if I has offended his every sensibility. This needs to be fixed. We are also hoping to brainstorm ways we can increase his calorie intake from me. Our last appointment with this consultant was very positive and I'm eager for more progress after meeting with her next week.
In the meantime we have settled into a fairly decent routine that seems to be working out quite well for all three of us. I've even gone from fear that I will never again see the light of day outside the walls of our house to feeling pretty comfortable traveling with Flynn locally for quick errands or on longer trips that involve strategic stops for nursing on the road (which is, unfortunately, less appealing and more complicated thanks to his stubborn shield preference). I call it progress!
Mammary mayhem aside things are pretty great. He is in this in-between stage where he will spend a good chunk of time awake during the day but lacks the interest and coordination to play with any of the toys, rattles or stuffed animals we offer him. I struggle with not wanting him to just sit and stare, yet he is more than happy to do just that. He has started smiling intentionally, mostly when he is about to fill his diaper or those sacred moments of the perfect trifecta of being full, well-rested and clean. His coos sound more conversational and he makes me smile so hard I feel like my cheeks will burst from the effort. Every gummy grin that takes up his entire face brings me nearly to tears and my heart is full. Each time he looks at me with obvious happiness it makes every moment of frustration (of which there have been thankfully few), uncertainty and worry melt away. The challenging steps are so worth it when he smiles and his eyes sparkle.
Most of our days are pretty much the same and as uneventful as the day before but I'm glad for that, it makes his little progressions that much more wonderful when he surprises us with them. During a very difficult end-of-pregnancy we joked that my having so many problems must mean that he would turn out to be a perfect baby. So far he has been pretty close to ideal and I know we are so lucky.
Flynn may be small, maybe even concerningly so, but to us he's perfect. The weight will come.
Unfortunately for the second time now we are faced with significant concern about his weight from his pediatrician. The first cause for concern was that he might not make it back up to his birth weight in the two-week time period they like to see. Now there is concern because his weight gain has slowed down considerably. At two months he weighs 8 lbs, 4 oz., which puts him in the 1 percentile, almost falling off the bottom of the weight chart. It's hard for me not to get caught up with the pediatrician's concerns. She is, after all, the professional in this field, not me, to a large extent I have to go with the information that is given and in the way it is presented. She was concerned and so was I.
Except, I keep trying to look at the big picture: Flynn seems to be happy, content, sleeping well, active and aware between naps, and, though slowly, gaining weight and length. He eats until he is full and/or passes out mid-meal. Many an effort has been made to keep him awake to eat for just a few extra minutes or to please, good heavens PLEASE nurse the other side so I don't have to go back to bed in misery to no avail. When this child is tired he sleeps, end of story. (Please note this is NOT a complaint over his lovely sleeping habits, just a statement of difficulty when it interferes with mealtime). The times he manages to stay awake through a full meal we've begun offering formula to supplement some extra calories, which he has been interested in for the sake of pacification as he mouths on the bottle nipple and spits most of the formula back out.
We've made another appointment with the lactation consultant to work on weaning him off using the nipple shield while nursing. That additional barrier is one thing that could be contributing to him not getting the best milk he can get from me. We introduced the shield because initially he would nurse on one side and refuse the other. For a brief time he would nurse with and without until he decided he preferred with and so started refusing to nurse without it. Now he's gotten so lazy about the whole affair he can hardly be bothered to fully open his mouth to latch and when I make an offering without the shield he screams as if I has offended his every sensibility. This needs to be fixed. We are also hoping to brainstorm ways we can increase his calorie intake from me. Our last appointment with this consultant was very positive and I'm eager for more progress after meeting with her next week.
In the meantime we have settled into a fairly decent routine that seems to be working out quite well for all three of us. I've even gone from fear that I will never again see the light of day outside the walls of our house to feeling pretty comfortable traveling with Flynn locally for quick errands or on longer trips that involve strategic stops for nursing on the road (which is, unfortunately, less appealing and more complicated thanks to his stubborn shield preference). I call it progress!
Mammary mayhem aside things are pretty great. He is in this in-between stage where he will spend a good chunk of time awake during the day but lacks the interest and coordination to play with any of the toys, rattles or stuffed animals we offer him. I struggle with not wanting him to just sit and stare, yet he is more than happy to do just that. He has started smiling intentionally, mostly when he is about to fill his diaper or those sacred moments of the perfect trifecta of being full, well-rested and clean. His coos sound more conversational and he makes me smile so hard I feel like my cheeks will burst from the effort. Every gummy grin that takes up his entire face brings me nearly to tears and my heart is full. Each time he looks at me with obvious happiness it makes every moment of frustration (of which there have been thankfully few), uncertainty and worry melt away. The challenging steps are so worth it when he smiles and his eyes sparkle.
Most of our days are pretty much the same and as uneventful as the day before but I'm glad for that, it makes his little progressions that much more wonderful when he surprises us with them. During a very difficult end-of-pregnancy we joked that my having so many problems must mean that he would turn out to be a perfect baby. So far he has been pretty close to ideal and I know we are so lucky.
Flynn may be small, maybe even concerningly so, but to us he's perfect. The weight will come.
Thursday, February 20, 2014
Captain's Log: Day 20
It's hard to believe Flynn has been with us for almost 3 weeks already. Time both flies and creeps at a glacial pace. Thankfully at this point my head has cleared enough to process how crazy the past few weeks have been.
There are several things I have often heard regarding adjusting to life post delivery. One is that if you have a c-section make sure you get up and start walking around as soon as possible to help speed up recovery. Immediately post-op and through the next day I was bed ridden to ride out my 24-hour magnesium treatment then spent a day in ICU but by day 3 I was up and about as much as possible, making sure to slowly stand upright and walk the halls for exercise as often as I could manage. I don't know if I was just incredibly lucky or if walking really does help that much but I must say I feel like my section recovery was relatively quick and easy. By the end of the first week I still had some discomfort but was otherwise moving around fairly normally and feeling pretty good. I consider myself blessed to have had a manageable recovery physically since the emotional recovery rocked my boat hardcore.
I've heard many a mother mention how crazy their hormones were in the weeks immediately following delivery but none of them could adequately paint a picture of the nightmare that was to come. I call it a nightmare, which might be a bit drastic, but it didn't feel like an overstatement at the time. Almost immediately I felt plagued with an overwhelming sense of fear, uncertainty, anxiety and dread. There was a tiny person that was relying on us to fulfill its every need and I felt completely unprepared for the task, no matter how much babysitting experience I'd had in the past. Clif was beyond amazing with his help and support and had a level of confidence that I craved desperately. Even though he was keeping it together, and trying to help me do the same, I spent almost every day for a solid 2 weeks internally begging for my mother to come help me get through the hormonal upheaval. Clif was doing absolutely everything right but sometimes there just isn't a substitute for Mom. I couldn't explain how I felt other than wrong, desperate to feel normal again. In addition I had exactly zero appetite and was forcing myself to eat a handful of bites of food for 3 meals a day to try to make sure I was going to be able to provide Flynn with some kind of nutrition from nursing.
In the mornings I woke up feeling ok, prepared to tackle a diaper change and feeding with Flynn. Then I would watch the clock, calculating when I should wake him up again and how the timing of the next feeding would impact the timing of the rest of the day. I was constantly counting hours, trying to balance between 2-3 hour nursing sessions but still give him enough time to sleep, especially if it took some time to get him back to sleep after the feeding before. Getting him back up to birth weight became an obsession when his pediatrician expressed concern that he was nearing the 2-week mark and still had several ounces to gain to get back to birth weight after not gaining anything over the previous 3 days. Life was all about checking diapers, nursing, pumping, supplementing Flynn with additional formula if he was still hungry and I hadn't pumped enough to cover the extra need and spurts of sleep. Several days it felt like I'd never do anything else but repeat this schedule again and again, much less ever see the world outside the walls of our house. I felt trapped, desperate, like a failure and fought waves of panic.
After the first week some days started to feel a little bit better and I had a mix of hormonal suffocation and moments of feeling sane and competent. Sometimes I could smile, feel comfortable and at ease with each moment of our day, other times I would burst into hysterical sobs for no reason at all. Mornings started out with optimism then later in the afternoon the dread crept back up, only to be washed away again during our pre-bedtime nursing. Now, at almost 3 weeks, after having a handful of successful extended trips away from the house, most days are positive and the hormones seem to have settled out significantly.
All things considered, Clif and I are pretty stinking lucky. Flynn (knock on wood) so far sleeps really well and we usually have to be the ones to wake him up to eat. Now that he has gained back and exceeded his birth weight we have changed to letting him wake us up at night instead of setting alarms, but still wake him to try to keep to a schedule during the day. This makes for still feeling somewhat chained to the house (nursing on the go is challenging due to the need for extra equipment) but we don't feel as much pressure as we did before. In addition, since Clif works from home and I get 3 months of maternity leave, we have lots of time together to adjust to having little Flynn. So many parents don't get that kind of time together and I can't express how thankful I am that we do. Clif changes most of the diapers and I do all the nursing but our greatest achievement has been our nighttime routine where I prep a bottle and pump a supply for the next night while Clif changes, feeds and puts Flynn back to sleep. This means we are both up together, supporting each other, and we reduce our time up at night by half. Getting us both back in bed faster helps with getting as much sleep as possible and means less opportunity for resentment if one of us is dragging our tails in the wee hours while the other is blissful in dreamland. Our mantra has been 'team work makes the dream work' and it is working wonders for us.
We've come a long way already but know that every day will be a chance for something new and exciting, an opportunity for us to grow and will have the possibility for everything we've established so far to change. Together we can adjust, adapt and make every new situation work, that is the fact that I will hold on to to help combat my worries and doubts.
There are several things I have often heard regarding adjusting to life post delivery. One is that if you have a c-section make sure you get up and start walking around as soon as possible to help speed up recovery. Immediately post-op and through the next day I was bed ridden to ride out my 24-hour magnesium treatment then spent a day in ICU but by day 3 I was up and about as much as possible, making sure to slowly stand upright and walk the halls for exercise as often as I could manage. I don't know if I was just incredibly lucky or if walking really does help that much but I must say I feel like my section recovery was relatively quick and easy. By the end of the first week I still had some discomfort but was otherwise moving around fairly normally and feeling pretty good. I consider myself blessed to have had a manageable recovery physically since the emotional recovery rocked my boat hardcore.
I've heard many a mother mention how crazy their hormones were in the weeks immediately following delivery but none of them could adequately paint a picture of the nightmare that was to come. I call it a nightmare, which might be a bit drastic, but it didn't feel like an overstatement at the time. Almost immediately I felt plagued with an overwhelming sense of fear, uncertainty, anxiety and dread. There was a tiny person that was relying on us to fulfill its every need and I felt completely unprepared for the task, no matter how much babysitting experience I'd had in the past. Clif was beyond amazing with his help and support and had a level of confidence that I craved desperately. Even though he was keeping it together, and trying to help me do the same, I spent almost every day for a solid 2 weeks internally begging for my mother to come help me get through the hormonal upheaval. Clif was doing absolutely everything right but sometimes there just isn't a substitute for Mom. I couldn't explain how I felt other than wrong, desperate to feel normal again. In addition I had exactly zero appetite and was forcing myself to eat a handful of bites of food for 3 meals a day to try to make sure I was going to be able to provide Flynn with some kind of nutrition from nursing.
In the mornings I woke up feeling ok, prepared to tackle a diaper change and feeding with Flynn. Then I would watch the clock, calculating when I should wake him up again and how the timing of the next feeding would impact the timing of the rest of the day. I was constantly counting hours, trying to balance between 2-3 hour nursing sessions but still give him enough time to sleep, especially if it took some time to get him back to sleep after the feeding before. Getting him back up to birth weight became an obsession when his pediatrician expressed concern that he was nearing the 2-week mark and still had several ounces to gain to get back to birth weight after not gaining anything over the previous 3 days. Life was all about checking diapers, nursing, pumping, supplementing Flynn with additional formula if he was still hungry and I hadn't pumped enough to cover the extra need and spurts of sleep. Several days it felt like I'd never do anything else but repeat this schedule again and again, much less ever see the world outside the walls of our house. I felt trapped, desperate, like a failure and fought waves of panic.
After the first week some days started to feel a little bit better and I had a mix of hormonal suffocation and moments of feeling sane and competent. Sometimes I could smile, feel comfortable and at ease with each moment of our day, other times I would burst into hysterical sobs for no reason at all. Mornings started out with optimism then later in the afternoon the dread crept back up, only to be washed away again during our pre-bedtime nursing. Now, at almost 3 weeks, after having a handful of successful extended trips away from the house, most days are positive and the hormones seem to have settled out significantly.
All things considered, Clif and I are pretty stinking lucky. Flynn (knock on wood) so far sleeps really well and we usually have to be the ones to wake him up to eat. Now that he has gained back and exceeded his birth weight we have changed to letting him wake us up at night instead of setting alarms, but still wake him to try to keep to a schedule during the day. This makes for still feeling somewhat chained to the house (nursing on the go is challenging due to the need for extra equipment) but we don't feel as much pressure as we did before. In addition, since Clif works from home and I get 3 months of maternity leave, we have lots of time together to adjust to having little Flynn. So many parents don't get that kind of time together and I can't express how thankful I am that we do. Clif changes most of the diapers and I do all the nursing but our greatest achievement has been our nighttime routine where I prep a bottle and pump a supply for the next night while Clif changes, feeds and puts Flynn back to sleep. This means we are both up together, supporting each other, and we reduce our time up at night by half. Getting us both back in bed faster helps with getting as much sleep as possible and means less opportunity for resentment if one of us is dragging our tails in the wee hours while the other is blissful in dreamland. Our mantra has been 'team work makes the dream work' and it is working wonders for us.
We've come a long way already but know that every day will be a chance for something new and exciting, an opportunity for us to grow and will have the possibility for everything we've established so far to change. Together we can adjust, adapt and make every new situation work, that is the fact that I will hold on to to help combat my worries and doubts.
Sunday, February 9, 2014
Delivery Day: The Rest of the Story
Mom spent the first night with me to let Clif go home to take care of the pets and get one more night of good sleep. To help get my blood pressure back under control they put me on a magnesium drip which meant I was restricted to the bed until they discontinued the drip. I don't have enough words for how thankful I was to have mom's support that first night.
The next morning we finished magnesium early and I was transferred from the labor and delivery wing to my room in postpartum. The room looked the same but the feel of the wing was just different. I can't put my finger on it, exactly, but I didn't feel as comfortable there. I'm sure a lot of it had to do with the fact that I suddenly had a tiny new human to take care of in there with me and while there would be nurses on hand if I needed, nothing could replace having mom or Clif in there with me.
My nurse came in around midnight to take Flynn away for his car seat challenge since he was so small and I tried to settle in for some uninterrupted sleep. Earlier in the evening I'd noticed that my lip had swollen which has become a fairly standard allergic reaction for me and is mostly just a mild inconvenience. Not long after I'd laid down to get some sleep I started to notice a second of my strange swelling responses seemed to be kicking in. My uvula feels swollen and, while luckily doesn't compromise my airway, the potential is there. In the meantime it makes me gag when I try to talk and makes swallowing anything a great challenge. As I noticed increasing difficulty in managing the swelling in my throat I noticed my hands starting to swell, particularly in the areas where I'd been all but manhandling myself in various efforts to encourage Flynn to nurse. The lip I could have dealt with but now I was trying to deal with all three of my strange swelling reactions, two of which were developing into the worst case I'd yet experienced of each.
I broke down and called my nurse who was just on her way back with Flynn from his challenge. When she got to my room I tried to explain what was going on as best as I could and told her that while I usually can handle the situation, I was starting to have some trouble. She called the OB on duty to check in on me, unfortunately all he could suggest was a dose of Lasix to draw off water and Benadryl for the allergy. I knew neither of those solutions would work but I was too tired and feeling too poorly to say so. The Benadryl hit and I fell deeply asleep sitting up in bed with my hands cradled in my lap.
The next morning my throat was only marginally better but my hands had tripled in size, swelling in all of my fingers, through the palm of my hand and part way up my wrist. This, as can be imagined, was very concerning to my nurses. They started to try calling Clif to have him come in as soon as he could while working on transferring me back to the labor and delivery wing. I was still sufficiently groggy from the Benadryl and made scant little unnecessary movement while I was shifted to a new bed and re-fitted with a catheter while concerned nurses buzzed around trying to figure out what to do with me. By now the next OB was on the clock and she came to inform me she had made the decision to send me to ICU where they were equipped to handle me if something got worse and my airway closed. I tried to assure her that, while ultimately I would do what she wanted, my throat was starting to feel better and just needed more time. She was adamant and I couldn't blame her for being concerned.
I was wheeled in my bed upstairs to ICU and transferred into my personal bay to be hooked up to leads, BP cuff, IV of more magnesium and finger monitor. A few doctors and nurses came through to get my story and try to determine what was going on with me. Zyrtec, Pepcid and a steroid were ordered to try to get my swelling under control, otherwise I was left to sleep off the remainder of my Benadryl hangover. There was a lot of sleeping. Later in the evening they finally brought a breast pump to me with instructions to pump and dump as they weren't sure if the medications I was on would be harmful to Flynn or not. My hands, however, were still so swollen I couldn't manage by myself and had to rely on my nurses to pump for me. The good news was by that point my Give-A-Darn meter was truly broken and I couldn't care less about feeling slightly akin to a dairy cow.
I spent a full day and night in ICU before my swelling reduced enough to be transferred back to postpartum. We had been due to be discharged that day (Tuesday) but were thinking they'd want to keep us one more day due to the unexpected set back. On towards late afternoon/early evening I was feeling fairly well except for a growing anxiety about spending another night alone in the hospital. Clif and I started pushing to be discharged. Luckily Dr. Kula determined that while she was still concerned about my blood pressure, she knew me well enough to know I'd do much better if I wasn't in a stressful situation and agreed to discharge us if I continued to monitor my pressure at home. By dinner time we were on our way home at last, an event full of mixed emotion for me, predominantly thankful to be on our way back to some semblance of normality. Well, as normal as life with a new baby could be.
The next morning we finished magnesium early and I was transferred from the labor and delivery wing to my room in postpartum. The room looked the same but the feel of the wing was just different. I can't put my finger on it, exactly, but I didn't feel as comfortable there. I'm sure a lot of it had to do with the fact that I suddenly had a tiny new human to take care of in there with me and while there would be nurses on hand if I needed, nothing could replace having mom or Clif in there with me.
My nurse came in around midnight to take Flynn away for his car seat challenge since he was so small and I tried to settle in for some uninterrupted sleep. Earlier in the evening I'd noticed that my lip had swollen which has become a fairly standard allergic reaction for me and is mostly just a mild inconvenience. Not long after I'd laid down to get some sleep I started to notice a second of my strange swelling responses seemed to be kicking in. My uvula feels swollen and, while luckily doesn't compromise my airway, the potential is there. In the meantime it makes me gag when I try to talk and makes swallowing anything a great challenge. As I noticed increasing difficulty in managing the swelling in my throat I noticed my hands starting to swell, particularly in the areas where I'd been all but manhandling myself in various efforts to encourage Flynn to nurse. The lip I could have dealt with but now I was trying to deal with all three of my strange swelling reactions, two of which were developing into the worst case I'd yet experienced of each.
I broke down and called my nurse who was just on her way back with Flynn from his challenge. When she got to my room I tried to explain what was going on as best as I could and told her that while I usually can handle the situation, I was starting to have some trouble. She called the OB on duty to check in on me, unfortunately all he could suggest was a dose of Lasix to draw off water and Benadryl for the allergy. I knew neither of those solutions would work but I was too tired and feeling too poorly to say so. The Benadryl hit and I fell deeply asleep sitting up in bed with my hands cradled in my lap.
The next morning my throat was only marginally better but my hands had tripled in size, swelling in all of my fingers, through the palm of my hand and part way up my wrist. This, as can be imagined, was very concerning to my nurses. They started to try calling Clif to have him come in as soon as he could while working on transferring me back to the labor and delivery wing. I was still sufficiently groggy from the Benadryl and made scant little unnecessary movement while I was shifted to a new bed and re-fitted with a catheter while concerned nurses buzzed around trying to figure out what to do with me. By now the next OB was on the clock and she came to inform me she had made the decision to send me to ICU where they were equipped to handle me if something got worse and my airway closed. I tried to assure her that, while ultimately I would do what she wanted, my throat was starting to feel better and just needed more time. She was adamant and I couldn't blame her for being concerned.
I was wheeled in my bed upstairs to ICU and transferred into my personal bay to be hooked up to leads, BP cuff, IV of more magnesium and finger monitor. A few doctors and nurses came through to get my story and try to determine what was going on with me. Zyrtec, Pepcid and a steroid were ordered to try to get my swelling under control, otherwise I was left to sleep off the remainder of my Benadryl hangover. There was a lot of sleeping. Later in the evening they finally brought a breast pump to me with instructions to pump and dump as they weren't sure if the medications I was on would be harmful to Flynn or not. My hands, however, were still so swollen I couldn't manage by myself and had to rely on my nurses to pump for me. The good news was by that point my Give-A-Darn meter was truly broken and I couldn't care less about feeling slightly akin to a dairy cow.
I spent a full day and night in ICU before my swelling reduced enough to be transferred back to postpartum. We had been due to be discharged that day (Tuesday) but were thinking they'd want to keep us one more day due to the unexpected set back. On towards late afternoon/early evening I was feeling fairly well except for a growing anxiety about spending another night alone in the hospital. Clif and I started pushing to be discharged. Luckily Dr. Kula determined that while she was still concerned about my blood pressure, she knew me well enough to know I'd do much better if I wasn't in a stressful situation and agreed to discharge us if I continued to monitor my pressure at home. By dinner time we were on our way home at last, an event full of mixed emotion for me, predominantly thankful to be on our way back to some semblance of normality. Well, as normal as life with a new baby could be.
Saturday, February 8, 2014
Delivery Day
Friday evening, January 31st Clif and I were joined by our dear friend, Shiva at Sweet Water restaurant for what we half-jokingly referred to as our Last Meal. I had crab cakes, fries, roasted brussels sprouts and mixed greens salad with goat cheese. Afterwards Clif drove me to the Birthing Inn check in for the night. After two failed attempts on each wrist an IV line was placed below my left elbow in preparation for the next day and Cervidil was given to prepare my body for induction in the morning. I opted for some Ambien to try to help me sleep, given I had pressure leg cuffs, a contraction and baby monitor strapped to my stomach, an IV line in one arm and blood pressure cuff on the other to try to deal with. I managed to get some sleep, unfortunately the discomfort of all of the necessary accessories overrode the medication. In addition trips to the bathroom while trying not to disturb the Cervidil were rather complicated and uncomfortable.
Clif had spent the night at home and came back early in the morning to bring me something for breakfast before they started Pitocin and I would need to switch to a clear liquid diet. My sister, Laura, and sister-in-law, Judi, arrived soon after and we began the Pitocin drip around 9:00 am. We did pretty well at first, I even managed to find a comfortable position sitting on a birthing ball, resting over the side of the bed. The biggest problem we had was it became almost impossible to keep a good monitor trace on Flynn in that position. We tried to walk a fine line between finding a productive, comfortable position for me and not losing track of how Flynn was doing which meant a lot of holding his monitor and constantly shifting it to try to get his readings.
The Pitocin dose was increased every half hour to try to get labor established. Contractions were coming so close together they were pretty much on top of each other and there didn't seem to be very much relief in the pain. By 1:00 pm I was back in bed and only 3 cm dilated. I was already feeling like I wouldn't be able to get through the entire labor without an epidural or wanting to give up. Laura, Judi and Clif kept coaching and comforting me, telling me I was doing great and that I could do it. I thought if I could just manage one contraction at a time, one minute at a time, I would get as far as I could. I was reluctant to get an epidural because I was afraid of stopping the little bit of progress I'd already made. I settled into a zone where I stayed as still as I could on my left side, eyes closed, breathing slow and deep, chanting to myself that I could make it through each wave of pain. At one point my coaches wondered if I'd fallen asleep but I was too far gone to respond.
Meanwhile we had my blood pressure to contend with. It was already high going into the induction but trying to manage the pain made it worse. I was given increasing doses of blood pressure medication through my IV to try to maintain some control over it but it seemed to be a losing battle. Soon Dr. Kula and our nurses started discussing an epidural in earnest to try to help me continue labor and avoid a c-section if my blood pressure got out of control. I was on the fence, still not ready to give in, hoping to make it at least to 5 cm before agreeing to one.
Around 3:00 pm I was 4 cm dilated, feeling really unsure of my ability to make it to the end and ready for any relief from the constant pain. My coaches had done an amazing job encouraging me and getting me this far but I could appreciate the concern of the medical staff. Since I really wanted to avoid the c-section I decided to give in to the epidural. As soon as I opened my mouth to tell my nurse I was ready, however, my water spontaneously broke. Later Laura and Judi would say they wished they'd had a camera to catch the expression on my face. I was a bit out of it but I could tell my eyes widened to the size of dinner plates. Instead of asking for the epidural I announced I thought my water broke. I got help to get up one more time to go to the bathroom while everyone else shifted gears with the new development.
If I thought I'd been in pain before I was about to get a rude wake up call. Sensations intensified drastically and from the bathroom I yelled through the door that I was ready for the epidural as soon as humanly possible. It was gut wrenching to hear that they needed to check my platelet count before they could place it, to me it sounded like it would be an eternity before I could get some relief. I all but threw my arm in the nurse's face in desperation. Laura and Judi tried to talk me through the contractions as best as they could while Clif helped facilitate getting ready for the epidural, but everything was a blur.
I hadn't even noticed when Dr. Kula came in the room but she wanted to check our progress, I was relieved to hear we were at 7 cm dilated. By the time the platelet count came back and the anesthetist was ready to go I could barely get around the end of the bed to the other side between peaks of contractions. Judi and Laura had to leave the room leaving Clif to sit in front of me while the epidural was placed. The anesthetist asked if I had any questions, my only one was how long it would take to kick in. By this time my composure was next to non-existent and I made little effort to try to hide or control my discomfort. I flipped between high pitched keening and low, gutteral groaning, punctuated by a string of "ow, ow, ow"s while trying to sit perfectly still, waiting desperately for relief. It felt like an eternity but I started to relax in a matter of moments. Clif and my nurse had to help me lie back in bed and each moment I relaxed even more. The more I relaxed the less I cared about what she wanted to do to make sure Flynn was doing alright. We were still having a hard time getting a good read on Flynn's heart rate so Dr. Kula wanted to use an internal monitor that was more accurate to see how he was doing. I could tell fairly quickly that something wasn't quite right with what I heard, my worry confirmed a second later when Dr. Kula told me Flynn's heart rate had dropped to 60 bpm and that he needed to be delivered immediately via c-section. I managed a nod and an "ok", his well-being was by far the most important thing.
In a matter of seconds my room was full of medical staff and before I knew it I was being rolled in bed out of the room, Clif left behind in the chaotic aftermath. As we were wheeling into the surgical suite I still hadn't quite processed what was going on. It wasn't until I was on the surgical table, watching how quickly everyone worked to get me ready for section through the reflection of the surgical lights that it dawned on me that this was a legitimate emergency situation. They barely had time to swab my stomach before Dr. Kula was cutting and working handily to get Flynn out. I didn't feel any pain but the yanking and tugging was intense. Before I could blink the tugging stopped and Flynn was whisked to a table at the side of the room. I turned to look but couldn't see past the doctor and two nurses standing over him, blocking my view. I couldn't hear anything and remember thinking that something felt really wrong, feeling especially worried when one of the nurses looked up across the table at the nurse across from her with what I perceived to be a concerned expression. I paid no attention to the people working to close me up, which was easy since everyone seemed so quiet. I only cared about watching that table, tears streaming down my face, wondering why someone couldn't tell me what was going on. I kept up a desperate mantra of, "Dear Lord, please let him be alright".
Finally I heard a tiny sound, then a slightly larger one then a few cries that sounded like they had actual substance behind them. One of the nurses working on Flynn looked over at me, flashed a quick thumbs up and I think I took my first breath in several minutes. Nothing else going on in that room mattered after seeing that sign of reassurance that he was going to be ok. A nurse eventually brought him over to me, wrapped tightly in a blanket, and let me hold him with one arm against me chest for a minute so I could see him. I held him as long as I could at that angle before I had to give him back, worried my arm was going to fatigue. I had to wait several more minutes on the operating table for an x-ray technician to arrive to check me. We'd rushed into surgery so fast there hadn't been a chance to count the surgical pack before beginning so the x-rays were to make sure nothing was left behind inside. Eventually I was wheeled out of the suite to join Clif in his surgical attire who had been bonding with Flynn and we had our first moments together as a family.
I later learned:
-When I was taken out of the delivery room for section Clif was left behind in the room, alone, not knowing exactly what was going on. An off duty nurse who recognized him happened past and asked if he was ok, which he wasn't. She helped get an update on my situation and him get into the surgical suite to see me.
-When Flynn was delivered his Apgar score was 2 at one minute: he had color and a heart beat. They had to give almost 2 minutes of rescue breathing initially and at minute 5 his score was up to 8.
-When Dr. Kula checked me the last time as she was checking on Flynn I had dilated to 8-9 cm and we were almost ready to push.
-The thought is that Flynn's heart rate dropped so low because he may have grabbed a hold of his cord.
Flynn was delivered at 5:19 pm on Saturday, February 1st, 2014, weighing 5.13 lbs at delivery and measuring 19 inches long.
Clif had spent the night at home and came back early in the morning to bring me something for breakfast before they started Pitocin and I would need to switch to a clear liquid diet. My sister, Laura, and sister-in-law, Judi, arrived soon after and we began the Pitocin drip around 9:00 am. We did pretty well at first, I even managed to find a comfortable position sitting on a birthing ball, resting over the side of the bed. The biggest problem we had was it became almost impossible to keep a good monitor trace on Flynn in that position. We tried to walk a fine line between finding a productive, comfortable position for me and not losing track of how Flynn was doing which meant a lot of holding his monitor and constantly shifting it to try to get his readings.
The Pitocin dose was increased every half hour to try to get labor established. Contractions were coming so close together they were pretty much on top of each other and there didn't seem to be very much relief in the pain. By 1:00 pm I was back in bed and only 3 cm dilated. I was already feeling like I wouldn't be able to get through the entire labor without an epidural or wanting to give up. Laura, Judi and Clif kept coaching and comforting me, telling me I was doing great and that I could do it. I thought if I could just manage one contraction at a time, one minute at a time, I would get as far as I could. I was reluctant to get an epidural because I was afraid of stopping the little bit of progress I'd already made. I settled into a zone where I stayed as still as I could on my left side, eyes closed, breathing slow and deep, chanting to myself that I could make it through each wave of pain. At one point my coaches wondered if I'd fallen asleep but I was too far gone to respond.
Meanwhile we had my blood pressure to contend with. It was already high going into the induction but trying to manage the pain made it worse. I was given increasing doses of blood pressure medication through my IV to try to maintain some control over it but it seemed to be a losing battle. Soon Dr. Kula and our nurses started discussing an epidural in earnest to try to help me continue labor and avoid a c-section if my blood pressure got out of control. I was on the fence, still not ready to give in, hoping to make it at least to 5 cm before agreeing to one.
Around 3:00 pm I was 4 cm dilated, feeling really unsure of my ability to make it to the end and ready for any relief from the constant pain. My coaches had done an amazing job encouraging me and getting me this far but I could appreciate the concern of the medical staff. Since I really wanted to avoid the c-section I decided to give in to the epidural. As soon as I opened my mouth to tell my nurse I was ready, however, my water spontaneously broke. Later Laura and Judi would say they wished they'd had a camera to catch the expression on my face. I was a bit out of it but I could tell my eyes widened to the size of dinner plates. Instead of asking for the epidural I announced I thought my water broke. I got help to get up one more time to go to the bathroom while everyone else shifted gears with the new development.
If I thought I'd been in pain before I was about to get a rude wake up call. Sensations intensified drastically and from the bathroom I yelled through the door that I was ready for the epidural as soon as humanly possible. It was gut wrenching to hear that they needed to check my platelet count before they could place it, to me it sounded like it would be an eternity before I could get some relief. I all but threw my arm in the nurse's face in desperation. Laura and Judi tried to talk me through the contractions as best as they could while Clif helped facilitate getting ready for the epidural, but everything was a blur.
I hadn't even noticed when Dr. Kula came in the room but she wanted to check our progress, I was relieved to hear we were at 7 cm dilated. By the time the platelet count came back and the anesthetist was ready to go I could barely get around the end of the bed to the other side between peaks of contractions. Judi and Laura had to leave the room leaving Clif to sit in front of me while the epidural was placed. The anesthetist asked if I had any questions, my only one was how long it would take to kick in. By this time my composure was next to non-existent and I made little effort to try to hide or control my discomfort. I flipped between high pitched keening and low, gutteral groaning, punctuated by a string of "ow, ow, ow"s while trying to sit perfectly still, waiting desperately for relief. It felt like an eternity but I started to relax in a matter of moments. Clif and my nurse had to help me lie back in bed and each moment I relaxed even more. The more I relaxed the less I cared about what she wanted to do to make sure Flynn was doing alright. We were still having a hard time getting a good read on Flynn's heart rate so Dr. Kula wanted to use an internal monitor that was more accurate to see how he was doing. I could tell fairly quickly that something wasn't quite right with what I heard, my worry confirmed a second later when Dr. Kula told me Flynn's heart rate had dropped to 60 bpm and that he needed to be delivered immediately via c-section. I managed a nod and an "ok", his well-being was by far the most important thing.
In a matter of seconds my room was full of medical staff and before I knew it I was being rolled in bed out of the room, Clif left behind in the chaotic aftermath. As we were wheeling into the surgical suite I still hadn't quite processed what was going on. It wasn't until I was on the surgical table, watching how quickly everyone worked to get me ready for section through the reflection of the surgical lights that it dawned on me that this was a legitimate emergency situation. They barely had time to swab my stomach before Dr. Kula was cutting and working handily to get Flynn out. I didn't feel any pain but the yanking and tugging was intense. Before I could blink the tugging stopped and Flynn was whisked to a table at the side of the room. I turned to look but couldn't see past the doctor and two nurses standing over him, blocking my view. I couldn't hear anything and remember thinking that something felt really wrong, feeling especially worried when one of the nurses looked up across the table at the nurse across from her with what I perceived to be a concerned expression. I paid no attention to the people working to close me up, which was easy since everyone seemed so quiet. I only cared about watching that table, tears streaming down my face, wondering why someone couldn't tell me what was going on. I kept up a desperate mantra of, "Dear Lord, please let him be alright".
Finally I heard a tiny sound, then a slightly larger one then a few cries that sounded like they had actual substance behind them. One of the nurses working on Flynn looked over at me, flashed a quick thumbs up and I think I took my first breath in several minutes. Nothing else going on in that room mattered after seeing that sign of reassurance that he was going to be ok. A nurse eventually brought him over to me, wrapped tightly in a blanket, and let me hold him with one arm against me chest for a minute so I could see him. I held him as long as I could at that angle before I had to give him back, worried my arm was going to fatigue. I had to wait several more minutes on the operating table for an x-ray technician to arrive to check me. We'd rushed into surgery so fast there hadn't been a chance to count the surgical pack before beginning so the x-rays were to make sure nothing was left behind inside. Eventually I was wheeled out of the suite to join Clif in his surgical attire who had been bonding with Flynn and we had our first moments together as a family.
I later learned:
-When I was taken out of the delivery room for section Clif was left behind in the room, alone, not knowing exactly what was going on. An off duty nurse who recognized him happened past and asked if he was ok, which he wasn't. She helped get an update on my situation and him get into the surgical suite to see me.
-When Flynn was delivered his Apgar score was 2 at one minute: he had color and a heart beat. They had to give almost 2 minutes of rescue breathing initially and at minute 5 his score was up to 8.
-When Dr. Kula checked me the last time as she was checking on Flynn I had dilated to 8-9 cm and we were almost ready to push.
-The thought is that Flynn's heart rate dropped so low because he may have grabbed a hold of his cord.
Flynn was delivered at 5:19 pm on Saturday, February 1st, 2014, weighing 5.13 lbs at delivery and measuring 19 inches long.
Friday, January 24, 2014
The Great Catch-All
It's been a while since I posted here, I think for several reasons. The last couple of months have been tumultuous at best, filled with uncertainties, celebrations, anxieties and one ginormous emotional roller coaster. Every time I thought I'd make a post to update our gestational status I'd feel overwhelmed and anxious because I was sure no sooner would I post something than it would all change within a matter of hours. Now that we are in the final week countdown to meeting our little Flynn I feel it is the time to catch upon what's been going on with us before we start the next chapter. Read at your own risk as this is basically one huge brain-dump, rambling in nature in an effort to touch on all the significant happenings from the past couple of months.
This pregnancy has blessed me with gestational diabetes and hypertension. The hypertension was... challenging, to say the least. Every other time I had an appointment with my primary care provider or our midwives my blood pressure would alternate from nearly perfect to high. I blamed a lot of my high readings on the fact that we were working through a 3rd pregnancy right after losing two back to back the year before. Those emotions and fears were still fairly fresh and being a natural worrier it was hard not to worry, no matter how many times someone told me I just needed to relax (if only it were that easy). In addition at some point I managed to develop White Coat Syndrome (anxiety just from walking in the office door), a condition that ended up getting worse the further along we got, especially once we started to learn about my higher-risk conditions. My primary care provider gave me a blood pressure medication that, ultimately, didn't really help and our midwives monitored me carefully at each appointment, noting that my blood pressure readings sometimes ok, sometimes borderline concerning but always wonky within what they considered was an acceptable range that they could deal with.
The diabetes was much more noticeable (I never felt my blood pressure fluctuations) but it certainly seemed easier to handle. At first I was not excited about the prospect of having to eat on a specific schedule and keep track of checking my blood at precise times four times a day but realizing that my dietary goals basically boiled down to a Weight Watchers-esque plan of counting carbs instead of calories and having a point allowance per meal instead of per day, following it was much easier than I'd originally feared. It was great to be able to maintain my diabetes successfully by diet and avoid medications.
Around the second week of December I got a call from the midwives telling me during a routine consultation of higher risk patients it was decided that my care needed to be transferred from them to an OB. This was heartbreaking news to me since I saw it as the beginning of the deterioration of our birth wishes. I unsuccessfully held back tears as I called to make an appointment with the OB practice the midwives consulted regularly with, both because they were at least already somewhat familiar with my records and because I didn't have any other OB to transfer to. I tried diligently to not let fear and anxiety over what felt to me like a substantial upheaval run rampant but I couldn't keep my worry in check.
On December 17th Clif and I had our first appointment the OB practice the midwives referred us to. My unease started just walking in the door of the hospital and grew upon entering their office. It just wasn't the comfortable, relaxing environment with staff I was already familiar with like our appointments at the midwives. I felt completely overwhelmed and steamrolled when we met Dr. Jeffrey-Coker, one of the four OBs of the practice, who did little to hide her blunt, direct, matter-of-fact approach to our situation. Clif liked her immediately for her approach, I felt more fragile and think I could have done with a bit more gentleness. My blood pressure registered at 176/107, two numbers that utterly shocked and terrified me. I stared at the screen, trying to process the words that seemed to be flying too fast from the doctor's mouth, trying to understand how I'd gotten to this horrible little room and trying to fathom how those numbers could possibly be right. She took my pressure again and the second reading was almost the same. By now I'd been nearly sobbing through the majority of our whirlwind appointment, tears that came even more freely when she told us we would need to go downstairs to Labor and Delivery to be triaged and further assessed with the possibility of being admitted overnight.
Possibility turned into certainty and before I knew it I found myself in a hospital gown and socks in one of their labor and delivery suites, attended to by a bustling nurse, drained of several vials of blood, set up for another 24-hour urine collection and strapped up to various machines for monitoring. I kept telling myself it would only be one night and I could get through it, just one step at a time.
Some of my blood values came back slightly elevated, enough of a concern that my overnight stay was going to be extended at least another day with the possibility of us being delivered at any moment. I felt terrified and numb at the same time, struggling to wrap my head around how the day before I'd left my office for a doctor's appointment thinking I'd be back to my usual routine but instead was facing the possibility of having to have a sudden c-section to deliver our son into the NICU at 34 weeks. The next day my values had stabilized, still elevated but they hadn't gone up so we wouldn't deliver quite yet but the doctor made it clear that possibility was still very much on the table. Our overnight stay turned two-day stay suddenly became an indefinite stay while we waited for my pre-eclampsia to take over and all of my values to tank.
Three days in I was moved to a smaller antenatal room and the barrage of testing maintained: five vials of blood drawn and tested twice a day, fetal heart rate monitoring twice a day, blood glucose values checked four times a day, better blood pressure medications administered twice a day, bio profile ultrasound scheduled every 3-4 days, 24- hour urine collection about once a week, blood pressure evaluated frequently. I felt a bit like a lab rat but I was determined to be a pleasant, cooperative lab rat. It became my personal mission to strive to be the best patient these nurses had ever seen, an exercise that helped me get through the situation as much as I hope it helped them to have to take care of me. Eventually I started leaving my room door cracked open so I could smile as they would walk by, encourage them to peek their heads in to say hi and in general not feel as much like I was in time-out. I felt more like a fixture of the hall than a patient.
I started knitting scarves to help pass the time and soon had so many my reputation on the wing grew to the point that nurses who didn't even have me as a patient would come by my room to see my brag board of goodies. One of the nurses bought a scarf for herself while another I gifted to a mother who had been admitted for almost the same reason I was, except she was really sick and they did deliver her baby while I continued to skate by. I thought I understood how she must have felt, was thankful that so far I wasn't exactly in her shoes and asked her nurse to give it to her for me as a gesture of support. I later learned that she cuddled the scarf instead of her baby who she wouldn't even see until the next day at the earliest, I hope it gave her comfort. The rest of the scarves continues to take over the single bulletin board in my room and we decided to open an Etsy store to sell them. That decision escalated into multiple donations of yarn from my mother and dear friends, donations that would help populate our little shop and in turn, hopefully, help us pay down a growing hospital bill.
Sitting and knitting consumed the majority of my two-week stay in the hospital, punctuated with visits from a great number of family, friends and loved ones who came to say hi and see how we were doing. Clif would come as he could and work on writing his book while I watched tv and cranked out scarves, it helped just to have him there with me.
We were settled in for the long haul since our doctor told us I would be on bed rest in the hospital until we delivered the baby, which still could be as early as the next day or as late as 37 weeks, then as late as 38 weeks then 39 weeks. The time extended as my blood values slowly, and surprisingly, normalized. That was a direction none of our care providers were expecting them to go, I think I had them all stumped about what to do with me. Finally Dr. Jeffrey-Coker came to see us and told us she'd taken a stand to have us discharged to finish bed rest at home, under strict instructions to monitor myself carefully and follow the rules of rest. Clif packed my belongings as if he were fleeing the country and within an hour we were home sweet home. My position and activity hadn't changed, I was still perched sitting up on the chaise part of the couch, watching tv and knitting scarves, but being able to do it in the comfort of home made a world of difference.
We have somehow managed a full 360 in terms of the final stages of this pregnancy. We started out with dreams of a natural labor and delivery, dreams that were yanked out from under us as we faced the possibility of a very early c-section with NICU time (no skin to skin delivery or immediate bonding time, no immediate breast feeding, etc.) but are now back to our final march to 39 weeks and the ability to induce labor for delivery since Flynn finally turned into head down position (c-section at 39 weeks has still been on the table since he was breech) and we are so thankful. We have gone through things we never could have even imagined having to face but we are stronger and better prepared because of it. On many levels I could have done without the turmoil, chaos and emotional exhaustion from the constant changing of our status and resulting delivery plan, the difficulty in trying to get the exact story from two different practices (OBs and Maternal Fetal Medicine) who saw me independently while seemingly not talking to each other, but I'm grateful for what we've learned and who we've been able to meet as a result of the entire experience.
At this point Clif and I are as prepared as possible for Flynn, which is not to say I feel anywhere near ready. Worry, anxiety, fear, uncertainty are all forefront in my mind as we face the arrival of the biggest change of our lives. We often hear sentiments along the lines of "you'll never be fully prepared for a baby" and "everything will work out, you'll be great parents", which are both completely unhelpful and the most true statements that could ever be made. I don't think it's possible to find words that can take away those anxious feelings, I believe it is part of the process, but it sure is hard to navigate them. I want to be completely consumed with excitement and confidence, but I'm not and know I won't be. I'm trying to be ok with that. Instead I'm cruising this final week, trying to prepare myself as best as I can, thankful for the health Flynn and I have, the negative situations we've been able to avoid so far and know that each day moving forward will be a learning curve, some with good results and some with harder ones. I have every faith that Clif, Flynn and myself will navigate our new road together to the best of our combined abilities and that while it won't be easy in the beginning over time we will get better at it.
This pregnancy has blessed me with gestational diabetes and hypertension. The hypertension was... challenging, to say the least. Every other time I had an appointment with my primary care provider or our midwives my blood pressure would alternate from nearly perfect to high. I blamed a lot of my high readings on the fact that we were working through a 3rd pregnancy right after losing two back to back the year before. Those emotions and fears were still fairly fresh and being a natural worrier it was hard not to worry, no matter how many times someone told me I just needed to relax (if only it were that easy). In addition at some point I managed to develop White Coat Syndrome (anxiety just from walking in the office door), a condition that ended up getting worse the further along we got, especially once we started to learn about my higher-risk conditions. My primary care provider gave me a blood pressure medication that, ultimately, didn't really help and our midwives monitored me carefully at each appointment, noting that my blood pressure readings sometimes ok, sometimes borderline concerning but always wonky within what they considered was an acceptable range that they could deal with.
The diabetes was much more noticeable (I never felt my blood pressure fluctuations) but it certainly seemed easier to handle. At first I was not excited about the prospect of having to eat on a specific schedule and keep track of checking my blood at precise times four times a day but realizing that my dietary goals basically boiled down to a Weight Watchers-esque plan of counting carbs instead of calories and having a point allowance per meal instead of per day, following it was much easier than I'd originally feared. It was great to be able to maintain my diabetes successfully by diet and avoid medications.
Around the second week of December I got a call from the midwives telling me during a routine consultation of higher risk patients it was decided that my care needed to be transferred from them to an OB. This was heartbreaking news to me since I saw it as the beginning of the deterioration of our birth wishes. I unsuccessfully held back tears as I called to make an appointment with the OB practice the midwives consulted regularly with, both because they were at least already somewhat familiar with my records and because I didn't have any other OB to transfer to. I tried diligently to not let fear and anxiety over what felt to me like a substantial upheaval run rampant but I couldn't keep my worry in check.
On December 17th Clif and I had our first appointment the OB practice the midwives referred us to. My unease started just walking in the door of the hospital and grew upon entering their office. It just wasn't the comfortable, relaxing environment with staff I was already familiar with like our appointments at the midwives. I felt completely overwhelmed and steamrolled when we met Dr. Jeffrey-Coker, one of the four OBs of the practice, who did little to hide her blunt, direct, matter-of-fact approach to our situation. Clif liked her immediately for her approach, I felt more fragile and think I could have done with a bit more gentleness. My blood pressure registered at 176/107, two numbers that utterly shocked and terrified me. I stared at the screen, trying to process the words that seemed to be flying too fast from the doctor's mouth, trying to understand how I'd gotten to this horrible little room and trying to fathom how those numbers could possibly be right. She took my pressure again and the second reading was almost the same. By now I'd been nearly sobbing through the majority of our whirlwind appointment, tears that came even more freely when she told us we would need to go downstairs to Labor and Delivery to be triaged and further assessed with the possibility of being admitted overnight.
Possibility turned into certainty and before I knew it I found myself in a hospital gown and socks in one of their labor and delivery suites, attended to by a bustling nurse, drained of several vials of blood, set up for another 24-hour urine collection and strapped up to various machines for monitoring. I kept telling myself it would only be one night and I could get through it, just one step at a time.
Some of my blood values came back slightly elevated, enough of a concern that my overnight stay was going to be extended at least another day with the possibility of us being delivered at any moment. I felt terrified and numb at the same time, struggling to wrap my head around how the day before I'd left my office for a doctor's appointment thinking I'd be back to my usual routine but instead was facing the possibility of having to have a sudden c-section to deliver our son into the NICU at 34 weeks. The next day my values had stabilized, still elevated but they hadn't gone up so we wouldn't deliver quite yet but the doctor made it clear that possibility was still very much on the table. Our overnight stay turned two-day stay suddenly became an indefinite stay while we waited for my pre-eclampsia to take over and all of my values to tank.
Three days in I was moved to a smaller antenatal room and the barrage of testing maintained: five vials of blood drawn and tested twice a day, fetal heart rate monitoring twice a day, blood glucose values checked four times a day, better blood pressure medications administered twice a day, bio profile ultrasound scheduled every 3-4 days, 24- hour urine collection about once a week, blood pressure evaluated frequently. I felt a bit like a lab rat but I was determined to be a pleasant, cooperative lab rat. It became my personal mission to strive to be the best patient these nurses had ever seen, an exercise that helped me get through the situation as much as I hope it helped them to have to take care of me. Eventually I started leaving my room door cracked open so I could smile as they would walk by, encourage them to peek their heads in to say hi and in general not feel as much like I was in time-out. I felt more like a fixture of the hall than a patient.
I started knitting scarves to help pass the time and soon had so many my reputation on the wing grew to the point that nurses who didn't even have me as a patient would come by my room to see my brag board of goodies. One of the nurses bought a scarf for herself while another I gifted to a mother who had been admitted for almost the same reason I was, except she was really sick and they did deliver her baby while I continued to skate by. I thought I understood how she must have felt, was thankful that so far I wasn't exactly in her shoes and asked her nurse to give it to her for me as a gesture of support. I later learned that she cuddled the scarf instead of her baby who she wouldn't even see until the next day at the earliest, I hope it gave her comfort. The rest of the scarves continues to take over the single bulletin board in my room and we decided to open an Etsy store to sell them. That decision escalated into multiple donations of yarn from my mother and dear friends, donations that would help populate our little shop and in turn, hopefully, help us pay down a growing hospital bill.
Sitting and knitting consumed the majority of my two-week stay in the hospital, punctuated with visits from a great number of family, friends and loved ones who came to say hi and see how we were doing. Clif would come as he could and work on writing his book while I watched tv and cranked out scarves, it helped just to have him there with me.
We were settled in for the long haul since our doctor told us I would be on bed rest in the hospital until we delivered the baby, which still could be as early as the next day or as late as 37 weeks, then as late as 38 weeks then 39 weeks. The time extended as my blood values slowly, and surprisingly, normalized. That was a direction none of our care providers were expecting them to go, I think I had them all stumped about what to do with me. Finally Dr. Jeffrey-Coker came to see us and told us she'd taken a stand to have us discharged to finish bed rest at home, under strict instructions to monitor myself carefully and follow the rules of rest. Clif packed my belongings as if he were fleeing the country and within an hour we were home sweet home. My position and activity hadn't changed, I was still perched sitting up on the chaise part of the couch, watching tv and knitting scarves, but being able to do it in the comfort of home made a world of difference.
We have somehow managed a full 360 in terms of the final stages of this pregnancy. We started out with dreams of a natural labor and delivery, dreams that were yanked out from under us as we faced the possibility of a very early c-section with NICU time (no skin to skin delivery or immediate bonding time, no immediate breast feeding, etc.) but are now back to our final march to 39 weeks and the ability to induce labor for delivery since Flynn finally turned into head down position (c-section at 39 weeks has still been on the table since he was breech) and we are so thankful. We have gone through things we never could have even imagined having to face but we are stronger and better prepared because of it. On many levels I could have done without the turmoil, chaos and emotional exhaustion from the constant changing of our status and resulting delivery plan, the difficulty in trying to get the exact story from two different practices (OBs and Maternal Fetal Medicine) who saw me independently while seemingly not talking to each other, but I'm grateful for what we've learned and who we've been able to meet as a result of the entire experience.
At this point Clif and I are as prepared as possible for Flynn, which is not to say I feel anywhere near ready. Worry, anxiety, fear, uncertainty are all forefront in my mind as we face the arrival of the biggest change of our lives. We often hear sentiments along the lines of "you'll never be fully prepared for a baby" and "everything will work out, you'll be great parents", which are both completely unhelpful and the most true statements that could ever be made. I don't think it's possible to find words that can take away those anxious feelings, I believe it is part of the process, but it sure is hard to navigate them. I want to be completely consumed with excitement and confidence, but I'm not and know I won't be. I'm trying to be ok with that. Instead I'm cruising this final week, trying to prepare myself as best as I can, thankful for the health Flynn and I have, the negative situations we've been able to avoid so far and know that each day moving forward will be a learning curve, some with good results and some with harder ones. I have every faith that Clif, Flynn and myself will navigate our new road together to the best of our combined abilities and that while it won't be easy in the beginning over time we will get better at it.
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