I knew the day would come eventually, but I was living in denial about it. The day I'm talking about you ask? Sigh. The day that Paul would return to work. He's been off work since February 24th when we went in to have Emma (or so we thought lol) and it sure has been nice to have him home.
A) I make him drivey everywhere while I sit in back with Emma. He calls it "driving Miss Daisy." Even when my friend Cory was in town I let her sit in back, but I didn't like it. I missed seeing Emma's face.
B) He helps with middle of the night feedings and with getting Emma to sleep at night.
C) He changes 99% of her diapers.
D) He carries the car seat. That thing is HEAVY! Especially when there is a baby in it. Phew!
And now...sigh...I'll have to change 99% of the diapers.
Today though Emma & I made our first steps towards independence. We went to a breastfeeding group held by our hospital. I actually had to sit in front...ya know cause I drove and all. I for sure felt a lot of anxiety on the way there and did a lot of deep breathing. I also used red lights to turn around and check to make sure she was breathing.
But we made it! I got the car seat out successfully (although it wasn't pretty) and found the right place and even breastfed in public (more on that later) AND I really enjoyed myself. I don't have many mommy friends up here and it was nice to be around other new mommies. I noticed none of them seemed like the hot mess I've been (although I did shower and put on make up and NOT wear my crocs to the group), but they did have good breastfeeding questions.
In Sasha news...our poor girl looks like she's been in a dog fight and is groggy as all get out. They removed another couple teeth and supposedly her breath smells doggy fresh again (instead of like dead fish). Her entire upper back is shaved and she has 2 large lines of staples where they removed what they thought were just cysts. Her leg is injured and she has to rest it for 4 to 6 weeks (that'll be a good time) and she's on lots of meds, but it looks like she is going to survive. Yay!
Wednesday, March 30, 2011
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
God's Message in Unexpected Places
If you follow my blog or follow my FB then you have read about my struggle with post-partum depression and anxiety. For me, it has really been more about the anxiety and yesterday as I read about the anniversary of the loss of a child I knew I had a difficult time as I imagined what that loss must feel like. I know what I imagine cannot even come close to how painful that must truly be. As I lay in bed crying Paul kept asking me what was wrong and I asked him how he doesn't worry about SIDS. He said honestly the only time he thinks about it at all is when I bring it up and why worry about something we have no control over and I realized he is right. For sure we are taking all the preventative measures we can (sleeping on her back, trying to regulate her temperature, breastfeeding, etc), but if it is God's plan that we only get to have our beautiful girl for a short period of time then it's God's plan. And I asked myself if I knew she would only be here for a short period of time would I still have chosen to have her and the answer is emphatically yes. Emma's presence in our life has been such a blessing so far and I pray that we get the joy of watching her grow up. She is the light of my life, of our lives really and I can hardly remember a time when she wasn't here even though she's only 4 weeks old. What did we do with ourselves before we had this tiny bundle to care for?
Tonight I was reminded even more how selfish my worries and anxiety truly have been. I follow a blog in which the writer, a mother, lost one of her 2 1/2 year old twins before Christmas. Today they had to put their dog to sleep. So sad and so much loss to go through in such a short amount of time, but she is relying on God to help her through.
She recently posted the following from Jesus Calling:
This is a time in your life when you must learn to let go: of loved ones, of possessions,of control. In order to let go of something that is precious to you, you need to rest in My Presence, where you are complete. Take time to bask in the Light of My Love. As you relax more and more, your grasping hand gradually opens up, releasing your prized possession into My care.
Those words truly spoke to my heart. I haven't been faithful because I've allowed my anxieties to overwhelm me and rob me of the joy of motherhood. I am missing precious moments because I have been so focused on what might be instead of what is. This family truly has experienced the worst pain imaginable and yet they are still present in life's joy. I have the most beautiful baby ever (I know all parents say that, but Emma really is gorgeous and funny) and I want to enjoy every second I have to spend with her.
I do not even need to worry about controlling my anxiety. God will do that for me. He will watch over us and bless us and all we need to do is appreciate what we have.
Tonight we also will be asking God to watch over our Sasha (our 85lb boxer). She had a vet appt today and goes back tomorrow for surgery on her mouth to remove an abscess, remove 2 tumors on her shoulder, and for them to xray her leg and find out why she's been limping. Hopefully the tumors are benign and her leg is something easy to fix and not a torn ligament or bone cancer (possibilities the vet told Paul). Sasha loves her baby Emma so much and we for sure want Sasha to have the opportunity to someday play with the baby she loves so much. We will keep you posted.
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| Our beautiful little Emma |
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| This is what 48 hours and an unplanned c-section |
Tonight I was reminded even more how selfish my worries and anxiety truly have been. I follow a blog in which the writer, a mother, lost one of her 2 1/2 year old twins before Christmas. Today they had to put their dog to sleep. So sad and so much loss to go through in such a short amount of time, but she is relying on God to help her through.
She recently posted the following from Jesus Calling:
This is a time in your life when you must learn to let go: of loved ones, of possessions,of control. In order to let go of something that is precious to you, you need to rest in My Presence, where you are complete. Take time to bask in the Light of My Love. As you relax more and more, your grasping hand gradually opens up, releasing your prized possession into My care.
Those words truly spoke to my heart. I haven't been faithful because I've allowed my anxieties to overwhelm me and rob me of the joy of motherhood. I am missing precious moments because I have been so focused on what might be instead of what is. This family truly has experienced the worst pain imaginable and yet they are still present in life's joy. I have the most beautiful baby ever (I know all parents say that, but Emma really is gorgeous and funny) and I want to enjoy every second I have to spend with her.
I do not even need to worry about controlling my anxiety. God will do that for me. He will watch over us and bless us and all we need to do is appreciate what we have.
Tonight we also will be asking God to watch over our Sasha (our 85lb boxer). She had a vet appt today and goes back tomorrow for surgery on her mouth to remove an abscess, remove 2 tumors on her shoulder, and for them to xray her leg and find out why she's been limping. Hopefully the tumors are benign and her leg is something easy to fix and not a torn ligament or bone cancer (possibilities the vet told Paul). Sasha loves her baby Emma so much and we for sure want Sasha to have the opportunity to someday play with the baby she loves so much. We will keep you posted.
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| "Where's my baby?" As soon as Sasha comes upstairs or in the house she looks for Emma |
Monday, March 28, 2011
The top 10 things I learned in my 4th week of fatherhood (by Paul)
1.We may offer Emma’s services to some diaper manufacturers for quality assurance testing. If a diaper can hold in what she produces and at the force she produces it, it’s a good diaper.
2.I should be very impressed with how much she has improved control of her hand and head movements, but my joy is dampened by the fact that she uses them to slap, claw, and head butt me.
3.The reaction you get when you tell people you are using cloth diapers is very similar to telling people you are a polygamist or devil worshipper.
4.Nothing reminds me to put on a shirt more than Emma grabbing a handful of nipple hair.
5.My favorite time of the night is when Emma sleeps on my chest.
6.As we approach the 30 day mark, it is very true about the first month. It’s all about surviving and after a month you get into a rhythm.
7.When we go places there is a mixed emotion when people look at Emma. I bounce between feeling pride and “I’ll rip your arm off if you touch her.”
8.Having a daughter changes your view on a lot of movies and TV shows.
9.I can actually be alone with Emma for a few hours and we both survive until Mommy gets back.
10.I don’t want to say my daughter is evil, but I will claim she is conniving. Example: I have been peed and pooped on before so I take measures to protect myself. She actually waited for me to start putting the new diaper on and did just enough poop to make me have to get another diaper. When I lifted her up to pull the now dirty diaper off she waited until she was aimed straight into the air and turn on her soaker. She completely cleared the edge of the changing table to go down my leg and soak my flip flop. Not dealing with this is supposed to be the benefit of having a girl!!!!
2.I should be very impressed with how much she has improved control of her hand and head movements, but my joy is dampened by the fact that she uses them to slap, claw, and head butt me.
3.The reaction you get when you tell people you are using cloth diapers is very similar to telling people you are a polygamist or devil worshipper.
4.Nothing reminds me to put on a shirt more than Emma grabbing a handful of nipple hair.
5.My favorite time of the night is when Emma sleeps on my chest.
6.As we approach the 30 day mark, it is very true about the first month. It’s all about surviving and after a month you get into a rhythm.
7.When we go places there is a mixed emotion when people look at Emma. I bounce between feeling pride and “I’ll rip your arm off if you touch her.”
8.Having a daughter changes your view on a lot of movies and TV shows.
9.I can actually be alone with Emma for a few hours and we both survive until Mommy gets back.
10.I don’t want to say my daughter is evil, but I will claim she is conniving. Example: I have been peed and pooped on before so I take measures to protect myself. She actually waited for me to start putting the new diaper on and did just enough poop to make me have to get another diaper. When I lifted her up to pull the now dirty diaper off she waited until she was aimed straight into the air and turn on her soaker. She completely cleared the edge of the changing table to go down my leg and soak my flip flop. Not dealing with this is supposed to be the benefit of having a girl!!!!
The top 10 things I learned in my 3rd week of fatherhood (by Paul)
10. When Emma cries she makes the same face as ventriloquist Jeff Dunham’s puppet Walter. http://www.jeffdunham.com/ (see photo)
9. Many times I have said “my dogs are my kids” and now I realize how wrong that was. They have similar qualities but not even close to the same thing.
8. Apparently three weeks is too young to self-soothe.
7. I said I wasn’t going to change diapers, but now I have such an intense fear of Emma getting a diaper rash or yeast infection that I check every five minutes to make sure I change her ASAP. I’m now the NASCAR pit crew of diaper changing.
6. In my first week I learned how many things you can do with one hand, this week I learned putting the lid on a bottle should not be one of them. Don’t worry a breast milk bath is good for a baby’s skin.
5. Anyone that says “sleep when Emma sleeps” must have great control of their own narcolepsy.
4. Don’t let the cute face full you. The one time Emma was calm and cooperative during a diaper change, she was just drawing me into a trap. Once I let my guard down she peed and sharted on me. If you don’t know what sharting is, she farted and shot poop at me!
3. Anyone who says that a baby can only see 6-12 inches away has not seen Emma’s face light up at the sight of Jenn’s boob from across the room.
2. No matter how hard I try I am going to get on Jenn’s nerves. I think it is jealousy because I can immediately fall asleep when I have a chance. That military basic training is coming in handy.
1. We ran into a pregnant woman in the mall and she asked us some questions about having a baby. It’s actually pretty amazing how much we already know.
9. Many times I have said “my dogs are my kids” and now I realize how wrong that was. They have similar qualities but not even close to the same thing.
8. Apparently three weeks is too young to self-soothe.
7. I said I wasn’t going to change diapers, but now I have such an intense fear of Emma getting a diaper rash or yeast infection that I check every five minutes to make sure I change her ASAP. I’m now the NASCAR pit crew of diaper changing.
6. In my first week I learned how many things you can do with one hand, this week I learned putting the lid on a bottle should not be one of them. Don’t worry a breast milk bath is good for a baby’s skin.
5. Anyone that says “sleep when Emma sleeps” must have great control of their own narcolepsy.
4. Don’t let the cute face full you. The one time Emma was calm and cooperative during a diaper change, she was just drawing me into a trap. Once I let my guard down she peed and sharted on me. If you don’t know what sharting is, she farted and shot poop at me!
3. Anyone who says that a baby can only see 6-12 inches away has not seen Emma’s face light up at the sight of Jenn’s boob from across the room.
2. No matter how hard I try I am going to get on Jenn’s nerves. I think it is jealousy because I can immediately fall asleep when I have a chance. That military basic training is coming in handy.
1. We ran into a pregnant woman in the mall and she asked us some questions about having a baby. It’s actually pretty amazing how much we already know.
Leap of Faith
I have come to realize that parenting, much like marriage, is a leap of faith. When I met my hubby I wasn't looking for marriage. I wasn't even looking for a relationship. Given the years of atrocious experiences I'd had dating I was only expecting to get a funny blog out of the situation (remember I was the woman who went on a date with the guy who didn't know he was gay, the guy who was dating my friend x3...I could write a book on my bad dates) so when I opened the door to my hubby it was a huge leap of faith to let my guard down and open myself up to a relationship. Although given the speed in which I feel head over heels in love it wasn't much of a leap...it was more of a full fledged swan dive off a cliff. Praise God for sending me a good guy to fall in love with.
So, fast forward a few years till 2010. We made the decision to become parents. Certainly not a decision we made lightly especially given that we are living far away from our families and knew we'd have to rely on friends as our primary support system. We never expected that our first pregnancy would end in miscarriage and we weathered that storm as best we could. We got pregnant again a few months later and a LONG 41 weeks later we finally got to meet our baby girl.
Talk about a leap of faith. If getting married was a swan dive off a cliff then parenthood was skydiving out of the space shuttle. Not only do you have to have faith that you will survive the first month (everyone says the first month is the hardest and for sure I have found that experience to be true, but that sleep when the baby sleeps is a load of crap), but I believe you have to have faith that your baby will survive, too. If you've read my other posts then you know that I have been plagued by anxiety regarding SIDS. It takes huge amounts of faith for me to close my eyes and sleep at night and every morning my first though is "phew, made it through another night. Thank God." I pray like I've never prayed before in my life. I pray for God to watch over our baby girl and for her not to die of SIDS (I believe sometimes you gotta be specific in your prayers and put that out into the universe) and for Paul & I to be good parents.
So we have survived the first 4 weeks of parenting. To say we've gotten into a rhythm may be a stretch; however, we certainly have gotten more comfortable. Emma is growing well now (she's up to 9lbs--yay!) and the pediatric nurse said we could start to let her sleep longer at night (not that I will sleep well yet. I did just order a Snuza instead of the Angelcare movement monitor as Paul does want us to put Emma in her crib eventually aka before she's 8).
May our next 4 weeks be as blessed as these first 4 weeks have been.
So, fast forward a few years till 2010. We made the decision to become parents. Certainly not a decision we made lightly especially given that we are living far away from our families and knew we'd have to rely on friends as our primary support system. We never expected that our first pregnancy would end in miscarriage and we weathered that storm as best we could. We got pregnant again a few months later and a LONG 41 weeks later we finally got to meet our baby girl.
Talk about a leap of faith. If getting married was a swan dive off a cliff then parenthood was skydiving out of the space shuttle. Not only do you have to have faith that you will survive the first month (everyone says the first month is the hardest and for sure I have found that experience to be true, but that sleep when the baby sleeps is a load of crap), but I believe you have to have faith that your baby will survive, too. If you've read my other posts then you know that I have been plagued by anxiety regarding SIDS. It takes huge amounts of faith for me to close my eyes and sleep at night and every morning my first though is "phew, made it through another night. Thank God." I pray like I've never prayed before in my life. I pray for God to watch over our baby girl and for her not to die of SIDS (I believe sometimes you gotta be specific in your prayers and put that out into the universe) and for Paul & I to be good parents.
So we have survived the first 4 weeks of parenting. To say we've gotten into a rhythm may be a stretch; however, we certainly have gotten more comfortable. Emma is growing well now (she's up to 9lbs--yay!) and the pediatric nurse said we could start to let her sleep longer at night (not that I will sleep well yet. I did just order a Snuza instead of the Angelcare movement monitor as Paul does want us to put Emma in her crib eventually aka before she's 8).
May our next 4 weeks be as blessed as these first 4 weeks have been.
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
3 weeks 3 days old
Hallaleujah! Our little miss Emma is finally putting on some weight. She is not yet back to birth weight, but she is up to 8lbs 9oz. That is a huge jump from the 8lbs 4oz she was on Friday (we got her re-weighed on Monday) and we don't have to go back until her 2 month well baby. We probably will go get her weight checked at some point in the next 2 weeks just to make sure she is still going strong, but we can tell she is getting bigger and taller (up to 21 inches).
I feel like I'm settling more into motherhood. Yes, I am still have periods of anxiety and yes, I still get teary eyed (I try not to let myself go too much into the crying and anxiety), but I have high hopes for the zoloft I'm now taking. My plan is to just take it to get me through this time in my life...having a new baby, knowing that each day is another day closer to my hubby being deployed.
Sometimes I am not sure how I am going to take care of a baby and the dogs and a cat and the house with my hubby gone. He for sure keeps me focused and is a huge help and partner. Heck, I'm not even sure how I'm going to manage things when he goes back to work! That in itself seems overwhelming to me. Sometimes I wonder "What am I gonna do with a newborn all day?" I think the key will be to not put too much pressure on myself. If I get a few minutes to clean the house I'll clean the house. If Emma & I want to take a nap we'll take a nap. As long as Emma is thriving and our marriage is thriving then the rest is just icing on the cake.
My baby has been super cuddly this evening. Probably because I haven't given her much choice. hehe She was fussing and I've been wanting to try out my Sweet Pea Ring Sling so I picked her up and stuck her into it. I need to work on being able to adjust it after she's in it, but for our purposes of snuggling tonight it worked just fine. Plus it's beautiful http://www.sweetpearingsling.com/starling.htm. Within 5 minutes she stopped screaming her head off and fell asleep. I love having her close to me and can't stop kissing her little head, her perfect tiny nose, and chubby little cheeks. Plus there is nothing better than baby smell.
In non baby news I think I need to go get my eyes checked. My vision has been a little blurry and I haven't been to an eye doctor since I had my laser eye surgery oh um like 10 years ago. Awful I know.
Hard to believe our little Emma will be 4 weeks old this Saturday. I feel like we should have a party for surviving the first month. I'm definitely going to treat myself to a glass of wine if I can swing it in between breastfeeding.
Gotta run. Going to be time to feed the piglet soon. Hopefully she'll not want to eat all night like our last night every hour feedings until 2:30am. Our lactation consultant said she could be going through a growth spurt although today she has not eaten that much and has slept a lot so who knows. Her Auntie Cory is coming tomorrow and we are so excited!
I feel like I'm settling more into motherhood. Yes, I am still have periods of anxiety and yes, I still get teary eyed (I try not to let myself go too much into the crying and anxiety), but I have high hopes for the zoloft I'm now taking. My plan is to just take it to get me through this time in my life...having a new baby, knowing that each day is another day closer to my hubby being deployed.
Sometimes I am not sure how I am going to take care of a baby and the dogs and a cat and the house with my hubby gone. He for sure keeps me focused and is a huge help and partner. Heck, I'm not even sure how I'm going to manage things when he goes back to work! That in itself seems overwhelming to me. Sometimes I wonder "What am I gonna do with a newborn all day?" I think the key will be to not put too much pressure on myself. If I get a few minutes to clean the house I'll clean the house. If Emma & I want to take a nap we'll take a nap. As long as Emma is thriving and our marriage is thriving then the rest is just icing on the cake.
My baby has been super cuddly this evening. Probably because I haven't given her much choice. hehe She was fussing and I've been wanting to try out my Sweet Pea Ring Sling so I picked her up and stuck her into it. I need to work on being able to adjust it after she's in it, but for our purposes of snuggling tonight it worked just fine. Plus it's beautiful http://www.sweetpearingsling.com/starling.htm. Within 5 minutes she stopped screaming her head off and fell asleep. I love having her close to me and can't stop kissing her little head, her perfect tiny nose, and chubby little cheeks. Plus there is nothing better than baby smell.
In non baby news I think I need to go get my eyes checked. My vision has been a little blurry and I haven't been to an eye doctor since I had my laser eye surgery oh um like 10 years ago. Awful I know.
Hard to believe our little Emma will be 4 weeks old this Saturday. I feel like we should have a party for surviving the first month. I'm definitely going to treat myself to a glass of wine if I can swing it in between breastfeeding.
Gotta run. Going to be time to feed the piglet soon. Hopefully she'll not want to eat all night like our last night every hour feedings until 2:30am. Our lactation consultant said she could be going through a growth spurt although today she has not eaten that much and has slept a lot so who knows. Her Auntie Cory is coming tomorrow and we are so excited!
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
Breastfeeding
Breastfeeding...a magical time for mother and child to bond in the most primitive and natural of ways. What could be more beautiful than mother supplying her child with life sustaining nourishment? Ahhhh....
I was and continue to be determined to breastfeed. I asked as soon as I finished wondering why the ob was killing me and we were back in my labor room from the OR when I could breastfeed. I've talked to numerous lactation consultants (FYI every consultant has their own ways of doing things...be prepared to hear a lot of different opinions and use what works for you) and am going to start attending a breastfeeding group run by my hospital probably next week.
Why you may wonder when it seems like the breastfeeding is going so well. Well, it's going okay. So well may be a stretch. Originally in the hospital they started me using a nipple shield because while newborns don't have any teeth they can tear some sh*t up with their gums (another thing no one tells you) and I was bleeding. The nipple shield made it easier for me and less painful. And for some reason they had us supplement with formula. Then I couldn't breastfeed for 24 hours due to the iodine they used during my CAT scan (FYI when you get iodine through an IV it feels like you've just drank a huge glass of whiskey except without the pleasant drunk feeling--your whole body warms from chest down until it feels like you've peed yourself except you didn't). During those 24 hours Emma was given formula exclusively and I pumped to keep things moving in the milk department. Do you know how hard it is to pump in the ICU? Although I had a "private" room (FYI privacy in the ICU has a different meaning--yes, I had a curtain I could close over the glass doors to my room, but the curtain left a 2 foot gap on each side so anyone walking by could walk in and see me pumping or peeing) most of the nurses had no idea what a breast pump was and the lure of sleeping through the night lured me more than pumping. I think I pumped once during the night and once first thing in the morning when I was in the ICU. Slacker.
So, we soldiered on with our feeding and formula plan and it seemed like things were going well. We had our first weight check after we got out of the hospital and Emma had lost weight (down to 7lbs 14oz from the 8lbs 5oz she was when we left the hospital which was down from the 8lbs 11oz she was when she was born--luckily I knew that babies lost weight and did not freak out) so they put us on a 2 hour feeding plan with supplementing and had us come back 2 days later (FYI for those without kids a 2 hour feeding plan essentially means you are feeding or pumping all the time because you time it from the start of one feeding to the start of the next feeding so if you feed at 8pm you next feed at 10pm and on and on...exhausting!).
When we went back Emma was up to 8lbs 2oz. We felt good about that until we went back on Friday and she hadn't gained any more weight, but luckily she hadn't lost weight either. We met with the lactation consultant and the pediatrician and came up with a plan to supplement every other feeding and to let her sleep up to 4 hours at night. Yay!
But our sweet little Emma now prefers the bottle to the breast. Even though we primarily supplement with breast milk (yay pumping j/k) she can be so much lazier on the bottle. And we have found that our little Emma is a lazy eater. The breast she primarily uses as a giant pacifier (I wish she'd figure out how to use a real pacifier) and falls asleep as soon as she starts breastfeeding no matter how hungry and how fussy she is before we start.
So, tomorrow we will get her weight checked again (if she's lost weight or hasn't gained I will probably have a melt down in the doctor's office--thank God I have my post-partum depression check up while we are there, too--I do not want the pediatrician to have to call social services on us and report us for failure to thrive baby--seriously I have worried obsessively about this the past few days) and I will call the lactation consultant and wait for next week's breastfeeding class so I can re-teach Emma to breastfeed instead of loving the bottle.
And I realized today that despite the 5 months I spent on bedrest researching every baby item under the sun I spent no time researching what to do once the baby actually got here! Not a good use of those months I'd say. Dang it.
I was and continue to be determined to breastfeed. I asked as soon as I finished wondering why the ob was killing me and we were back in my labor room from the OR when I could breastfeed. I've talked to numerous lactation consultants (FYI every consultant has their own ways of doing things...be prepared to hear a lot of different opinions and use what works for you) and am going to start attending a breastfeeding group run by my hospital probably next week.
Why you may wonder when it seems like the breastfeeding is going so well. Well, it's going okay. So well may be a stretch. Originally in the hospital they started me using a nipple shield because while newborns don't have any teeth they can tear some sh*t up with their gums (another thing no one tells you) and I was bleeding. The nipple shield made it easier for me and less painful. And for some reason they had us supplement with formula. Then I couldn't breastfeed for 24 hours due to the iodine they used during my CAT scan (FYI when you get iodine through an IV it feels like you've just drank a huge glass of whiskey except without the pleasant drunk feeling--your whole body warms from chest down until it feels like you've peed yourself except you didn't). During those 24 hours Emma was given formula exclusively and I pumped to keep things moving in the milk department. Do you know how hard it is to pump in the ICU? Although I had a "private" room (FYI privacy in the ICU has a different meaning--yes, I had a curtain I could close over the glass doors to my room, but the curtain left a 2 foot gap on each side so anyone walking by could walk in and see me pumping or peeing) most of the nurses had no idea what a breast pump was and the lure of sleeping through the night lured me more than pumping. I think I pumped once during the night and once first thing in the morning when I was in the ICU. Slacker.
So, we soldiered on with our feeding and formula plan and it seemed like things were going well. We had our first weight check after we got out of the hospital and Emma had lost weight (down to 7lbs 14oz from the 8lbs 5oz she was when we left the hospital which was down from the 8lbs 11oz she was when she was born--luckily I knew that babies lost weight and did not freak out) so they put us on a 2 hour feeding plan with supplementing and had us come back 2 days later (FYI for those without kids a 2 hour feeding plan essentially means you are feeding or pumping all the time because you time it from the start of one feeding to the start of the next feeding so if you feed at 8pm you next feed at 10pm and on and on...exhausting!).
When we went back Emma was up to 8lbs 2oz. We felt good about that until we went back on Friday and she hadn't gained any more weight, but luckily she hadn't lost weight either. We met with the lactation consultant and the pediatrician and came up with a plan to supplement every other feeding and to let her sleep up to 4 hours at night. Yay!
But our sweet little Emma now prefers the bottle to the breast. Even though we primarily supplement with breast milk (yay pumping j/k) she can be so much lazier on the bottle. And we have found that our little Emma is a lazy eater. The breast she primarily uses as a giant pacifier (I wish she'd figure out how to use a real pacifier) and falls asleep as soon as she starts breastfeeding no matter how hungry and how fussy she is before we start.
So, tomorrow we will get her weight checked again (if she's lost weight or hasn't gained I will probably have a melt down in the doctor's office--thank God I have my post-partum depression check up while we are there, too--I do not want the pediatrician to have to call social services on us and report us for failure to thrive baby--seriously I have worried obsessively about this the past few days) and I will call the lactation consultant and wait for next week's breastfeeding class so I can re-teach Emma to breastfeed instead of loving the bottle.
And I realized today that despite the 5 months I spent on bedrest researching every baby item under the sun I spent no time researching what to do once the baby actually got here! Not a good use of those months I'd say. Dang it.
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
Today
Today was a day filled with doubt and joy. Today was a day where hopelessness and hopefullness met...the numbness inside lifted by sweet baby kisses and big baby blue eyes and snuggling. The sweet scents of my little one fill my nose as she nestles inside the wrap, asleep on my chest. Looking down and seeing her beautiful face gives me peace like nothing else and for a moment the anxiety goes away. Today was a day in which Emma didn't breastfeed much, but I did pump and Paul fed her the bottles. Today was a day that I got out of bed at a decent time, showered, fed my baby, and she slept while we ate at our favorite breakfast place. Today was a day that we went to Target and I felt overwhelmed by our outing and by my house being a pig sty. Today was a day that I only got teary eyed a few times and only cried once when making dinner seemed like a lot to do, but I did it and I got through it. Today was a day in which I realized that I haven't been asking Paul for help as much as I should because I still feel like I'm not doing enough. Today was a day in which we gave our munchkin her first real bath and she loved it and I loved seeing her enjoy it.
Today was a day that I survived. I didn't let anxiety overcome me and I didn't give in to all the tears I felt. Today.
And tomorrow I will do it all again.
Today was a day that I survived. I didn't let anxiety overcome me and I didn't give in to all the tears I felt. Today.
And tomorrow I will do it all again.
Monday, March 14, 2011
Supermom: A story of post-partum depression
I thought I could be a supermom. When I envisioned my post pregnancy life I envisioned myself doing it all...taking care of baby, cloth diapering, laundry put away, house clean, breastfeeding, exercising, babywearing, hair & make up did, smile on my face. Yes, my vision was basically that of a 1950's housewife except without the high heels, dress, and apron (okay, an apron might be cool, but the dress and heels might be pushing it).
What I didn't envision was the overwhelming feelings of failure that I would have when I couldn't do it all. My labor and delivery was long and painful (imagine 48 hours in the hospital with 3 failed induction attempts and 2 failed epidurals, followed by an unplanned c-section when both baby & I started to struggle that was extremely painful due to the failed epidurals) and then a couple days later I went into SVT and had to spend the night on another floor hooked up to heart monitors. My pregnancy was 5 months of bedrest so very little could diminish my joy at finally having given birth.
The relief I felt to be okay and to be healthy sustained me through the rest of my week (yes, 7 days I was in the hospital) in the mother baby unit. My husband had to go home at night (we didn't anticipate being there so long) and I felt no guilt about sending the baby to the nursery so I could sleep. In fact I felt grateful to have the nursery staff there to watch over my sweet little girl at night so I could get some sleep. I missed her tremendously (the night in the ICU about killed me from missing her even though they brought her down several times so I could see her) and I always felt so happy to see her when she arrived for her middle of the night feedings. Even when she cried and fussed from 3am on one night I was just so happy to be with my baby that I didn't care.
I was ill prepared for what would happen when I got home though. I knew women suffered from post-partum depression, but I was certain it would NOT happen to me. After all I was going to be a super mom. I was blessed enough to be able to stay home and to have my hubby take a month off work.
Once we got home the anxiety started almost immediately except I didn't recognize it as anxiety. I thought it was from the SVT. I know that it is my sheer will power that is keeping our daughter alive. I didn't tell anyone how I felt because I'm a clinical social worker. I coach people all the time on how to handle anxiety. I know all the tricks. But none of those tricks helped. I would find myself crawling to the end of the bed throughout the night to peer over the footboard, reach down to touch her, and make sure she was breathing. Despite the pain of having a c-section I did this time after time, night after night. We finally had to buy a co-sleeper because I could not sleep even with her only 5 feet from me. I needed her right next to me so I could peek at her, touch her if I needed to, and it helped a little. I was able to get more than a few minutes sleep at a time. Then the crying started. Okay, so maybe I had a touch of post-partum blues, but I was not giving in to depression because that would mean I wasn't supermom.
Then I came across a blog about a couple who had recently lost their 4 1/2 month old daughter to SIDS and I spent the rest of the day crying. Suddenly I could no longer attribute the pain in my chest to lingering issues from the SVT. I admitted to myself that the feeling of having a heart attack all day every day was truly due to anxiety. I cried and my poor husband just stared at me, wanting to help, not really sure what was wrong because I hadn't confided in him, and we both were chalking everything up to being hormonal.
I know the symptoms of depression: the lack of appetite, the loss of interest, feeling hopeless, on and on. I could go down the check list of depression and check them all off. I am bonding with my baby, but sometimes I just want to have 5 minutes to check my Facebook or read my book or 5 whole hours to sleep and not feed her every 2 hours I have not experienced the joy of motherhood that I see in other people and I feel ungrateful. My baby girl is perfect. The love I feel for her is amazing, but my prayers at night have started taking on a fervent quality as I beg God to not let SIDS effect our lives. I became obsessed, asking the pediatrician about it, looking up prevention on the internet, and worrying. I check to make sure the baby is breathing all the time.
I am not supermom. I am the farthest thing from it and every day my symptoms have gotten a little worse and yet I still did not tell the pediatrician or my ob during my 2 week check up. Finally I could no longer deny what I am feeling. I told my husband in a bout of crying one day how awful I feel. I am tired of being so anxious all the time. I am tired of being depressed. I am tired of crying. And as much as I didn't want to take any medications I finally called for an appointment with my PCP because I am afraid of where I may end up if I don't get help.
It is okay to not be supermom. It is okay to admit that things are overwhelming. It is okay to admit that I am sad and tired and at a loss. It is okay to want 5 minutes for myself. It is okay to be scared.
Here I am. Waiting to hear when my appointment is. Relieved at having taken this step towards regaining my health and loving my baby and my husband. I know that at some point I will be the mom I want to be. I will settle into motherhood, the baby will settle into her life, and we will have a routine, but to think that this will all occur immediately after giving birth was putting too much pressure on myself.
So screw you Tom Cruise. Post-partum depression is real and women should not feel that they are lacking as mothers or suffer in silence if they experience it. And hopefully the more women that speak up and share their stories, the more women will ask for help without embarrassment.
What I didn't envision was the overwhelming feelings of failure that I would have when I couldn't do it all. My labor and delivery was long and painful (imagine 48 hours in the hospital with 3 failed induction attempts and 2 failed epidurals, followed by an unplanned c-section when both baby & I started to struggle that was extremely painful due to the failed epidurals) and then a couple days later I went into SVT and had to spend the night on another floor hooked up to heart monitors. My pregnancy was 5 months of bedrest so very little could diminish my joy at finally having given birth.
The relief I felt to be okay and to be healthy sustained me through the rest of my week (yes, 7 days I was in the hospital) in the mother baby unit. My husband had to go home at night (we didn't anticipate being there so long) and I felt no guilt about sending the baby to the nursery so I could sleep. In fact I felt grateful to have the nursery staff there to watch over my sweet little girl at night so I could get some sleep. I missed her tremendously (the night in the ICU about killed me from missing her even though they brought her down several times so I could see her) and I always felt so happy to see her when she arrived for her middle of the night feedings. Even when she cried and fussed from 3am on one night I was just so happy to be with my baby that I didn't care.
I was ill prepared for what would happen when I got home though. I knew women suffered from post-partum depression, but I was certain it would NOT happen to me. After all I was going to be a super mom. I was blessed enough to be able to stay home and to have my hubby take a month off work.
Once we got home the anxiety started almost immediately except I didn't recognize it as anxiety. I thought it was from the SVT. I know that it is my sheer will power that is keeping our daughter alive. I didn't tell anyone how I felt because I'm a clinical social worker. I coach people all the time on how to handle anxiety. I know all the tricks. But none of those tricks helped. I would find myself crawling to the end of the bed throughout the night to peer over the footboard, reach down to touch her, and make sure she was breathing. Despite the pain of having a c-section I did this time after time, night after night. We finally had to buy a co-sleeper because I could not sleep even with her only 5 feet from me. I needed her right next to me so I could peek at her, touch her if I needed to, and it helped a little. I was able to get more than a few minutes sleep at a time. Then the crying started. Okay, so maybe I had a touch of post-partum blues, but I was not giving in to depression because that would mean I wasn't supermom.
Then I came across a blog about a couple who had recently lost their 4 1/2 month old daughter to SIDS and I spent the rest of the day crying. Suddenly I could no longer attribute the pain in my chest to lingering issues from the SVT. I admitted to myself that the feeling of having a heart attack all day every day was truly due to anxiety. I cried and my poor husband just stared at me, wanting to help, not really sure what was wrong because I hadn't confided in him, and we both were chalking everything up to being hormonal.
I know the symptoms of depression: the lack of appetite, the loss of interest, feeling hopeless, on and on. I could go down the check list of depression and check them all off. I am bonding with my baby, but sometimes I just want to have 5 minutes to check my Facebook or read my book or 5 whole hours to sleep and not feed her every 2 hours I have not experienced the joy of motherhood that I see in other people and I feel ungrateful. My baby girl is perfect. The love I feel for her is amazing, but my prayers at night have started taking on a fervent quality as I beg God to not let SIDS effect our lives. I became obsessed, asking the pediatrician about it, looking up prevention on the internet, and worrying. I check to make sure the baby is breathing all the time.
I am not supermom. I am the farthest thing from it and every day my symptoms have gotten a little worse and yet I still did not tell the pediatrician or my ob during my 2 week check up. Finally I could no longer deny what I am feeling. I told my husband in a bout of crying one day how awful I feel. I am tired of being so anxious all the time. I am tired of being depressed. I am tired of crying. And as much as I didn't want to take any medications I finally called for an appointment with my PCP because I am afraid of where I may end up if I don't get help.
It is okay to not be supermom. It is okay to admit that things are overwhelming. It is okay to admit that I am sad and tired and at a loss. It is okay to want 5 minutes for myself. It is okay to be scared.
Here I am. Waiting to hear when my appointment is. Relieved at having taken this step towards regaining my health and loving my baby and my husband. I know that at some point I will be the mom I want to be. I will settle into motherhood, the baby will settle into her life, and we will have a routine, but to think that this will all occur immediately after giving birth was putting too much pressure on myself.
So screw you Tom Cruise. Post-partum depression is real and women should not feel that they are lacking as mothers or suffer in silence if they experience it. And hopefully the more women that speak up and share their stories, the more women will ask for help without embarrassment.
Saturday, March 12, 2011
Here are the top 10 things I've learned in my 2nd week of fatherhood (by Paul)
10. I already have the ability to sleep through Emma crying even though she sleeps literally 6 inches from my ear. My wife is not a fan of this development.
9. Parenting is an art not a science. No two people parent the same way, but yet neither are wrong.
8. The 2nd happiest moment so far after her birth is when her cord finally fell off. That thing was disgusting.
7. Having a kid seems like you are joining a club. (I stole this from my buddy Jon) You all of a sudden have a bunch in common with people you never talked to before.
6. Emma sometimes gets so frustrated that she can’t cry, but instead makes the sound of the Predator. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OQwA14YWdqA
5. When Jenn pumps I cheer for her milk production like it’s a football game. As of now 2 oz is a touchdown!
4. Apparently Emma smells like a Milkbone, because dogs love to smell and lick her.
3. We spent 4 days taking care of Emma in the hospital with nothing but a bassinet on wheels, three t-shirts, and four blankets. Now we have a crib, pack n play, swing, bouncy seat, co-sleeper, changing table, and a dresser full of clothes and blankets. This should make life easier, but I’m not sure it really does.
2. I have spent two weeks examining her poop for frequency, amount, color, and texture. You can chalk that up as something I never thought I would do.
1. My daughter is the cutest, smartest, and most advanced of any baby ever. This is apparently a shared belief of every new parent.
9. Parenting is an art not a science. No two people parent the same way, but yet neither are wrong.
8. The 2nd happiest moment so far after her birth is when her cord finally fell off. That thing was disgusting.
7. Having a kid seems like you are joining a club. (I stole this from my buddy Jon) You all of a sudden have a bunch in common with people you never talked to before.
6. Emma sometimes gets so frustrated that she can’t cry, but instead makes the sound of the Predator. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OQwA14YWdqA
5. When Jenn pumps I cheer for her milk production like it’s a football game. As of now 2 oz is a touchdown!
4. Apparently Emma smells like a Milkbone, because dogs love to smell and lick her.
3. We spent 4 days taking care of Emma in the hospital with nothing but a bassinet on wheels, three t-shirts, and four blankets. Now we have a crib, pack n play, swing, bouncy seat, co-sleeper, changing table, and a dresser full of clothes and blankets. This should make life easier, but I’m not sure it really does.
2. I have spent two weeks examining her poop for frequency, amount, color, and texture. You can chalk that up as something I never thought I would do.
1. My daughter is the cutest, smartest, and most advanced of any baby ever. This is apparently a shared belief of every new parent.
Here are the top 10 things I've learned in my first week of fatherhood (by Paul)
10. I am quickly finding out how much you can do with one arm. I feel as though I’ve been wasting so much potential using two arms all these years.
9. Expectant parents are told not to bring the new baby around lots of people, but all you want to do is show her off. Of course that is because your baby is always the cutest and smartest baby ever.
8. Newborns are not nearly as fragile as I thought they were. This was proven by watching the doctor carry Emma upside down by one leg across the operating room when she was born.
7. I thought I was the biggest fan of Jenn’s boobs, but apparently I’m a very distant second.
6. Crying babies used to annoy me, but Emma’s cry just makes me smile and laugh. I’m sure I’ll get over that joy at some point.
5. Boob juice has the same influence on a baby that tequila has on an alcoholic.
4. The amount going into her diaper far exceeds the amount that goes into her mouth. This is against all laws of physics.
3. I actually said “thank god she isn’t a boy.” In the spirit of full disclosure it was right after she peed on me while changing her diaper. A boy probably would have gotten me in the face.
2. No matter how much you love your wife, husband, mother, father, sister, brother, grandmother or grandfather it is no match for how much you instantly love your baby.
1. Jenn bakes a pretty good bun in her oven!!
9. Expectant parents are told not to bring the new baby around lots of people, but all you want to do is show her off. Of course that is because your baby is always the cutest and smartest baby ever.
8. Newborns are not nearly as fragile as I thought they were. This was proven by watching the doctor carry Emma upside down by one leg across the operating room when she was born.
7. I thought I was the biggest fan of Jenn’s boobs, but apparently I’m a very distant second.
6. Crying babies used to annoy me, but Emma’s cry just makes me smile and laugh. I’m sure I’ll get over that joy at some point.
5. Boob juice has the same influence on a baby that tequila has on an alcoholic.
4. The amount going into her diaper far exceeds the amount that goes into her mouth. This is against all laws of physics.
3. I actually said “thank god she isn’t a boy.” In the spirit of full disclosure it was right after she peed on me while changing her diaper. A boy probably would have gotten me in the face.
2. No matter how much you love your wife, husband, mother, father, sister, brother, grandmother or grandfather it is no match for how much you instantly love your baby.
1. Jenn bakes a pretty good bun in her oven!!
In Retrospect
In retrospect looking back on my pregnancy and labor and unexpected c-section delivery…I would not have changed a thing. The result of those 41 weeks is my pure bliss, the joy that lights up my life, the can’t wait for the day she smiles at me, 10 perfect fingers, 10 senor piggies, 1 Senorita Toots-a-Lot, love of my life Emma Grace.
As I nurse her she locks eyes with me and I can see the start of a smirk and I wonder what she’s thinking and if she knows how much I am in love with her.
When her daddy holds her I see perfection…both in her and in him. Love radiates around the room and I know that this little munchkin has captured both our hearts so completely.
As Sasha runs in from outside the first place she runs to is the baby swing to look for baby Emma. If she’s not there Sasha stops to get her whiff of baby before she’s off looking for her. If she is there then Sasha tries to sneak in a hundred or so kisses before we stop her. I can’t wait for the day that I can watch my Emma play with Sasha.
Seeing the look of joy on my mom’s face as we skype and she gets to see her first granddaughter for the first time.
So in retrospect…hearing Emma cry for the first time, seeing Paul cry after he saw her for the first time, giving her kisses for the first time, holding her for the first time, feeding her for the first time, snuggling, kissing, hugging, loving by far makes up for the morning sickness, the cerclage, the removal of the cerclage, the bedrest, the rest of it.
I can’t stop holding her, kissing her, cuddling her. I stare at her all day and am just in awe that this perfect little person came out of me, was born from the love Paul and I have for each other. And I look forward to spending the rest of my life with my two loves…my husband and my baby.
As I nurse her she locks eyes with me and I can see the start of a smirk and I wonder what she’s thinking and if she knows how much I am in love with her.
When her daddy holds her I see perfection…both in her and in him. Love radiates around the room and I know that this little munchkin has captured both our hearts so completely.
As Sasha runs in from outside the first place she runs to is the baby swing to look for baby Emma. If she’s not there Sasha stops to get her whiff of baby before she’s off looking for her. If she is there then Sasha tries to sneak in a hundred or so kisses before we stop her. I can’t wait for the day that I can watch my Emma play with Sasha.
Seeing the look of joy on my mom’s face as we skype and she gets to see her first granddaughter for the first time.
So in retrospect…hearing Emma cry for the first time, seeing Paul cry after he saw her for the first time, giving her kisses for the first time, holding her for the first time, feeding her for the first time, snuggling, kissing, hugging, loving by far makes up for the morning sickness, the cerclage, the removal of the cerclage, the bedrest, the rest of it.
I can’t stop holding her, kissing her, cuddling her. I stare at her all day and am just in awe that this perfect little person came out of me, was born from the love Paul and I have for each other. And I look forward to spending the rest of my life with my two loves…my husband and my baby.
Thursday, March 10, 2011
Prayers Needed
I came across this blog http://kandjstaats.blogspot.com/ and I just wanted to ask everyone to pray for this family. They recently lost their 4 1/2 month old daughter. She passed away while napping at the babysitter's house.
In reading about their profoud grief I cannot imagine the pain they are going through right now. After sobbing hysterically at the thought of experiencing such a loss and their pain I practically ran to Emma to pick her up (even though she was sleeping) and held her and kissed her and stared at her. From the instant she was placed in my arms she has become the love of my life (in addition to Paul) and the love I have for my family threatens to overwhelm me at times.
No one knows what the future holds. We can only take each day for the blessing it is and hope and pray that the Lord continues to bless us. I pray fervently every night for Emma to be healthy and for her to be kept safe and for Paul & I to be good parents to her and for us to have a long life together. I pray the same for you and your family.
In reading about their profoud grief I cannot imagine the pain they are going through right now. After sobbing hysterically at the thought of experiencing such a loss and their pain I practically ran to Emma to pick her up (even though she was sleeping) and held her and kissed her and stared at her. From the instant she was placed in my arms she has become the love of my life (in addition to Paul) and the love I have for my family threatens to overwhelm me at times.
No one knows what the future holds. We can only take each day for the blessing it is and hope and pray that the Lord continues to bless us. I pray fervently every night for Emma to be healthy and for her to be kept safe and for Paul & I to be good parents to her and for us to have a long life together. I pray the same for you and your family.
Why I, too, hate running aka for Ali
My friend Ali @ The Alitary Blog recently wrote a post about running and in honor of her I decided to repost my post about my worst 5k ever (thanks Emily & Clay).
Saturday, April 25, 2009
Must hate running aka damn 5k
I've noticed lately that everyone I know seems to be jumping onto this running bandwagon. It seems like every FB status update I see has something to do with running this many miles or that 5k or what not. And I have been just as guilty. My current attempt at running as mostly to do with my fat belly, my fear of diabetes or heart disease, and my love of food and drink. I sense that my inability to lose my fat belly is directly related to the food and drink.
I am up to 1 mile, on the treadmill, at .5 incline. Outside is a whole other story. Case in point: the Race for Charity 5k we did this morning. Obviously NOT my idea.
Our friends, Emily and Clay, are doing a missions trip to Africa and they were able to raise money at this Race for Charity 5k and somehow I said Paul and I would "run" this 5k with them. I truly feel I must have been drunk when I made that promise; however, I do like to keep my promises to my friends so...
6:45am dawned bright and much earlier than I typically like to get up on a Saturday or any other day for that matter (my usual wake up time is anywhere between 8:30am and 10am...getting a real job in Boston is SO going to SUCK). I downed half a granola bar (Paul ate the other half) and a glass of milk and off we went.
The race started at 8am and there really were not a lot of people racing. It was going to be painfully obvious who the LAST runner was; however, I feel that somehow has to be last...might as well be me.
We start off at the track at the middle school. I am highly out of breath before we get off the track onto the road portion. Emily keeps telling me to breathe in through my nose and out through my mouth. A good theory, but one that interferes with my ability to SUCK in air as fast as I possibly could. At this point I am just trying not to pass out...not even an entire mile into the race.
I tell Paul that he can go on without me and Emily sacrifices herself to stay with me. If she hadn't then I totally would've been the absolute last runner. We then get passed by a man in a wheelchair; however, we are able to overtake him...I think only because we are going uphill. Once we hit the downward side he passed us with nary a glance our way. We never caught up with him again. Yes, a man in a wheelchair beat me (I say me because I definitely held Emily back from reaching her potential which I totally appreciated).
Emily talked the entire time we ran. I tried to answer; however, when she sensed that answering her was interfering with my ability to breathe she told me I didn't have to answer her to which I grunted out my gratitude. I will say that she was an awesome running coach. Besides her impractical advice on breathing, she did motivate me to push myself and tell me what spots to walk to and what spots to run to. She guessed I ran about 75% of the time which was a lot better than I thought I would do.
To give you a guess as to how slow we were...a cop had to bring up the rear of the runners because we were on a road. I don't even think the cop car would idle as slow as we were running. Even more embarrassing is that none of the cars behind the cop could pass him so it was like we were leading a parade. Some of the cops were super nice (they were at every intersection) and would give us encouragement as we ran by (while secretly thinking what the hell are these girls doing aka hurry the fuck up I'm sure); however, eventually the cop behind us gave up and drove off.
There was a water station and anyone who knows me knows I am big into recycling. We both got cups of water and as we were running Emily drank her's and threw it on the ground. I actually stopped and looked at her with my mouth open. She assured me that they come and pick them up and I said do you promise and she said yes and I begrudgingly through my cup down. I still feel uncomfortable about it.
On the way back, around mile 2, I did not feel good. I have bad sinuses, there's a lot of phlegm involved in my airways, and Emily asked me if I was going to throw up. I did not...mostly out of sheer embarrassment at throwing up on the side of a busy road. At this point I felt like I was running through jello as my legs were moving so slow.
When we got closer to the event I said something to Emily about being surprised Paul hadn't come back for us and then he came around the corner! Emily said how blessed I am to have him and she is totally right! He ran with us the entire end. We got back to the track and slowly made our way back around towards the finish line. Mile 3 and only 2/10ths left to go. Paul told us if we sprinted we could make sub 40 so we did and came in at 39 minutes...the last ones to complete the race!
We then did a cool down lap (walking of course) and had some water and were home by 9:30am. I showered and took a nap. And when Paul woke up from his nap we went to lunch and then I went and saw the Hannah Montana movie (which was really cute so don't hate). My legs hurt so bad I had to take a bath when I got home. I still can't bend my knees, or feel my toes, but eventually my chest pains stopped. Thank god for small miracles I guess. Or maybe a large one as who knows whats going on inside there.
No, I didn't win any prizes today; however, I did get to spend 39 minutes with a great friend, have more proof of how much Paul loves me (not that I needed it) and completed the goal I set for myself. All in all, I definitely came out a winner today and what could be better than that!
Saturday, April 25, 2009
Must hate running aka damn 5k
I've noticed lately that everyone I know seems to be jumping onto this running bandwagon. It seems like every FB status update I see has something to do with running this many miles or that 5k or what not. And I have been just as guilty. My current attempt at running as mostly to do with my fat belly, my fear of diabetes or heart disease, and my love of food and drink. I sense that my inability to lose my fat belly is directly related to the food and drink.
I am up to 1 mile, on the treadmill, at .5 incline. Outside is a whole other story. Case in point: the Race for Charity 5k we did this morning. Obviously NOT my idea.
Our friends, Emily and Clay, are doing a missions trip to Africa and they were able to raise money at this Race for Charity 5k and somehow I said Paul and I would "run" this 5k with them. I truly feel I must have been drunk when I made that promise; however, I do like to keep my promises to my friends so...
6:45am dawned bright and much earlier than I typically like to get up on a Saturday or any other day for that matter (my usual wake up time is anywhere between 8:30am and 10am...getting a real job in Boston is SO going to SUCK). I downed half a granola bar (Paul ate the other half) and a glass of milk and off we went.
The race started at 8am and there really were not a lot of people racing. It was going to be painfully obvious who the LAST runner was; however, I feel that somehow has to be last...might as well be me.
We start off at the track at the middle school. I am highly out of breath before we get off the track onto the road portion. Emily keeps telling me to breathe in through my nose and out through my mouth. A good theory, but one that interferes with my ability to SUCK in air as fast as I possibly could. At this point I am just trying not to pass out...not even an entire mile into the race.
I tell Paul that he can go on without me and Emily sacrifices herself to stay with me. If she hadn't then I totally would've been the absolute last runner. We then get passed by a man in a wheelchair; however, we are able to overtake him...I think only because we are going uphill. Once we hit the downward side he passed us with nary a glance our way. We never caught up with him again. Yes, a man in a wheelchair beat me (I say me because I definitely held Emily back from reaching her potential which I totally appreciated).
Emily talked the entire time we ran. I tried to answer; however, when she sensed that answering her was interfering with my ability to breathe she told me I didn't have to answer her to which I grunted out my gratitude. I will say that she was an awesome running coach. Besides her impractical advice on breathing, she did motivate me to push myself and tell me what spots to walk to and what spots to run to. She guessed I ran about 75% of the time which was a lot better than I thought I would do.
To give you a guess as to how slow we were...a cop had to bring up the rear of the runners because we were on a road. I don't even think the cop car would idle as slow as we were running. Even more embarrassing is that none of the cars behind the cop could pass him so it was like we were leading a parade. Some of the cops were super nice (they were at every intersection) and would give us encouragement as we ran by (while secretly thinking what the hell are these girls doing aka hurry the fuck up I'm sure); however, eventually the cop behind us gave up and drove off.
There was a water station and anyone who knows me knows I am big into recycling. We both got cups of water and as we were running Emily drank her's and threw it on the ground. I actually stopped and looked at her with my mouth open. She assured me that they come and pick them up and I said do you promise and she said yes and I begrudgingly through my cup down. I still feel uncomfortable about it.
On the way back, around mile 2, I did not feel good. I have bad sinuses, there's a lot of phlegm involved in my airways, and Emily asked me if I was going to throw up. I did not...mostly out of sheer embarrassment at throwing up on the side of a busy road. At this point I felt like I was running through jello as my legs were moving so slow.
When we got closer to the event I said something to Emily about being surprised Paul hadn't come back for us and then he came around the corner! Emily said how blessed I am to have him and she is totally right! He ran with us the entire end. We got back to the track and slowly made our way back around towards the finish line. Mile 3 and only 2/10ths left to go. Paul told us if we sprinted we could make sub 40 so we did and came in at 39 minutes...the last ones to complete the race!
We then did a cool down lap (walking of course) and had some water and were home by 9:30am. I showered and took a nap. And when Paul woke up from his nap we went to lunch and then I went and saw the Hannah Montana movie (which was really cute so don't hate). My legs hurt so bad I had to take a bath when I got home. I still can't bend my knees, or feel my toes, but eventually my chest pains stopped. Thank god for small miracles I guess. Or maybe a large one as who knows whats going on inside there.
No, I didn't win any prizes today; however, I did get to spend 39 minutes with a great friend, have more proof of how much Paul loves me (not that I needed it) and completed the goal I set for myself. All in all, I definitely came out a winner today and what could be better than that!
New Mom Anxiety
Although I have struggled with anxiety in the past I've worked really hard to get that under control. Of course you'd think being a clinical social worker I'd have the under control thing down pat. I mean I do counsel people on anxiety for a living or at least I used to when I had a job. But counseling other people and counseling yourself are by far two different things. I think everyone should go to counseling and so I've spent years in counseling to work on various issues. Any time in my life that I'm struggling and want an objective opinion I head off to the therapists office (always an LCSW, never an LMHC...I'm a snob like that--and only people in those fields will know what I'm talking about lol). I have spent most of my adult life being a worst case scenario kind of person (I even have the board game) and making little plans in my head about how I'd get out of the house in case of a fire, what I'd do to save myself and my pets (pre-Emma) in case of a tornado, how I'd fight off a home invader, how I'd survive a shark attack, etc., etc. (Do you see why I like to stay busy? It keeps the crazy at bay). I really need to start doing yoga again.
So, this whole new mom thing has completely thrown me for a loop! Not only do I now worry about my heart (despite the 2 normal echocardiograms and a normal CAT scan) because I still have palpitations (which is sort of like the chicken and the egg--am I anxious b/c of the palpitations or are the palpitations b/c I'm anxious? The cardiologist also told me that it's hormonal and my heart should return to its normal rhythm once these pregnancy hormones are out of my system), but I also worry about Emma!
I mean I knew I'd worry about Emma, but I believe it is my sheer will power that is keeping her alive! Realistically I know my will power is not fueling her life. When we were in the hospital I was able to sleep b/c I knew the nursery staff would watch over her at night (and take advantage of the nursery I did even though the night I spent in the ICU I called the nursery at 2am to check on her, but they told me I could). When we brought her home I was the only one to watch over her at night. Okay, Paul is here, but he'd sleep through the fire, tornado, home invader.
I thought having Emma sleep in the pack & play bassinet at the foot of our bed would be great. Not so much. It's hard to crawl to the end of the bed, bend over the footboard, and reach down to touch her chest and make sure she's breathing when you are recovering from a c-section. Plus Paul caught me a few times and waking up to my huge ass bent over in front of him is an image that no person should have to see right now.
So, we decided to do something that I NEVER thought I'd do...co-sleep! I sort of always made fun of my friends whose 5 year old was still sleeping in bed with them (gosh I hope we don't get to that point), but I knew if I was going to get any sort of rest I needed Emma closer to me at night. We went out and bought a Summer Infant Rest Assured sleeper and Emma sleeps in our bed in between us. I still check on her through out the night (during the 2 hours that I'm not feeding her), but at least now I don't have to get out of bed to do it. And I'm not ashamed to say that I also sleep on my side facing her with my arm draped over the top of the sleeper touching her side. It's actually more comfortable than it sounds. Paul's fear is that Emma will still be sleeping in the co-sleeper when he gets back from deployment and I have to admit she just might be. But I have slept since she's started sleeping with us.
Last night my wonderful husband kept Emma downstairs with him and did a feeding with pumped milk/formula so I could go up early and get some rest (Emma had gotten up at 3am that morning and didn't go back to sleep). Having those extra few hours of sleep has made a huge difference and I actually feel almost human today. Not fully human, but almost.
Of course I dreamt about The Jersey Shore all night last night. WTF! I guess watching 2 episodes in a row yesterday was a little too much Shore. Just slightly disturbing to say the least. lol I also dreamt Paul and I got an overseas deployment with our friends Chelsea & George!
What was your new mom anxiety and how did you cope with it?
So, this whole new mom thing has completely thrown me for a loop! Not only do I now worry about my heart (despite the 2 normal echocardiograms and a normal CAT scan) because I still have palpitations (which is sort of like the chicken and the egg--am I anxious b/c of the palpitations or are the palpitations b/c I'm anxious? The cardiologist also told me that it's hormonal and my heart should return to its normal rhythm once these pregnancy hormones are out of my system), but I also worry about Emma!
I mean I knew I'd worry about Emma, but I believe it is my sheer will power that is keeping her alive! Realistically I know my will power is not fueling her life. When we were in the hospital I was able to sleep b/c I knew the nursery staff would watch over her at night (and take advantage of the nursery I did even though the night I spent in the ICU I called the nursery at 2am to check on her, but they told me I could). When we brought her home I was the only one to watch over her at night. Okay, Paul is here, but he'd sleep through the fire, tornado, home invader.
I thought having Emma sleep in the pack & play bassinet at the foot of our bed would be great. Not so much. It's hard to crawl to the end of the bed, bend over the footboard, and reach down to touch her chest and make sure she's breathing when you are recovering from a c-section. Plus Paul caught me a few times and waking up to my huge ass bent over in front of him is an image that no person should have to see right now.
So, we decided to do something that I NEVER thought I'd do...co-sleep! I sort of always made fun of my friends whose 5 year old was still sleeping in bed with them (gosh I hope we don't get to that point), but I knew if I was going to get any sort of rest I needed Emma closer to me at night. We went out and bought a Summer Infant Rest Assured sleeper and Emma sleeps in our bed in between us. I still check on her through out the night (during the 2 hours that I'm not feeding her), but at least now I don't have to get out of bed to do it. And I'm not ashamed to say that I also sleep on my side facing her with my arm draped over the top of the sleeper touching her side. It's actually more comfortable than it sounds. Paul's fear is that Emma will still be sleeping in the co-sleeper when he gets back from deployment and I have to admit she just might be. But I have slept since she's started sleeping with us.
Last night my wonderful husband kept Emma downstairs with him and did a feeding with pumped milk/formula so I could go up early and get some rest (Emma had gotten up at 3am that morning and didn't go back to sleep). Having those extra few hours of sleep has made a huge difference and I actually feel almost human today. Not fully human, but almost.
Of course I dreamt about The Jersey Shore all night last night. WTF! I guess watching 2 episodes in a row yesterday was a little too much Shore. Just slightly disturbing to say the least. lol I also dreamt Paul and I got an overseas deployment with our friends Chelsea & George!
What was your new mom anxiety and how did you cope with it?
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
Week 1 Down
I am not even sure what to write about the end of our first week of parenting. For sure we spent most of that week in the hospital due to my unexpected c-section. And for sure I think if we had to choose a word to represent how we feel it'd be a tie between love and exhaustion.
It still seems surreal that this little snuggle bunny (aka Senorita Toots-a-Lot) was the same wiggle worm that came out of my tummy. I still can't believe we have a baby. And Paul and I probably say 10,000 times a day "She's just so cute!" Cause she is just so cute.
We tried to take Emma to the pediatrician on Friday for a weight check but of course the base med group closes at noon on first Fridays for training. And of course we didn't check online to see if they were open before we drove over there. So we took Emma on Monday to get registered and for a weight check. She lost a little bit of weight and weighed in at 7lbs 14oz.
The pediatrician puts us on a 2 hour feeding schedule with pumping and supplementing so essentially our schedule is feed, pump, supplement. (Paul gives her the bottle while I pump). By the time I finish feeding and pumping we have an hour or so until the next feeding. Plus Emma hates being woken up at night (unless she is waking us up) so feedings take a long time. Last night we let her go 3 hours one stretch because we were just so exhausted.
Emma has had some good feedings today and we are hoping that her weight has increased when we go back for another weight check tomorrow. And I actually got some phone calls made that I needed to make. I'm waiting to hear back from the lactation consultant on base to answer some questions I have and help me be a better moo cow.
More tomorrow!
It still seems surreal that this little snuggle bunny (aka Senorita Toots-a-Lot) was the same wiggle worm that came out of my tummy. I still can't believe we have a baby. And Paul and I probably say 10,000 times a day "She's just so cute!" Cause she is just so cute.
We tried to take Emma to the pediatrician on Friday for a weight check but of course the base med group closes at noon on first Fridays for training. And of course we didn't check online to see if they were open before we drove over there. So we took Emma on Monday to get registered and for a weight check. She lost a little bit of weight and weighed in at 7lbs 14oz.
The pediatrician puts us on a 2 hour feeding schedule with pumping and supplementing so essentially our schedule is feed, pump, supplement. (Paul gives her the bottle while I pump). By the time I finish feeding and pumping we have an hour or so until the next feeding. Plus Emma hates being woken up at night (unless she is waking us up) so feedings take a long time. Last night we let her go 3 hours one stretch because we were just so exhausted.
Emma has had some good feedings today and we are hoping that her weight has increased when we go back for another weight check tomorrow. And I actually got some phone calls made that I needed to make. I'm waiting to hear back from the lactation consultant on base to answer some questions I have and help me be a better moo cow.
More tomorrow!
Friday, March 4, 2011
A Long Week
I finally was discharged from the hospital yesterday after a week. As happy as I thought I was to be going home it certainly was overwhelming to arrive home with an infant. I am so exhausted right now that I am not even sure that I can write a coherent blog. lol
Sunday we got to the mother baby unit around 2am or 3am or something. Sunday we pretty much hung out in the room with Emma staring at her. I couldn't believe that this tiny little person had come out of my tummy and even now it seems very surreal that they are one in the same. I think the phrase "She's so cute" has come out of each of our mouths at least 500 times a day.
Monday things got a little more intense. Our student nurse had accidentally pulled the emergency cord changing the sheets on my bed. We had plans to attend a breastfeeding class at 10:30am so I got up and took a shower (finally), brushed my hair, and even put on some make up. During my shower I was supposed to remove the bandages over my staples. Holy heck! This sh*t hurt! So, I'm standing in the shower, crying hysterically, and I asked Paul to get a nurse. Well, our student nurse gets set back to help me. Picture me standing in the shower, this poor nurse kneeling before me, trying to help pull these bandages off. It never occurs to me to turn off the shower so she is getting soaking wet. If it weren't for the foot long row of staples in my still giant, still gross belly then it would've been a scene out of a porno. haha Unbeknownst to this nurse her day was to get even more interesting.
After the shower I finally felt like a real human being again until I walked into the room to wait for Paul to put my socks on (he had gone to get me some juice) when my heart started racing to the point that I knew I was having a problem and needed to pull the emergency cord myself. Thank God Emma was in the bassinet and I wasn't holding her. The nurse asks over the speaker what is wrong and I can only get out "my heart" and all of the sudden several nurses are rushing into the room. Paul hears the alarm going off when he's on his way back from the kitchenette and laughs thinking the student nurse had pulled someone else's cord until he realized the lights were flashing outside our room.
My nurse called over a nurse from L&D to install an IV (I had just gotten my original IV removed a couple hours ago) instead of waiting on the IV response team person to get there. My heart rate was 212. The nurse is telling me to take deep breaths, I'm trying to take slow breaths, Paul is comforting Emma, and I'm crying. Paul sends Emma to the nursery and the hospitalist (what they call their doctors who work at the hospital, but not necessarily in a department I guess) comes in. He confirms that I am in SVT (ironically I had told every nurse and doctor in L&D about my SVT, but stopped telling people as soon as we got to the mother baby unit) and orders a beta blocker for me while they are trying to figure out if they can use adenosine on the mother baby unit (as they didn't have the necessary equipment up there to monitor my heart). Someone from cardiology comes up and does an EKG, they give me the beta blocker, and it slows my heart, but not enough.
A doctor and team of nurses come up from the ICU, they decide they can give me the adenosine, and they bring in the crash cart. My student nurse is standing there watching all this and I'm sure thinking "OMG they are going to stop this woman's heart." Not the day she was expected at all. I just remember her eyes being huge. haha
My ob is in the hospital (my actual OB--welcome back from vacation!) and they had her paged so she walks in carrying an edible arrangement (my sister had sent it and the volunteer was just about to walk in the room with it). They gave me the adenosine and my heart rate returns to normal.
They decided to keep me over night in a telemetry bed and of course there wasn't a private room available so they stick me in the ICU for the night. I've never been in the ICU before and that was quite the experience. I lost all dignity as they didn't want me out of bed until they did a CAT scan to rule out a blood clot or pulmonary embolism so I got to use a bed pan for the first time(or several times). I'm pretty sure those nurses were not used to having to help someone pee so much! When I was allowed out of bed I was only allowed to use a portable potty in my room. As I had glass doors and curtains that didn't close all the way modesty was out the...well, glass door as it were. I was still in so much pain from the c-section that I didn't even care.
The mother baby unit and the ICU were able to work out a plan to have Emma brought down several times so I could bond with her. Unfortunately I wasn't able to breastfeed due to the iodine contrast they used in the CAT scan, but at least I got to spend time with her. The nurses in the ICU loved Emma. She was quite the celebrity down there (as was I seeing as I was the only patient under the age of 70 as well as the only patient who was conscious) and all the nurses wanted to love on her.
It was interesting to see how the different doctors felt about the SVT. Paul ran into my high risk ob and he said it wasn't uncommon for pregnant and post-partum women to have SVT due to their high blood volume. The cardiologist just said to drink very icy water when I first had symptoms to shock my heart into beating normally (my echo and CAT scan were normal). The hospitalist and ICU doctor acted like I might die any minute. I ended up stuck in the ICU for over 24 hours, but it was reassuring to know that they were monitoring my heart (and also that they came in to check on me every 2 hours). Plus Emma got extra snuggles from the nursery staff upstairs.
I finally broke free on Tuesday morning and got to return to my sweet baby girl. She missed her mama! Paul had to return home as he couldn't stay in the ICU so he spent the nights at home until we got discharged. Emma and I had quite the sleepless nights although I did utilize the nursery as much as possible at night. My girl likes to eat so it would seem as I just returned her to the nursery and fallen asleep when they were bringing her back to eat again.
The food at the hospital was so good that I almost didn't want to leave. Emma & I are going to do mommy baby yoga there once she's a little older so I def will be eating lunch there those days. lol
We got home yesterday afternoon and Emma has already brought so much joy into our lives. She is the love of our lives.
Sunday we got to the mother baby unit around 2am or 3am or something. Sunday we pretty much hung out in the room with Emma staring at her. I couldn't believe that this tiny little person had come out of my tummy and even now it seems very surreal that they are one in the same. I think the phrase "She's so cute" has come out of each of our mouths at least 500 times a day.
Monday things got a little more intense. Our student nurse had accidentally pulled the emergency cord changing the sheets on my bed. We had plans to attend a breastfeeding class at 10:30am so I got up and took a shower (finally), brushed my hair, and even put on some make up. During my shower I was supposed to remove the bandages over my staples. Holy heck! This sh*t hurt! So, I'm standing in the shower, crying hysterically, and I asked Paul to get a nurse. Well, our student nurse gets set back to help me. Picture me standing in the shower, this poor nurse kneeling before me, trying to help pull these bandages off. It never occurs to me to turn off the shower so she is getting soaking wet. If it weren't for the foot long row of staples in my still giant, still gross belly then it would've been a scene out of a porno. haha Unbeknownst to this nurse her day was to get even more interesting.
After the shower I finally felt like a real human being again until I walked into the room to wait for Paul to put my socks on (he had gone to get me some juice) when my heart started racing to the point that I knew I was having a problem and needed to pull the emergency cord myself. Thank God Emma was in the bassinet and I wasn't holding her. The nurse asks over the speaker what is wrong and I can only get out "my heart" and all of the sudden several nurses are rushing into the room. Paul hears the alarm going off when he's on his way back from the kitchenette and laughs thinking the student nurse had pulled someone else's cord until he realized the lights were flashing outside our room.
My nurse called over a nurse from L&D to install an IV (I had just gotten my original IV removed a couple hours ago) instead of waiting on the IV response team person to get there. My heart rate was 212. The nurse is telling me to take deep breaths, I'm trying to take slow breaths, Paul is comforting Emma, and I'm crying. Paul sends Emma to the nursery and the hospitalist (what they call their doctors who work at the hospital, but not necessarily in a department I guess) comes in. He confirms that I am in SVT (ironically I had told every nurse and doctor in L&D about my SVT, but stopped telling people as soon as we got to the mother baby unit) and orders a beta blocker for me while they are trying to figure out if they can use adenosine on the mother baby unit (as they didn't have the necessary equipment up there to monitor my heart). Someone from cardiology comes up and does an EKG, they give me the beta blocker, and it slows my heart, but not enough.
A doctor and team of nurses come up from the ICU, they decide they can give me the adenosine, and they bring in the crash cart. My student nurse is standing there watching all this and I'm sure thinking "OMG they are going to stop this woman's heart." Not the day she was expected at all. I just remember her eyes being huge. haha
My ob is in the hospital (my actual OB--welcome back from vacation!) and they had her paged so she walks in carrying an edible arrangement (my sister had sent it and the volunteer was just about to walk in the room with it). They gave me the adenosine and my heart rate returns to normal.
They decided to keep me over night in a telemetry bed and of course there wasn't a private room available so they stick me in the ICU for the night. I've never been in the ICU before and that was quite the experience. I lost all dignity as they didn't want me out of bed until they did a CAT scan to rule out a blood clot or pulmonary embolism so I got to use a bed pan for the first time(or several times). I'm pretty sure those nurses were not used to having to help someone pee so much! When I was allowed out of bed I was only allowed to use a portable potty in my room. As I had glass doors and curtains that didn't close all the way modesty was out the...well, glass door as it were. I was still in so much pain from the c-section that I didn't even care.
The mother baby unit and the ICU were able to work out a plan to have Emma brought down several times so I could bond with her. Unfortunately I wasn't able to breastfeed due to the iodine contrast they used in the CAT scan, but at least I got to spend time with her. The nurses in the ICU loved Emma. She was quite the celebrity down there (as was I seeing as I was the only patient under the age of 70 as well as the only patient who was conscious) and all the nurses wanted to love on her.
It was interesting to see how the different doctors felt about the SVT. Paul ran into my high risk ob and he said it wasn't uncommon for pregnant and post-partum women to have SVT due to their high blood volume. The cardiologist just said to drink very icy water when I first had symptoms to shock my heart into beating normally (my echo and CAT scan were normal). The hospitalist and ICU doctor acted like I might die any minute. I ended up stuck in the ICU for over 24 hours, but it was reassuring to know that they were monitoring my heart (and also that they came in to check on me every 2 hours). Plus Emma got extra snuggles from the nursery staff upstairs.
I finally broke free on Tuesday morning and got to return to my sweet baby girl. She missed her mama! Paul had to return home as he couldn't stay in the ICU so he spent the nights at home until we got discharged. Emma and I had quite the sleepless nights although I did utilize the nursery as much as possible at night. My girl likes to eat so it would seem as I just returned her to the nursery and fallen asleep when they were bringing her back to eat again.
The food at the hospital was so good that I almost didn't want to leave. Emma & I are going to do mommy baby yoga there once she's a little older so I def will be eating lunch there those days. lol
We got home yesterday afternoon and Emma has already brought so much joy into our lives. She is the love of our lives.
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