Birth Story: Part 2 (Better Late than Never??)

It's a little ridonk that I'm writing this as my 12.5 week old sleeps in the other room... whoops! I'm sure I've forgotten a million details.

***I'm going to edit this tomorrow, hopefully, with E's thoughts and input and memories. ;-D
Last time I left you, they were fiiiiinally wheeling me into a L&D room from triage. I should probably reread that post but it's 2am and I'm tired and lazy. I'd gotten the epidural and it had been helping for a while- I could still feel everything, but it was less painful than before. Welp, after a few hours, that didn't feel true anymore. I'm not sure what an epidural is SUPPOSED to do, but I'd been under the impression that I wouldn't be in completely excruciating pain... and yet, I was. So there's that. I'm really good at pretending nothing's wrong around people (except for poor E), so I didn't actually bring that one up to the doctor, but I'm pretty sure something was off there.

I'm not really sure what we did next. We were in that room for hours. We didn't watch TV. We didn't listen to music... I don't think we even played with our phones. I have no idea why. We definitely should have done all of those things. I think we just hung out and talked. Which I guess is also nice? But I probably would've been calmer if I'd been distracted.

E's parents arrived first and I think they came in a talked to us and the doctor for a while. There were some awkward moments thanks to some majorly different political/world views. They all "behaved" but my brain was short-circuiting with a RED ALERT over it. Then my parents and brother arrived. I think we all hung out for a bit? It's been 3 months. Don't wait 3 months when you're writing your own birth story, k?

At one point I definitely vomited. PS- I *always* try to put 2 T's in vomited. I let it be known to everyone that I wasn't feeling well and the second everyone was out the door, E grabbed a garbage can from the bathroom and BOOM. E called the nurse, who brought me a bucket and some alcohol-free mouthwash... because that'll get the job done. I think I vomited again, and another nurse came in and took the bucket away for me. And I felt like a loser. After that I tried to nap, maybe? Unsuccessfully.

The doctor came in between 6 and 7am and suggested we try pushing. We tried once and he decided it wasn't time yet and went to get a cup of coffee because he'd delivered like 50 babies that night. That's probably definitely an exaggeration. The nurse explained HOW to push, which fun fact, is that you push like you're trying to poop. I'd been focusing on getting a baby out of my vagina, but apparently it's more like you're pooping it out. Which is super great news when your biggest stupid fear of the night has been that you'll poop during childbirth in front of a bunch of strangers and your husband. Yep. Spoiler alert: I didn't!!!

So I guess then we tried a practice push or two with the nurse, and she was like Oh, that's interesting, wow, you're doing a really great job, whatta great pusher, oh holy crap we need the doctor STAT. So he walktzed (I'm going to leave that typo in there because it's pretty perfect... walk/waltzed) back in and was shocked at my newly acquired pushing skillz. I was getting legit back-to-back contractions with practically no breaks in between at that point, and they kept asking me if I wanted to skip a contraction so I could... rest? Or something? But like I mentioned earlier, the epidural may or may not have been working, and everything hurt like a B**** and I just needed this kid out of me ASAP because I COULD NOT STAND THE PAIN.

18 minutes after I started pushing, at 7:08am, our baby boy was born. 9lbs and 22.5". Yay!

We'd been warned that since he'd probably swallowed meconium there'd be pediatricians there during the birth and he wouldn't be able to be placed on my chest or anything because they'd need to assess him. So... that happened. That was the most emotionally and mentally confusing time of my life. It literally went by in a blur AND slow motion. We had no idea what was happening. There had been a baby inside of me and now he was outside of me and now the baby was in a bassinet thing next to my bed but I still hadn't seen his face, and they were suctioning him and I think they intubated him, and my placenta was coming out and the doctor was making jokes about how he's giving me 2 stitches just as a precaution but that if I'd just given birth in a field instead of a hospital then he'd just apply pressure and that'd stop the bleeding just fine, and the pediatrician isn't telling us anything and E is trying to take a photo so I can see what my freaking baby looks like and the pediatrician is telling E to not "harrass" the baby because they need to see if his levels or breathing or something improve on their own and he's interfering.

I don't know. Everything up until that point was absolutely amazing and I'd 100% give birth in this hospital all over again, but that pediatrician really could've been a lottttttttt different and calming and helpful. Even a small word of encouragement or reassurance would've been great. But, nope. Nothing. Just a scolding.

Eventually she left and a NICU doctor came and assessed the situation and determined that the baby would have to go up to the NICU because his oxygen levels were too low. He was so sweet and reassuring and let us hold the baby for a few minutes before they took him up which obviously wasn't enough time, but it was what it was.

And then E and I were alone in the room. Just looking at each other, confused.

Soon after that, I guess we called or texted our families who were in the waiting room and I asked for my mom to come in first and we told her what had happened and.... it was super awkward? Hey, mom, congrats, it's a boy, but.... he's not here... right now...? Right. The rest of the family eventually came in and we all just kind of hung out. We texted friends and updated facebook to announce F's arrival and that kept us distracted.

[Funny story, I just went to facebook to get the exact number of "likes" our announcement had gotten, because it was something absurd like 300 or 400, and THE POST IS MISSING. What. The. Eff. It's just not there!!!!! WHYYYYYYYYYY!!!! UPDATE: I found it. 437 "likes" and 233 comments. Holy poop.]

Guys, I'm fading. Long story short, F went up to the NICU, they wheeled me up to my room, and we spent from Wednesday morning until Saturday morning going back and forth between our room on the 9th floor and the NICU on the 13th floor (maybe the other way around), over Jewish holidays where E is only able to eat inside of a hut which is on the ground floor and it's like shabbos, and the hut is outside (Thank Gd there even IS a hut/sukkah at that hospital). There were a million miscommunications between us, the NICU nurses, the NICU doctors, the lactation consultant, the other nurses, etc. One overnight NICU nurse flipped her $#!+ on us at one point because of a miscommunication and there were a LOT of tears. The baby was on an IV for the first ~24 hours and that set off a slew of issues with breastfeeding and we never quite got the hang of it but I'm still pumping and giving him everything I can plus supplementing with formula, which we had to start doing in the hospital because he was a big baby (9lbs, 22.5") and his blood sugar levels we low one time and everyone flipped and kept him in the hospital for an extra day because of it. Which, at the time, seemed like the end of the world because we were alone and sleep deprived and hormonal and traumatized and had just been severely told off by that nurse over a misunderstanding (on her part) and we were feeling like the worst parents in the world. All we wanted to do was go to our quiet little home and cuddle our baby and get to know him away from all of the NICU beeps and alarms and chaos. We spent almost all of our time down in the NICU but they closed from 7-8 am and pm for shift changes so that's when we'd pee and eat and get pain meds and vitals checked, etc before running back down to wait by the door for them to open. On one of those trips upstairs, the nurse came to routinely check my blood pressure and she happened to catch me in the middle of a minor panic attack (right after the NICU nurse incident!) and physically placed me into my bed and made me take a short nap. E told her what had just happened and she and the other nurses up there were so sweet and caring and amazing and sympathetic and angry at the other nurse on our behalf.

Oh and while F had to stay for an extra day, I was discharged so we kind of lost our "home base" (my hospital room) and had to sleep on couches in a "family room" Friday night with another woman who snored louder than anyone I've ever heard snore before. She actually drowned out the sound of E's snoring. It was that intense.

So, wow. Eventually we got to go home on Saturday. F was really not in actual major danger at any point, and I'm so beyond thankful for that. This whole thing was mostly people crossing their T's and dotting their I's and taking precautions for F. E and I really super bonded during those days since it was really just the two of us figuring things out on our own. He was already my bestie (cue the cheese) but things really, I don't know, solidified in a whole new way during those days. I'm not saying it's because of the baby. We went through (what felt like) hell during that time and came out stronger. Side note- later in our stay, the super nice NICU doctor randomly stopped us in the hallway to tell us what a great job we were doing and that he had a 6 month old at home and told us that it's so important that we take time for ourselves and our own relationship at least once a week. That really stuck with us.

Fast forward 12.5 weeks and here I am at 3am and this enormous kid (way off the charts for height and average for weight) is going to be waking up in a few hours, so I need to catch some Z's. All in all, it was a huge learning experience and we walked away with a beautiful healthy baby KA"H and that's really all that matters. I'm really glad that I finally typed this up.

Oh- and all of that running around 2 seconds after birth might've helped me heal faster, maybe? But I also had insanely swollen feet and ankles for weeks afterwards. Like scary, hideously swollen. So... whatever. I have no real advice, but if you can, keep your damn feet up. And let someone else do the dishes when you get home. Don't be a crazy person. That's all.

Mother's Day, Smother's Day

Boom.

Have I mentioned that our engagement party was on Mother's Day? Oh, right, and our wedding was shortly thereafter, on Father's Day. #FML.

Those first ones were fun and busy and exciting... but every Mother's Day and Father's Day after that have been brutal. I've felt "smothered". I've cried every year. Including this year, actually, but I'm not 100% sure why. Maybe because I'm still hurting from the past 5 years... but definitely because my heart was breaking for everyone still going through what we went through. And for the moms I know out there who have lost a child, which brings every struggle of mine to it's knees. I can't even begin to imagine.

One thought in particular ran through my head all day. Last week someone on Facebook (I knowwww) had posted a photo of a page in a book. She'd bought her daughter a kids' encyclopedia and there was a 2-page spread in it about reproduction and how babies are made. She wanted to know if others thought this was inappropriate for her 3 year old to be learning about. Like, should she wait a couple of years to tackle that subject. Fair question (in my opinon)... except...

There's ALWAYS an "except" when it come to FB, right??

So people are commenting on this picture, all giving their 2 cents, and someone pipes in with this:
"The first sentence in this book is wrong, "You need a mother and a father to make a baby." No, you need a male and a female ... any male and female.... they're not a mother and a father until a baby is born. LOL."

And then people chimed in and laughed about how "true" that is.
 
Now, listen. I didn't look up the actual definition of "mother" or "father" in a Webster's dictionary or anything.... but that sentence rubbed me the wrong way in SO. MANY. WAYS. I wrote about 50 responses to it, but never had the guts to send any of them. I just knew I wasn't going to have the energy to deal with the backlash. I'm still debating whether to send one.

But... COME THE FRICK ON. That's gotta be one of the most insensitive FB responses I've seen in a long time. It takes away the title of "mother" from such a huge group of women. Women who have had MCs. Women who have had stillbirths. Women who struggled with the decision to have an abortion. And so on and so forth. All of these women LOVED their BABIES on some level. Whether they got to spend 5 weeks with the child inside of them or 40 weeks, whether their child was ripped away from them unwillingly or even if they chose to abort it because they couldn't give it the life it deserved, there was and still is love there... and the loss of that child will stick with them for the rest of their lives. The memory of that child will haunt them forever. And, at least on some level, they will miss that baby until they die.

If none of those women are a "mother" then I don't even know what else to say.

Insensitivity Training

 I'm sitting here in my living room at 5:15am, thinking about getting ready for my RE appointment. My sleep schedule is so off it hurts. I need to break out of the nocturnal- a recurring issue for me. I'm thinking I'll take a nap when I get home from the RE, get up for awhile, take another nap (because I've got plans with friends tonight) and then go to bed between 12 and 1am. I think that'll work. We'll see.

Anyway, this has been the week of awkward comments.

Yesterday I went to my first shift at work in a long time. I've gone to a couple of trainings in the last couple of weeks but I haven't been to any actual shifts. The issue was that I had been doing morning shift (6:30am-9:30am) at a group home for women with special needs, which is great because it's time and a half. Buuuuut that's when my RE appointments are. Bloodwork is 6:30-8am. Hoorumph. Also, I was avoiding work like the plague during my 2ww because my job involves a lot of heavy lifting, and... y'know. I was scared. So whatever, I didn't have an appointment yesterday and my boss asked me if I could cover a shift, so I did. And wouldn't you know, we were severely understaffed and I ended up majorly pulling a muscle in my back. I came home and tried to sleep it off and was actually about 90% successful, but now I've been awake since 10pm. Haha. Ughhh.

While I was at work, one of my supervisors asked me if I'm just filling in during emergencies these days. I shrugged and said I guess that's pretty accurate. She looked at me incredulously and said "I don't know how you can just do nothing all day. Don't you get bored? What do you do??" Ahem. While I was picking my jaw up off the floor I had time to stop myself from slapping her. She has no freaking clue what's going on in my life, but my bosses know that I'm taking this time off because of a medical issue. Maybe she missed that memo, but c'mon. No one just sits at home all day doing nothing. And besides that, she and I are both observant Orthodox Jews. In our circles, birth control just isn't the norm. You use it if you need a break in between kids, if you have a health issue, if you don't want more kids. But we've been married for almost 5 years. People just don't put off having kids for that long around here. She absolutely knows there's an issue. And that's why her question caught me so off guard... Idk.

This past weekend I met a woman. We live in a large Jewish community where people feel very much entitled to know everyone else's business. So when I met this woman she started up with the usual 20 questions that women in the community normally ask. What's your name? What's your maiden name? Where are you from? Oh, do you know x, y and z? No? How long have you been married? 4.5 years... you don't have any children? Oh, then what do you do with your second bedroom??

Yep. Here's some advice I should take... someone from another blog (sorry I can't remember who!) posted this yesterday and it felt so fitting: