Alright, brace yourself for all kinds of negative stuff. Heck, if not here, where else can I complain about it?! Lukas and Lilli are 8 days old today, and I truly never thought this would be so difficult. I guess this is what they mean when they talk about baby blues? I feel inadequate, incompetent, and, honestly, would rather be at work. And just thinking about that makes me feel guilty and sad all over again. Vicious cycle, I know.
Where to start? Breastfeeding? Pumping? Sleeping? Recovery? Pet adjustment? Might as well start in that order.
I was so intent on breastfeeding and super excited to meet with the hospital's lactation person. Throughout my stay there, I met with a couple of different people, and although I'm sure it wasn't their intention, I felt judged by both of them. I don't remember meeting with the first because I was high on meds and really don't remember much from the second visit either. Needless to say, I really don't know how to breastfeed and neither baby is able to latch on. They are tongue-tied and have issues with latching, I do remember them telling me that; I also remember them telling me not to worry - yeah right. They told me to start using the pump (not really how often, how long, how nothing)...and just kind of wait. Great. She showed me a couple of times how to latch IF they were able to breastfeed. Well, it's all nice and dandy when you have four hands, but I have not been able to even remotely replicate what they told me to do (not that I could remember it anyways). I tried a couple of times at home, but aside from them biting my nipples, it really wasn't a successful experience. I called Madigan's lactation consultant today, and while the woman was very nice, it really just left me feeling sad. She referred me to a couple of online videos about latching and hand expression and invited me to a moms group tomorrow, where they will have lactation consultants and a pediatrician on hand. And although, I really am trying to be positive, I am less than hopeful.
This leads nicely into the pumping issue. Again, I don't remember a single person at the hospital talking to me about pumping, like are you supposed to set it to the highest setting possible, i.e. the higher = the better, how long are you supposed to pump, and how much should ideally be coming out? I have been on my own, doing little pumping (I admit) and skipping it all together during the night. I'm just so tired from getting up and formula-feeding that I can't imagine pumping on top of that. As a result (although it might not be related at all - what do I know?!), I have not been producing much milk (of course I don't know how much I should be producing). On average about 30 ml each "sitting" with way more coming out of my left breast than out of my right breast. My boobs are extremely sore and I am constantly cold. Unfortunately, my breasts are also really hard, which means I'm probably not pumping enough. After speaking to the lady today, I was told to pump every 3 hours ("even better, every 2 hours during the day) and only once may I wait 4 hours. How in the world am I supposed to do that? I'm already so tired that just the thought of having to get up tonight to pump starts a whole new flood of tears. I've tried to pump consistently throughout the day....don't know if I can do it tonight.
Sleeping...I knew it was not going to be easy, but I remember everyone saying "oh, make sure you sleep when babies are sleeping". And how exactly is that supposed to happen when the feeding takes a good hour for both and then I'm supposed to be pumping and keep the babies awake during the day?! They don't sleep well the way it is. I know I can't expect them to sleep for long periods of time, but it takes them so long to fall asleep that by the time they are out, it's almost time for a feeding again. We were told by a Madigan pediatrician to let them sleep at night, i.e. if they wanted to sleep for five hours straight, we should just let them sleep. Today, we were told to not let them sleep past three hours - feeding needs to happen every 3 hours. I am so flipping confused by all the different opinions out there. The lactation consultant today said that under no circumstances should we let them sleep like that. They MUST be woken up every three hours to eat. When does this get better?!
And (almost) finally, my own recovery. While I was very surprised by how well the c-section recovery went (already got staples removed and am really not bothered by the scar whatsoever, the stitches down below from the vaginal birth are killing me. It itches, burns, and simply just hurts. I've been trying to go without pain meds during the day because they make me sleepy, but maybe that's not the way to do it?! Madigan was kind enough to schedule me an appointment with their OBGYN psych in 6 weeks (really?! Don't they think there should be something happening before then?!). When I called today, I was told I could do the walk-in triage. I think I'll try it tomorrow to see about these stitches and also my feet. I was never swollen during the actual pregnancy, but now have feet and ankles like you wouldn't believe it. Heck, I can't see my ankles at all. My feet and lower legs hurt so bad, no matter whether it's in the morning, day, evening, or night. I've tried to put my feet up, but come on, who are we kidding here - between feeding, pumping, bottle washing, and trying to stay social via online media - this is not really possible. Today I tried to wear compression stockings. Ben had to help me put them on; I'm not sure what hurt worse, putting them on or wearing them all day. I'm terrified to death to take them off tonight because I know it will hurt like he**. So, I'll address that with the triage nurse tomorrow, too.
And now, finally, my last complaint for the day. Needless to say, I'm teary-eyed again and just feeling completed defeated. I was so looking forward to bringing the babies home and introducing Max to them. Well, our cat Precious, too, but I was more looking forward to Max's reaction. He has been really good with the babies, but I know he feels terribly neglected. He pooped in the house two nights in a row and has eaten very little food. I was able to walk him once so far, but I'm sure our backyard is filled with poop everywhere. I feel so guilty for not taking better care of him and looking at his sad eyes makes me cry. He hasn't slept in the bedroom, but stays either downstairs or in the hallway. I know it's ridiculous to feel bad for a dog, but I do. The terrible weather hasn't helped either, as we are all confined pretty much to the house.
I'm done now. Seriously hope this phase passes soon. I know not to expect that everything will go perfect from the get-go, but it's hard for me and my personality to accept that fact and let go of everything. I had and still have extremely high expectations and standards for myself and right now I don't feel like I'm meeting any of them.
Will update after mom's group and triage visit - here's to things getting better REALLY soon. Ben always says, "You can't only have the good stuff, there's gotta be some bad stuff, too". I know he's right, but I don't like feeling that way. He's been more than supportive, passing his nursing final while dealing with my sadness, and I don't want to overwhelm him with my feelings either. My mom comes in next week. While I hope that she can help with some of these issues, I also hope that she won't judge or make me feel even less competent.
For now, I will eat some dinner (thanks to the husband) and wait for the next pumping in 30 minutes and feeding in an hour.
Monday, March 19, 2012
Sunday, March 18, 2012
The Birth Story - shorter than one would expect (-:
Finally a few minutes to jot down my thoughts about the most important (yet shortest) event in my life so far. Not quite sure how to begin all of this, but here we go...
Last weekend (Mar 10), I went to a workshop held at my school, thinking about how well I was walking and feeling that morning. I stayed for a couple of hours after the workshop, wrapping up things, and making a list for the following week (my last week of work). Ben had gotten me a massage certificate, so after stopping at Trader Joes and Freddies, I headed over to my massage. I remembered the entire time how the therapist at my last massage had said, "I really can't massage your shoulder and shoulder blades too much, that's a trigger point for early labor", wondering how in the world this massage therapist had had any training in prenatal massages, as she literally worked on my shoulder the entire time. I, of course, dindn't want to offend her, and just let her do whatever she wanted to. That night, I went home feeling pretty relaxed, spent time eating pizza at the neighbor's house, and fell asleep watching TV. Ben and his friend Scott went to the Comedy Club, while I snored the night away.
At about 3:30ish, I went to the bathroom and felt a little pop in my lower back. I thought it certainly was something related to the massage I had gotten earlier and because I was so tired, just went back to bed. When I woke up just an hour or so later, my underwear was wet (sorry if TMI), but there wasn't the gushing or anything else that I expected to be there. Ben was sleeping in the other room - this had made sleeping sooooo much easier the past few days - so I decided to google signs of broken water. I know, I know, I should have just gone with my instinct. Well, one of the fabulous pieces of advice I gathered from online was that you could do a "simple science experiment", by staying flat on your back for half an hour and then getting up to see if there was an "unusual flow" or "urge". I had neither and went back to bed.
I got up around 7:30am on Sunday March 11, feeling light cramps and lower back pain. Again, I thought that must be related to the massage, the back part that is, and never really thought about the cramps. By 8:30am, I was in the shower, shaving legs, thinking to myself that I should probably go to Madigan's Labor and Delivery, just in case. Around 9ish, Ben came downstairs, had coffee, and was playing around on FB. I told him that we probably should go to Madigan because I wasn't feeling very well. His response, "Let me just file my unemployment claim really quick and then I'll pack your bag". I know, I should have packed that bag a long time ago, but honestly had intentions to do it that Sunday.
Within half an hour, I had contractions that I don't wish upon anyone. They were about 8 to 10 minutes apart, scaring literally the crap out of me. Ben ran around the house like a chicken with his head cut off, trying to pack the back, throwing car seats into the car, and trying to calm me down. No such luck, I could feel myself wetting and pooping my pants standing up in the bathroom, trying to at least brush my teeth (sorry again, if TMI). When we were finally ready to go, the contractions were less than 5 minutes apart. There was no way in the world, I could sit in my car. Ben moved everything from car to truck and I attempted to climb into the back of the truck, all the while screaming like I never have. I thought for sure by now the neighbors must have heard me, but surprisingly none of them came out. Ben got me back in the house, where he had put blankets and pillows on the floor, ready to jump into action, if needed. He ran the dog over to the neighbors and called 911. The ambulance arrived in less than 3 minutes, my contractions being less than a minute apart. The paramedics and firefighters (I still feel really bad for them) let me into the ambulance, strapped me down, and started the IV. All I remember is one saying "get ready, baby A is already half-way out". Heck no, I was not about to give birth in an ambulance. I heard sirens, and off we were - not to Madigan (too far!), but right down to Tacoma General.
We arrived at the hospital and that's where my memory gets somewhat blurry. I remember being rolled into the OR on the ambulance's stretcher and the guys moving me over. I remember two doctors and a boat load of other people in the OR, looking panicked and debating on what to do. One of the doctor's said, "There is no time, I can see the head. We need to move now". I remember screaming "No, don't do this to me, no, no, no no no no no" and holding on to one of the nurse's arms like there was no tomorrow. They strapped down my legs because I truly just wanted to jump off that table. Not sure exactly where to, but I certainly had no intentions to give birth vaginally. Two pushes later, after pain that I truly cannot describe, Lilli Martha was born. I think they briefly held her up and then the doctor said, "There is no time for an epidural, we have to do an emergency c-section". Baby B's heart beat was down to 80 bpm. Some anesthesiologist (forgive my ignorant spelling, please) came to my face and told me something about breathing oxygen and that he wouldn't leave my side. He kept yelling at the people down below, "When are we ready? Tell me when we're ready, we have to get moving".
And that's it. Next thing I know, I woke up somewhere, holding both babies. Lukas Colin was born just 15 minutes after Lilli. I was transported to the recovery room and later post partum room, listening to two "Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star" melodies, and thinking the whole time, this just cannot be true. By then, Ben had joined me and the babies. I'll let him add his thoughts to all of this. We were immediately surrounded by nurses, pediatric staff, and all kinds of other people who took fabulous care of all of us, but particularly of the babies. I truly don't remember much of that first day, other than that I still cannot believe that these two mircale babies are finally here and the enormous amount of pain that I had.
An update on the rest of our stay at TG to follow soon.....as well as memories of our first days at home with both Lilli and Lukas. What a great experience. I couldn't be any happier and am looking forward to the years ahead with these two very special people. I am grateful for all of you who, altough you didn't know the birth was happening (and neither did I until the minute of, by the way), were supportive of us and sending positive vibes from all over the world.
Last weekend (Mar 10), I went to a workshop held at my school, thinking about how well I was walking and feeling that morning. I stayed for a couple of hours after the workshop, wrapping up things, and making a list for the following week (my last week of work). Ben had gotten me a massage certificate, so after stopping at Trader Joes and Freddies, I headed over to my massage. I remembered the entire time how the therapist at my last massage had said, "I really can't massage your shoulder and shoulder blades too much, that's a trigger point for early labor", wondering how in the world this massage therapist had had any training in prenatal massages, as she literally worked on my shoulder the entire time. I, of course, dindn't want to offend her, and just let her do whatever she wanted to. That night, I went home feeling pretty relaxed, spent time eating pizza at the neighbor's house, and fell asleep watching TV. Ben and his friend Scott went to the Comedy Club, while I snored the night away.
At about 3:30ish, I went to the bathroom and felt a little pop in my lower back. I thought it certainly was something related to the massage I had gotten earlier and because I was so tired, just went back to bed. When I woke up just an hour or so later, my underwear was wet (sorry if TMI), but there wasn't the gushing or anything else that I expected to be there. Ben was sleeping in the other room - this had made sleeping sooooo much easier the past few days - so I decided to google signs of broken water. I know, I know, I should have just gone with my instinct. Well, one of the fabulous pieces of advice I gathered from online was that you could do a "simple science experiment", by staying flat on your back for half an hour and then getting up to see if there was an "unusual flow" or "urge". I had neither and went back to bed.
I got up around 7:30am on Sunday March 11, feeling light cramps and lower back pain. Again, I thought that must be related to the massage, the back part that is, and never really thought about the cramps. By 8:30am, I was in the shower, shaving legs, thinking to myself that I should probably go to Madigan's Labor and Delivery, just in case. Around 9ish, Ben came downstairs, had coffee, and was playing around on FB. I told him that we probably should go to Madigan because I wasn't feeling very well. His response, "Let me just file my unemployment claim really quick and then I'll pack your bag". I know, I should have packed that bag a long time ago, but honestly had intentions to do it that Sunday.
Within half an hour, I had contractions that I don't wish upon anyone. They were about 8 to 10 minutes apart, scaring literally the crap out of me. Ben ran around the house like a chicken with his head cut off, trying to pack the back, throwing car seats into the car, and trying to calm me down. No such luck, I could feel myself wetting and pooping my pants standing up in the bathroom, trying to at least brush my teeth (sorry again, if TMI). When we were finally ready to go, the contractions were less than 5 minutes apart. There was no way in the world, I could sit in my car. Ben moved everything from car to truck and I attempted to climb into the back of the truck, all the while screaming like I never have. I thought for sure by now the neighbors must have heard me, but surprisingly none of them came out. Ben got me back in the house, where he had put blankets and pillows on the floor, ready to jump into action, if needed. He ran the dog over to the neighbors and called 911. The ambulance arrived in less than 3 minutes, my contractions being less than a minute apart. The paramedics and firefighters (I still feel really bad for them) let me into the ambulance, strapped me down, and started the IV. All I remember is one saying "get ready, baby A is already half-way out". Heck no, I was not about to give birth in an ambulance. I heard sirens, and off we were - not to Madigan (too far!), but right down to Tacoma General.
We arrived at the hospital and that's where my memory gets somewhat blurry. I remember being rolled into the OR on the ambulance's stretcher and the guys moving me over. I remember two doctors and a boat load of other people in the OR, looking panicked and debating on what to do. One of the doctor's said, "There is no time, I can see the head. We need to move now". I remember screaming "No, don't do this to me, no, no, no no no no no" and holding on to one of the nurse's arms like there was no tomorrow. They strapped down my legs because I truly just wanted to jump off that table. Not sure exactly where to, but I certainly had no intentions to give birth vaginally. Two pushes later, after pain that I truly cannot describe, Lilli Martha was born. I think they briefly held her up and then the doctor said, "There is no time for an epidural, we have to do an emergency c-section". Baby B's heart beat was down to 80 bpm. Some anesthesiologist (forgive my ignorant spelling, please) came to my face and told me something about breathing oxygen and that he wouldn't leave my side. He kept yelling at the people down below, "When are we ready? Tell me when we're ready, we have to get moving".
And that's it. Next thing I know, I woke up somewhere, holding both babies. Lukas Colin was born just 15 minutes after Lilli. I was transported to the recovery room and later post partum room, listening to two "Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star" melodies, and thinking the whole time, this just cannot be true. By then, Ben had joined me and the babies. I'll let him add his thoughts to all of this. We were immediately surrounded by nurses, pediatric staff, and all kinds of other people who took fabulous care of all of us, but particularly of the babies. I truly don't remember much of that first day, other than that I still cannot believe that these two mircale babies are finally here and the enormous amount of pain that I had.
An update on the rest of our stay at TG to follow soon.....as well as memories of our first days at home with both Lilli and Lukas. What a great experience. I couldn't be any happier and am looking forward to the years ahead with these two very special people. I am grateful for all of you who, altough you didn't know the birth was happening (and neither did I until the minute of, by the way), were supportive of us and sending positive vibes from all over the world.
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