Confession: I'm exhausted.
Well I've survived 2 weeks. I can say that week 2 has been way easier then week 1. I was completely depressed the first week. Mostly because I still hated how things happened with the c section and how badly my body ached. Now that I'm doing better physically, my emotional state is starting to even out a little bit. I still don't like that I had a c section and NEVER want to experience it again, it's over and one with and I have my baby boy here.
Baby M has been having loads of gas issues. We took him into the doc yesterday because his breathing became different and he wouldn't stop crying. With the use of an x-ray machine we discovered that he has an unusually large amount of gas filling his intestines and causing him lots of pain. So, he is now on gas drops. Last night was rough because he still has his days and nights mixed up and his tummy hurt. I was up with him from about 2-6am trying to comfort him. Then at 7am Dad took over and for a solid hour was a farting machine and after he ate his breakfast, he had a huge poopie explosion all over me and our bed. I wasn't even a little bit irritated that I had to wash everything that early in the morning, I was just grateful he pooped. I found myself saying, "way to go!" and "keep it up!" every time he tooted. You don't realize how important gas and pooping is, until you can't anymore. Poor little man. Today has been much better, he hasn't been as fussy and he's sleeping more comfortably it seems.
I'm amazed at what the human body can do on only a few hours of sleep and despite being up all night, having a headache that won't go away, an insanely messy house, a itchy rash ( on my incision) that won't go away either, a massive amount of poop covered laundry to do and a flabby body that I won't be able to work on for months.... I'm just happy watching my little guy sleep in his swing and Little P watching Thomas the Train.
I'm totally exhausted and I don't really care that I am.
In other news. I'm an aunt! There are loads of nieces and nephews on hubby's side of the family but until recently my two little ones were the only ones to fill up grand baby slots on my side. Sweet little Baby A came early Monday morning to my brother and sister in law and she is gorgeous. Just like her mama. She's definitely got "the cheeks". She isn't alone in that though, my Little P has them too. Baby Boy M got away with that one and inherited his Daddy's slimmer facial features.
Still taking things one day at a time. Although it really feels one minute at a time.
And today...today I'm grateful for healthy children. And little baby toots.
Yours truly,
the unbalanced, exhausted, mother of 2, woman.
Wednesday, April 4, 2012
Thursday, March 29, 2012
A Birth Story
Baby M's Birth Story
Well, it's happened. I'm a mother of 2. It hasn't hit me yet, it all seems a little unreal. But let me tell you how he got here....
At my 38 week appointment I was actually in the hospital because I was having regular contractions and my midwife just did the appointment before I went home that night because my baby boy wasn't coming yet. We found out that night that he was transverse (sideways) and not head down. I immediately panicked thinking I'd have to get a c section.. But my midwife was confident that with doing some stretches on my own at home that we could successfully get him turned. So, for the next week that's what I did. I did everything my midwife recommended, and found more things on the internet to try. I was a complete mess all week because I wanted him to turn so badly and I couldn't focus on anything else.
Wednesday came around (the 21st) at my 39 week check up and viola! He was head down, I cried laying there on the table because I was so relieved. I was scheduled to do a version the next morning to get him turned, which I didn't need to do anymore, and then they would start my induction. I was also 2cm dilated which made me even more excited that things would go smoothly the next morning and my baby boy would finally be here.
I came home that afternoon and still did my stretches just to make sure he stayed right where we wanted me too. We dropped Little P off at a friend's house for the night since the induction was schedule so early in the morning. My mom was headed out from Iowa and I was a happy clam. We went to bed early that night to get a full nights rest for our big day. At midnight I woke up with contractions about 10 minutes apart. I didn't think much of it because this had been happening for several days and nothing came of it. So I'd fall asleep for 10 minutes in between each one. Then at 3 am they became closer together. I decided to get up and move around, drink some water, sit on my exercise ball and then I eventually showered at about 4:30am. The shower helped the most but the contractions didn't lessen at all. I was getting kind of excited that my body was doing its thing all on its own and hopefully that meant things were going to go super fast once I got to the hospital.
I got out of the shower and the contractions started coming about 3 minutes apart and they hurt. I had to breath through them and stop what I was doing every time I got one. I called my midwife to let her know what was going on and see if I should go into the hospital early. Well the answering service I called took down the wrong number and I waited for an hour to hear back from her. So after lots of confusion I got a hold of her and she told me to go to the hospital right away. I had woken dear hubby up at this point and he was showered and got everything in the car. We headed for the hospital at 5:45am. When I got there I could barely breathe in between each contraction and they quickly got me admitted and into a bed. Once I got into bed they check me and brought the ultrasound machine in to make sure hew as still head down. I was dilated to a 4 almost 5cm and the nurse could feel feet! NOT A HEAD! I, of course fahhh-reaked out and started crying. Hubby just held my hand and told me everything was going to be fine.
So, after an hour of breathing through contractions that were coming extremely fast and then finding out that the ultrasound machine was broke and trying to find a new one I was exhausted. My midwife arrived and she checked me again and I was at 7! There was panic everywhere in the room and it seem about a dozen people were coming and going constantly. They decided to go ahead with the C section and I just couldn't help but cry. This is not what I wanted.
Once they poked me a million times to get my I.V started they wheeled me into the operating room and got me set up to get my spinal block. Once that was done it was almost instantaneous that I felt relief and numbness through my whole body. It was the most comfortable I'd been my whole pregnancy and I took that moment to come to terms with getting a c section and calm myself down.
They had a mirror in the room so you could see what was going on before they pulled the curtain up by my head. I was strapped down to a table and completely naked. I was rather horrified that all my lady parts were being exposed under a bunch of bright lights.
Once they pulled the curtain up all I did was look at hubby, whiled he stroked my hand and face. They told me I would feel a lot of pressure when they were taking the baby out but I honestly felt nothing. He immediately cried as soon as his head was out and they took him to get cleaned off and checked out. I was able to see him the whole time and I just watched and cried and prayed, prayers of gratitude that he was here. I don't know how long we were in there, but it felt like forever before I could hold my Baby M. At one point during the process of being stitched up I started to feel extremely light headed and sick. One of the doc's came over and asked how I was feeling and I said I didn't feel very good. He proceeded to tell me that my uterus was currently OUTSIDE my body to get stitched up. I have no idea why I didn't ask why they were doing that at the time, and wished I would of said something. He reassured me that once it was back in my body I'd feel better. "Well, uh thank mister. I sure hope so." Was all I could think.
Once they were finished they moved me into my recovery room and hubby brought me my baby boy. I mostly just felt relief that it was all over and that I wasn't pregnant anymore... but to my surprise that was just the start of everything.
My recovery has been rough. I went home after 3 days mostly because hubby couldn't stand it at the hospital anymore and I was hoping I'd feel loads better once I was home in my own bed.
We are one week postpartum and I guess I'm feeling okay. Yesterday was rough. I cried most of the day in the solitude of my room with Baby M sleeping away in his bed and Little P with my mom watching movies and playing. I just have this overwhelming fear that my body will never go back to normal and that once I do start feeling a little better and all my help is gone that I just won't be able to handle being a mother of 2. I vented my fears and frustrations to hubby and he very tenderly told me to just take one day at a time. "Don't worry about tomorrow or the next day, don't worry about next week or next month. Just today. That's all you need to do." he said.
As simple as that was it made me feel a lot better. He even addressed other issues I mentioned without prompting him to help me. I think it was the first time he's ever done that. It gave me a great sense of confidence in myself, knowing he had confidence in me and was willing to help me along the way. After my little sob fest, we decided to get out of the house. My mom kept the baby while we went to a park and let Little P run out all her energy. I sat in the car and watched as she chased Hubby around and as she daringly went down all the "big' slides by herself and then clapped and yelled for Daddy to go down them too. We also stopped at the grocery store and hubby let me get some donuts, and a Redbox Dvd and he surprised me by buying a "Dad's orange cream soda" My favorite.
Today has been much better. I've moved around a lot more and tried to get a few things done just to feel productive. I know there will be much harder days ahead. But right now, I'm only going to worry about today.
Excuse me while I go help Little P hold Baby M because she's been asking all day.
Yours truly,
the unbalanced, in recovery, mother of 2, woman.
Well, it's happened. I'm a mother of 2. It hasn't hit me yet, it all seems a little unreal. But let me tell you how he got here....
At my 38 week appointment I was actually in the hospital because I was having regular contractions and my midwife just did the appointment before I went home that night because my baby boy wasn't coming yet. We found out that night that he was transverse (sideways) and not head down. I immediately panicked thinking I'd have to get a c section.. But my midwife was confident that with doing some stretches on my own at home that we could successfully get him turned. So, for the next week that's what I did. I did everything my midwife recommended, and found more things on the internet to try. I was a complete mess all week because I wanted him to turn so badly and I couldn't focus on anything else.
Wednesday came around (the 21st) at my 39 week check up and viola! He was head down, I cried laying there on the table because I was so relieved. I was scheduled to do a version the next morning to get him turned, which I didn't need to do anymore, and then they would start my induction. I was also 2cm dilated which made me even more excited that things would go smoothly the next morning and my baby boy would finally be here.
I came home that afternoon and still did my stretches just to make sure he stayed right where we wanted me too. We dropped Little P off at a friend's house for the night since the induction was schedule so early in the morning. My mom was headed out from Iowa and I was a happy clam. We went to bed early that night to get a full nights rest for our big day. At midnight I woke up with contractions about 10 minutes apart. I didn't think much of it because this had been happening for several days and nothing came of it. So I'd fall asleep for 10 minutes in between each one. Then at 3 am they became closer together. I decided to get up and move around, drink some water, sit on my exercise ball and then I eventually showered at about 4:30am. The shower helped the most but the contractions didn't lessen at all. I was getting kind of excited that my body was doing its thing all on its own and hopefully that meant things were going to go super fast once I got to the hospital.
I got out of the shower and the contractions started coming about 3 minutes apart and they hurt. I had to breath through them and stop what I was doing every time I got one. I called my midwife to let her know what was going on and see if I should go into the hospital early. Well the answering service I called took down the wrong number and I waited for an hour to hear back from her. So after lots of confusion I got a hold of her and she told me to go to the hospital right away. I had woken dear hubby up at this point and he was showered and got everything in the car. We headed for the hospital at 5:45am. When I got there I could barely breathe in between each contraction and they quickly got me admitted and into a bed. Once I got into bed they check me and brought the ultrasound machine in to make sure hew as still head down. I was dilated to a 4 almost 5cm and the nurse could feel feet! NOT A HEAD! I, of course fahhh-reaked out and started crying. Hubby just held my hand and told me everything was going to be fine.
So, after an hour of breathing through contractions that were coming extremely fast and then finding out that the ultrasound machine was broke and trying to find a new one I was exhausted. My midwife arrived and she checked me again and I was at 7! There was panic everywhere in the room and it seem about a dozen people were coming and going constantly. They decided to go ahead with the C section and I just couldn't help but cry. This is not what I wanted.
Once they poked me a million times to get my I.V started they wheeled me into the operating room and got me set up to get my spinal block. Once that was done it was almost instantaneous that I felt relief and numbness through my whole body. It was the most comfortable I'd been my whole pregnancy and I took that moment to come to terms with getting a c section and calm myself down.
They had a mirror in the room so you could see what was going on before they pulled the curtain up by my head. I was strapped down to a table and completely naked. I was rather horrified that all my lady parts were being exposed under a bunch of bright lights.
Once they pulled the curtain up all I did was look at hubby, whiled he stroked my hand and face. They told me I would feel a lot of pressure when they were taking the baby out but I honestly felt nothing. He immediately cried as soon as his head was out and they took him to get cleaned off and checked out. I was able to see him the whole time and I just watched and cried and prayed, prayers of gratitude that he was here. I don't know how long we were in there, but it felt like forever before I could hold my Baby M. At one point during the process of being stitched up I started to feel extremely light headed and sick. One of the doc's came over and asked how I was feeling and I said I didn't feel very good. He proceeded to tell me that my uterus was currently OUTSIDE my body to get stitched up. I have no idea why I didn't ask why they were doing that at the time, and wished I would of said something. He reassured me that once it was back in my body I'd feel better. "Well, uh thank mister. I sure hope so." Was all I could think.
Once they were finished they moved me into my recovery room and hubby brought me my baby boy. I mostly just felt relief that it was all over and that I wasn't pregnant anymore... but to my surprise that was just the start of everything.
My recovery has been rough. I went home after 3 days mostly because hubby couldn't stand it at the hospital anymore and I was hoping I'd feel loads better once I was home in my own bed.
We are one week postpartum and I guess I'm feeling okay. Yesterday was rough. I cried most of the day in the solitude of my room with Baby M sleeping away in his bed and Little P with my mom watching movies and playing. I just have this overwhelming fear that my body will never go back to normal and that once I do start feeling a little better and all my help is gone that I just won't be able to handle being a mother of 2. I vented my fears and frustrations to hubby and he very tenderly told me to just take one day at a time. "Don't worry about tomorrow or the next day, don't worry about next week or next month. Just today. That's all you need to do." he said.
As simple as that was it made me feel a lot better. He even addressed other issues I mentioned without prompting him to help me. I think it was the first time he's ever done that. It gave me a great sense of confidence in myself, knowing he had confidence in me and was willing to help me along the way. After my little sob fest, we decided to get out of the house. My mom kept the baby while we went to a park and let Little P run out all her energy. I sat in the car and watched as she chased Hubby around and as she daringly went down all the "big' slides by herself and then clapped and yelled for Daddy to go down them too. We also stopped at the grocery store and hubby let me get some donuts, and a Redbox Dvd and he surprised me by buying a "Dad's orange cream soda" My favorite.
Today has been much better. I've moved around a lot more and tried to get a few things done just to feel productive. I know there will be much harder days ahead. But right now, I'm only going to worry about today.
Excuse me while I go help Little P hold Baby M because she's been asking all day.
Yours truly,
the unbalanced, in recovery, mother of 2, woman.
Sunday, March 11, 2012
Victory Confession #14 - Phase 2- Getting Stronger
Victory Confession: Phase 2 of my PPD and getting stronger already.
I've been on my medication for 7 weeks now. I'm not really sure what I was expecting by taking my medication early or how it would help me this time around. Especially since I started taking it before things even got to a point where it was hard. I am a mere week in a half (or less) away from having my Baby Boy M in my arms forever.
I realize things are going to change once he gets here and that's where I'm really going to see if this medication is helping, but so far I've been doing great. There is just a natural emotionally taxing part about the END of pregnancy. You ache everywhere, you feel huge, no sleep, uncomfortable no matter where you sit or lay down. All you want is the baby OUT and out NOW! I've definitely been feeling all of the above but compared to my first end of pregnancy experience I don't feel like I've been as emotional. I remember crying every single night before bed that I hadn't had my baby yet for the last 2-3 weeks of my pregnancy. I've only done that ONCE so far. Emotionally and physically I'm ready to have this baby there is no doubt about it but I have a sense of content that he'll come at his own time.
Truly, the only thing I've been worried about is how Little P will handle all this change. I know I've been making things out to be worse then they will probably end up being. And she always surprises me with how well she transitions into a new phase of life. I feel so blessed that things have gone so smoothly with her in our 2 short years together.
I've also been feeling grateful for supportive friends and family. Namely my mother, two wonderful Iowa natives that know me inside and out, not to mention such wonderful mothers and a newer friend that I told you about here awhile ago and could NOT have survived our first year here without.
My mother. Oh my lanta. I call her everyday and tell her the same things and whine and complain and every time without fail she offers sympathy and reassurance. I've always been open with my mom about everything and she always know the exact thing I need to hear. I hope I can be that same way for my children.
My Iowa girls. I get rather personal on this blog but using names isn't one of them since this is a public blog that anyone can read I do like to have some discretion. These two ladies have been so great, especially these last couple of months. They have been emotionally supportive and just plain old fun. Lady M has been in my corner since her and I were 4. We've experienced our whole lives together. There isn't much we don't know about each other. She just became a new momma about 8 weeks ago to the THEE most charming little boy in the world and might I add the easiest baby I've ever been around. Never heard the boy cry and he sleeps a lot! Already I can see what a champion his mother is and will continue to be. Lady K is such an example to me of a great mother. Her set of challenges seem to have come all at once and she handles them with such fire and grace. She's always there to give me a good laugh and tell me to keep on going.
And my newest friend that I met shortly after we moved here has literally been my life-raft on my hardest days. I don't even know how to explain the gratitude I've felt for her unwavering friendship and shoulder to cry on. I would of drown without her this passed year and know I've found a life-long friend.
Minus my mother, these ladies and I got together yesterday for a lunch as my last social HOO-RAH before I become a mother of 2. We talked and laughed and laughed and laughed. The restaurant was completely full when we got there and two hours later we all realized we were the only people left and making lots of noise. It was exactly what I needed.
There is one thing I've learned since I've become a mother that all other mothers need to know and learn. Even those women reading this that haven't become mothers yet...Heck, even if there are some men reading this who will one day be the companions of these future mothers you should know this too....
Having other mothers in your life is essential. Creating a bond with them will pull you through. I've been grateful to know I'm not the only one that feels like I'm going completely crazy most days and sometimes don't even want to be a mom on the hardest days. So you current mothers: let's come together. You future mothers: we're here when you need us. Fathers and husbands: encourage her, help her, sympathize with her and accept her.
Hopefully you'll hear from me shortly with a short VICTORY post about my new little man.
Truly,
the pregnant, unbalanced, and stronger woman.
I've been on my medication for 7 weeks now. I'm not really sure what I was expecting by taking my medication early or how it would help me this time around. Especially since I started taking it before things even got to a point where it was hard. I am a mere week in a half (or less) away from having my Baby Boy M in my arms forever.
I realize things are going to change once he gets here and that's where I'm really going to see if this medication is helping, but so far I've been doing great. There is just a natural emotionally taxing part about the END of pregnancy. You ache everywhere, you feel huge, no sleep, uncomfortable no matter where you sit or lay down. All you want is the baby OUT and out NOW! I've definitely been feeling all of the above but compared to my first end of pregnancy experience I don't feel like I've been as emotional. I remember crying every single night before bed that I hadn't had my baby yet for the last 2-3 weeks of my pregnancy. I've only done that ONCE so far. Emotionally and physically I'm ready to have this baby there is no doubt about it but I have a sense of content that he'll come at his own time.
Truly, the only thing I've been worried about is how Little P will handle all this change. I know I've been making things out to be worse then they will probably end up being. And she always surprises me with how well she transitions into a new phase of life. I feel so blessed that things have gone so smoothly with her in our 2 short years together.
I've also been feeling grateful for supportive friends and family. Namely my mother, two wonderful Iowa natives that know me inside and out, not to mention such wonderful mothers and a newer friend that I told you about here awhile ago and could NOT have survived our first year here without.
My mother. Oh my lanta. I call her everyday and tell her the same things and whine and complain and every time without fail she offers sympathy and reassurance. I've always been open with my mom about everything and she always know the exact thing I need to hear. I hope I can be that same way for my children.
My Iowa girls. I get rather personal on this blog but using names isn't one of them since this is a public blog that anyone can read I do like to have some discretion. These two ladies have been so great, especially these last couple of months. They have been emotionally supportive and just plain old fun. Lady M has been in my corner since her and I were 4. We've experienced our whole lives together. There isn't much we don't know about each other. She just became a new momma about 8 weeks ago to the THEE most charming little boy in the world and might I add the easiest baby I've ever been around. Never heard the boy cry and he sleeps a lot! Already I can see what a champion his mother is and will continue to be. Lady K is such an example to me of a great mother. Her set of challenges seem to have come all at once and she handles them with such fire and grace. She's always there to give me a good laugh and tell me to keep on going.
And my newest friend that I met shortly after we moved here has literally been my life-raft on my hardest days. I don't even know how to explain the gratitude I've felt for her unwavering friendship and shoulder to cry on. I would of drown without her this passed year and know I've found a life-long friend.
Minus my mother, these ladies and I got together yesterday for a lunch as my last social HOO-RAH before I become a mother of 2. We talked and laughed and laughed and laughed. The restaurant was completely full when we got there and two hours later we all realized we were the only people left and making lots of noise. It was exactly what I needed.
There is one thing I've learned since I've become a mother that all other mothers need to know and learn. Even those women reading this that haven't become mothers yet...Heck, even if there are some men reading this who will one day be the companions of these future mothers you should know this too....
Having other mothers in your life is essential. Creating a bond with them will pull you through. I've been grateful to know I'm not the only one that feels like I'm going completely crazy most days and sometimes don't even want to be a mom on the hardest days. So you current mothers: let's come together. You future mothers: we're here when you need us. Fathers and husbands: encourage her, help her, sympathize with her and accept her.
Hopefully you'll hear from me shortly with a short VICTORY post about my new little man.
Truly,
the pregnant, unbalanced, and stronger woman.
Monday, February 27, 2012
Confession # 18 - Finding the JOY is hard
Confession: Finding the JOY in motherhood is hard.
Hi, friends. I'm writing you from within the walls of my daughter's bedroom, while sitting on an exercise ball. Little P is coloring a turtle on one of the many children's app's I have on my phone. Finding Nemo is playing in the background. There is a load of laundry running, a pile of dishes in the sink, an endless amount of lego's scattered across the entire upstairs and Baby boy M is wiggling around in my tummy like he's trying to squirm his way out like there's no tomorrow.
We had a great lesson at church yesterday in Relief Society. It was a good, and swift kick in the pants for me as I have been miss complainy pants these last few months of pregnancy. We talked/learned about finding the Joy in motherhood. I'm learning along with every other mother in the world how to this. Especially on a daily basis. Bringing children into the world is a beautiful thing. Plain and simple. It's a huge responsibility becoming a parent. And IT IS a noble one. But the truth is, I don't feel that all the time. I don't feel it everyday or even every week. In fact, I rarely feel it, if ever.
This whole mommy thing isn't a picnic. It's hard, exhausting, messy and emotionally draining. But, I've learned..since I'm not blessed with feeling that nobility 24/7. I have to find it. I have to create opportunities to let it feel me up. I need to stop..and stop often and just soak in my Little P. Soak in her baby powder smell and kiss her chubby cheeks. Look into her big blue eyes. Wipe away her alligator tears when she doesn't get her way.Laugh that she runs everywhere she goes and never walks. Be proud of her independence and fierceness. Cherish every cheesy grin and slobbery kiss. Let her use the word "boy" for puppy just because it sounds cute. Let her snuggle me for the millionth time at night even though it's waaay passed her bedtime. Embrace the fact that she wants to be with me every second of the day, whether I'm sitting on the toilet peeing for the 8th time that morning, doing my makeup or crying in my bedroom because another 5 of my shirts won't go over my stomach.
These moments are what make it worthwhile and make it completely exhilarating to be a mother. Because Little P is my first kiddo she'll be the one I have all my "mommy firsts" with. And I'm grateful it's this crazy girl.
As I sit here in her room looking at all her several pairs of shoes, her million stuffed animals, her obnoxiously loud, musical toys, the scattered lego's and the crumbs of cereal EVERYWHERE. I realize this is my joy. There is a difference between happiness and joy. Happiness is temporary. It's great. But it doesn't always last. But joy, that is eternal. Just like my Little P and wiggling Baby Boy M. I have them forever. Nothing is more joyful then that.
Sincerely,
the pregnant, unbalanced and joyful woman.
Hi, friends. I'm writing you from within the walls of my daughter's bedroom, while sitting on an exercise ball. Little P is coloring a turtle on one of the many children's app's I have on my phone. Finding Nemo is playing in the background. There is a load of laundry running, a pile of dishes in the sink, an endless amount of lego's scattered across the entire upstairs and Baby boy M is wiggling around in my tummy like he's trying to squirm his way out like there's no tomorrow.
We had a great lesson at church yesterday in Relief Society. It was a good, and swift kick in the pants for me as I have been miss complainy pants these last few months of pregnancy. We talked/learned about finding the Joy in motherhood. I'm learning along with every other mother in the world how to this. Especially on a daily basis. Bringing children into the world is a beautiful thing. Plain and simple. It's a huge responsibility becoming a parent. And IT IS a noble one. But the truth is, I don't feel that all the time. I don't feel it everyday or even every week. In fact, I rarely feel it, if ever.
This whole mommy thing isn't a picnic. It's hard, exhausting, messy and emotionally draining. But, I've learned..since I'm not blessed with feeling that nobility 24/7. I have to find it. I have to create opportunities to let it feel me up. I need to stop..and stop often and just soak in my Little P. Soak in her baby powder smell and kiss her chubby cheeks. Look into her big blue eyes. Wipe away her alligator tears when she doesn't get her way.Laugh that she runs everywhere she goes and never walks. Be proud of her independence and fierceness. Cherish every cheesy grin and slobbery kiss. Let her use the word "boy" for puppy just because it sounds cute. Let her snuggle me for the millionth time at night even though it's waaay passed her bedtime. Embrace the fact that she wants to be with me every second of the day, whether I'm sitting on the toilet peeing for the 8th time that morning, doing my makeup or crying in my bedroom because another 5 of my shirts won't go over my stomach.
These moments are what make it worthwhile and make it completely exhilarating to be a mother. Because Little P is my first kiddo she'll be the one I have all my "mommy firsts" with. And I'm grateful it's this crazy girl.
As I sit here in her room looking at all her several pairs of shoes, her million stuffed animals, her obnoxiously loud, musical toys, the scattered lego's and the crumbs of cereal EVERYWHERE. I realize this is my joy. There is a difference between happiness and joy. Happiness is temporary. It's great. But it doesn't always last. But joy, that is eternal. Just like my Little P and wiggling Baby Boy M. I have them forever. Nothing is more joyful then that.
Sincerely,
the pregnant, unbalanced and joyful woman.
Wednesday, January 25, 2012
Confession # 17 - It begins again.
Confession # 17- It begins again.
Well the journey to continue to overcome my trials continues when it comes to motherhood. As I suspected, this pregnancy, just like the last one has been very taxing on my mind, and my body. It's been hard, just like I remember. As I endure these last 8 weeks, unlike my last pregnancy, I've started taking my anti-depressant. I've been experiencing those overwhelming feelings of sadness, anger and frustration for the past month and dear hubby and I decided it would be best for me to get a jump on things before they get to a point where I feel out of control. I promised myself during Phase 1 of my PPD that I wouldn't let myself suffer again. I have to confess that I did hesitate to start, trying to convince myself I could do it on my own again. But as I read through my early posts at the beginning of my recovery, I remember feeling how dark I felt and how hard it was to get out of that, even with help.
So, I've done lots of research and talked with my doctor on countless occasions about this what the best path is to take. Yesterday at my 31 week appointment (and after having and emotionally taxing month of depression) I told her I was ready. She went over the risks with me once more, and wanted to make sure this is what I wanted. I assured her it was.
So here I am, starting Phase 2. I'm feeling afraid , but not despair. Something I had a hard time shaking during Phase 1. I'm hoping, praying (daily) even that I can catch this before it gets too bad.
My regular outlet of exercise is, at the moment, unavailable to me because Of how much pain I'm in. I'm carrying this little guy extremely low, which has added additional pain in my low back and pelvis, making it difficult to even walk. Can't walk=can't exercise. I have, however, scheduled an appointment for today to see a physical therapist that specializes in low back and pelvis pain in pregnant women. I'm hoping I can rehabilitate these muscles so that once I deliver this won't be a problem anymore.
I've been questioned on several occasions if taking an anti-depressant while pregnant is safe and every so often, criticized for putting my unborn baby at risk. First off, all of these people are either without uterus's, or have never experienced PPD. And cannot make reasonable assumptions about MY life choices. I'm not going into this blind. And I'm not going into this uneducated.
You need to weigh the risk and the benefit. I can run the risk of my baby being born and not breathing as quickly, and having a moment of fear that something is wrong and realize very quickly that everything is fine and have the benefit that I am emotionally able to take care of my family and be a better mom. As scary as that "moment" will be, I'm willing to take that risk then make myself and my family suffer because I think " I can handle it on my own." When the fact is, I know that I can't without some help.
Just as heaven knows, I'm sure I'll still struggle. Transitioning into becoming a mother of two, sleepless nights, breastfeeding, a cranky two-year old and endless amounts of diapers all over the house.
But remember what I've been saying this past year in a half?? Control what you can control. That's what I'm doing. Taking control of my life to be a better mother.
Your's truly,
the pregnant,unbalanced, and medicated woman.
Well the journey to continue to overcome my trials continues when it comes to motherhood. As I suspected, this pregnancy, just like the last one has been very taxing on my mind, and my body. It's been hard, just like I remember. As I endure these last 8 weeks, unlike my last pregnancy, I've started taking my anti-depressant. I've been experiencing those overwhelming feelings of sadness, anger and frustration for the past month and dear hubby and I decided it would be best for me to get a jump on things before they get to a point where I feel out of control. I promised myself during Phase 1 of my PPD that I wouldn't let myself suffer again. I have to confess that I did hesitate to start, trying to convince myself I could do it on my own again. But as I read through my early posts at the beginning of my recovery, I remember feeling how dark I felt and how hard it was to get out of that, even with help.
So, I've done lots of research and talked with my doctor on countless occasions about this what the best path is to take. Yesterday at my 31 week appointment (and after having and emotionally taxing month of depression) I told her I was ready. She went over the risks with me once more, and wanted to make sure this is what I wanted. I assured her it was.
So here I am, starting Phase 2. I'm feeling afraid , but not despair. Something I had a hard time shaking during Phase 1. I'm hoping, praying (daily) even that I can catch this before it gets too bad.
My regular outlet of exercise is, at the moment, unavailable to me because Of how much pain I'm in. I'm carrying this little guy extremely low, which has added additional pain in my low back and pelvis, making it difficult to even walk. Can't walk=can't exercise. I have, however, scheduled an appointment for today to see a physical therapist that specializes in low back and pelvis pain in pregnant women. I'm hoping I can rehabilitate these muscles so that once I deliver this won't be a problem anymore.
I've been questioned on several occasions if taking an anti-depressant while pregnant is safe and every so often, criticized for putting my unborn baby at risk. First off, all of these people are either without uterus's, or have never experienced PPD. And cannot make reasonable assumptions about MY life choices. I'm not going into this blind. And I'm not going into this uneducated.
You need to weigh the risk and the benefit. I can run the risk of my baby being born and not breathing as quickly, and having a moment of fear that something is wrong and realize very quickly that everything is fine and have the benefit that I am emotionally able to take care of my family and be a better mom. As scary as that "moment" will be, I'm willing to take that risk then make myself and my family suffer because I think " I can handle it on my own." When the fact is, I know that I can't without some help.
Just as heaven knows, I'm sure I'll still struggle. Transitioning into becoming a mother of two, sleepless nights, breastfeeding, a cranky two-year old and endless amounts of diapers all over the house.
But remember what I've been saying this past year in a half?? Control what you can control. That's what I'm doing. Taking control of my life to be a better mother.
Your's truly,
the pregnant,unbalanced, and medicated woman.
Thursday, August 25, 2011
Victory Confession - I'm going to be a mother again.
Victory Confession - I'm going to be a mother again.
My last post was rather encouraging as my emotional state seemed to have balanced itself out and I was feeling superb. Once off my anti-depressant, settled into our new home in the HOT state of Utah, dearest hubby and I felt that it was time for another little one to join our family. Four weeks after that discussion there was, in fact, a tiny little person starting to grow inside my tummy.
When making this rather big decision to create another life, that I would be in charge of the majority of the day, along with Toddler P, to my surprise there wasn't much hesitation. There wasn't fear or anxiety. No stress. I think mostly the fact that I had comfort from the other side of the veil, made this simple: It was time to have another baby. So, we tried. We were successful.
The first two weeks I knew I was pregnant were wonderful. I wasn't sick, or tired. I could feel small changes in my body here in there, nothing too dramatic. Well, that all changed very quickly.
With Toddler P I was very sick. Throwing up multiple times a day, went to work part-time, slept as often as possible. It was quite awful. When I became sick this time around, the memories of how much I didn't enjoy it came flooding back to me. Constant nausea, throwing up, nothing sounds good, nothing tastes good. Exhausted..sooo exhausted. I was miserable. After suffering for about a week I called the good ol' midwife and pleaded for some help. So, I went and got some fluids and some anti-nausea medication and went back to bed.
The first week on the medicine did pretty much nothing. I was still sick, if anything I was sicker. Then, miraculously it started working and I started feeling less sick all the time. Don't get me wrong, I still felt awful, just not as bad.
My dear dear dear Dad volunteered to come take care of me and Toddler P for about 4 days. Bless his soul. I don't know many Dad's that would be willing to come, alone, to take care of his pregnant and sick daughter and granddaughter. Plus, do all the cooking, cleaning and play with Toddler P all day. He's pretty great. I cried when he left.
The week after that, hubby took off the mornings for the entire week to help me out so I could slowly get ready. I survived yet another week.
I am a few days away from that beloved week 12 and not only am I starting (very slowly) to feel better. But now, my mother is here. For an entire week to take care of us. If this isn't a blessed life, I don't know what is.
I've done my fair share ( and probably a little more) of complaining these past several weeks, but all the while I've been trying to see all the good. And to be grateful.
There are so many woman who can't bear children. If I could give them my very fertile and healthy reproductive parts for 9 months I would. I get to bring life into this world in the most beautiful way. Motherhood is so special. Although it doesn't feel like the "noblest calling" 24/7. We get pooped on and thrown up on, we get kicked and pinched, we get grouchy toddler's that only say "no", we get morning sickness that prevents us from being the best mother we can be. The moments of joy and victories are quick and very short lived. But when we recognize those moments and let them carry us through all the hard. Our ability to be a better mother will only increase.
Am I fearful of suffering with PPD once again this time around? Sure.
But I know what to expect more this time and I know what to do to quick it's trash.
Yours truly,
the pregnant unbalanced woman.
My last post was rather encouraging as my emotional state seemed to have balanced itself out and I was feeling superb. Once off my anti-depressant, settled into our new home in the HOT state of Utah, dearest hubby and I felt that it was time for another little one to join our family. Four weeks after that discussion there was, in fact, a tiny little person starting to grow inside my tummy.
When making this rather big decision to create another life, that I would be in charge of the majority of the day, along with Toddler P, to my surprise there wasn't much hesitation. There wasn't fear or anxiety. No stress. I think mostly the fact that I had comfort from the other side of the veil, made this simple: It was time to have another baby. So, we tried. We were successful.
The first two weeks I knew I was pregnant were wonderful. I wasn't sick, or tired. I could feel small changes in my body here in there, nothing too dramatic. Well, that all changed very quickly.
With Toddler P I was very sick. Throwing up multiple times a day, went to work part-time, slept as often as possible. It was quite awful. When I became sick this time around, the memories of how much I didn't enjoy it came flooding back to me. Constant nausea, throwing up, nothing sounds good, nothing tastes good. Exhausted..sooo exhausted. I was miserable. After suffering for about a week I called the good ol' midwife and pleaded for some help. So, I went and got some fluids and some anti-nausea medication and went back to bed.
The first week on the medicine did pretty much nothing. I was still sick, if anything I was sicker. Then, miraculously it started working and I started feeling less sick all the time. Don't get me wrong, I still felt awful, just not as bad.
My dear dear dear Dad volunteered to come take care of me and Toddler P for about 4 days. Bless his soul. I don't know many Dad's that would be willing to come, alone, to take care of his pregnant and sick daughter and granddaughter. Plus, do all the cooking, cleaning and play with Toddler P all day. He's pretty great. I cried when he left.
The week after that, hubby took off the mornings for the entire week to help me out so I could slowly get ready. I survived yet another week.
I am a few days away from that beloved week 12 and not only am I starting (very slowly) to feel better. But now, my mother is here. For an entire week to take care of us. If this isn't a blessed life, I don't know what is.
I've done my fair share ( and probably a little more) of complaining these past several weeks, but all the while I've been trying to see all the good. And to be grateful.
There are so many woman who can't bear children. If I could give them my very fertile and healthy reproductive parts for 9 months I would. I get to bring life into this world in the most beautiful way. Motherhood is so special. Although it doesn't feel like the "noblest calling" 24/7. We get pooped on and thrown up on, we get kicked and pinched, we get grouchy toddler's that only say "no", we get morning sickness that prevents us from being the best mother we can be. The moments of joy and victories are quick and very short lived. But when we recognize those moments and let them carry us through all the hard. Our ability to be a better mother will only increase.
Am I fearful of suffering with PPD once again this time around? Sure.
But I know what to expect more this time and I know what to do to quick it's trash.
Yours truly,
the pregnant unbalanced woman.
Monday, June 20, 2011
Victory Confession #12: Chang IS Possible
Victory Confession # 12: Change IS Possible.
I feel so incredible.
I finally feel at home here. We've made friends. Great friends. Who make us laugh and make us feel welcome. Who let us borrow tortillas and invite us over for Father Day dinner. Who stock our freezer with cinnamon rolls and who'll watch Baby P on a Friday night for us.
That first month was real hard. I cried almost constantly. Usually when people were around, why do our tears act like that is the MOST appropriate time to starting gushing?..when people are watching. Unpleasant.
I ached for our old friends. I looked through all our past pictures over and over and over... I was depressed. In a different way though. I constantly felt sorry for myself. I wasn't appreciating any of the goodness around me.
You know what got me out of it? I was so wrapped up in what was going on with our friends back in Idaho and making sure they didn't forget about us and I ended up being disappointed that they weren't trying as hard as I was to keep in touch. I finally thought, "this is never going to end unless I just let go."
Do you remember my family motto growing up? "If you can't do anything about it, don't worry about it." I couldn't make our friends miss us more, I couldn't make them pay more attention to me when they have their own lives. I couldn't change a single thing. So guess what I did Dad?!?!?......
Oh, you better believe it. I LET IT GO! I've been real bad at that whole "if you set your mind to it, you can do it..." kinda thing. Yeah, not really good at that. But by some pure miracle in my emotionally, bad connected brain, that night I did it. I just decided and I did it. Miracle.
Ever since then, it's like I've become me again. Still trying to figure that out still, but I felt free in a way. Free of all this emotional weight I'd been carrying around, when I didn't even have to do it in the first place.
I started running again. Eating better. Feeling better.
I'd also like to announce that in two weeks from today I will be COMPLETELY off my depression medication!
I've been taking it slow getting off, making sure I'm ready. That I can handle it. That I'll be okay.
I want to tell you that I'm okay. I'll be okay. It's been almost 9 months that I've been on it. To tell you the truth I'm proud of myself. I've been reading some of my past posts over the past several months and I've come such a long way.
Things aren't going to be perfect. In fact, I'm counting on them not being perfect, or even close really. Just better. I now have the tools and even better the confidence to help myself. To continue to overcome this nasty case of Postpartum Depression. I am not ashamed of it. I'm not scared of it. I know where I have the control and how to put that towards being a better me. A better mother and wife.
This will be a lifelong journey for me I'm sure. I will have more babies. I will have more struggles. Things will change in my life. People will change in my life. I'll have hard days and good days. I'm sure I'll be back here in the future with new confessions and new victories..this is not the end. I hope whoever reads this and whatever you're going through you can find hope in the future.
Hope, that there will always be better days ahead...
A dear friend of mine told me, that I'll eventually catch my breath again...
It feels good to breathe again.
Yours truly,
the unbalanced woman
I feel so incredible.
I finally feel at home here. We've made friends. Great friends. Who make us laugh and make us feel welcome. Who let us borrow tortillas and invite us over for Father Day dinner. Who stock our freezer with cinnamon rolls and who'll watch Baby P on a Friday night for us.
That first month was real hard. I cried almost constantly. Usually when people were around, why do our tears act like that is the MOST appropriate time to starting gushing?..when people are watching. Unpleasant.
I ached for our old friends. I looked through all our past pictures over and over and over... I was depressed. In a different way though. I constantly felt sorry for myself. I wasn't appreciating any of the goodness around me.
You know what got me out of it? I was so wrapped up in what was going on with our friends back in Idaho and making sure they didn't forget about us and I ended up being disappointed that they weren't trying as hard as I was to keep in touch. I finally thought, "this is never going to end unless I just let go."
Do you remember my family motto growing up? "If you can't do anything about it, don't worry about it." I couldn't make our friends miss us more, I couldn't make them pay more attention to me when they have their own lives. I couldn't change a single thing. So guess what I did Dad?!?!?......
Oh, you better believe it. I LET IT GO! I've been real bad at that whole "if you set your mind to it, you can do it..." kinda thing. Yeah, not really good at that. But by some pure miracle in my emotionally, bad connected brain, that night I did it. I just decided and I did it. Miracle.
Ever since then, it's like I've become me again. Still trying to figure that out still, but I felt free in a way. Free of all this emotional weight I'd been carrying around, when I didn't even have to do it in the first place.
I started running again. Eating better. Feeling better.
I'd also like to announce that in two weeks from today I will be COMPLETELY off my depression medication!
I've been taking it slow getting off, making sure I'm ready. That I can handle it. That I'll be okay.
I want to tell you that I'm okay. I'll be okay. It's been almost 9 months that I've been on it. To tell you the truth I'm proud of myself. I've been reading some of my past posts over the past several months and I've come such a long way.
Things aren't going to be perfect. In fact, I'm counting on them not being perfect, or even close really. Just better. I now have the tools and even better the confidence to help myself. To continue to overcome this nasty case of Postpartum Depression. I am not ashamed of it. I'm not scared of it. I know where I have the control and how to put that towards being a better me. A better mother and wife.
This will be a lifelong journey for me I'm sure. I will have more babies. I will have more struggles. Things will change in my life. People will change in my life. I'll have hard days and good days. I'm sure I'll be back here in the future with new confessions and new victories..this is not the end. I hope whoever reads this and whatever you're going through you can find hope in the future.
Hope, that there will always be better days ahead...
A dear friend of mine told me, that I'll eventually catch my breath again...
It feels good to breathe again.
Yours truly,
the unbalanced woman
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