I know I’ve been mainly blogging about makeup, The Bachelor, and recipes but this morning I got inspiration from an ODD place to write about something more personal.
A guilty pleasure of mine is mindless Lifetime movies. For years, I have watched them and probably killed many brain cells in the process but I just can’t help myself. This morning I was up early before everyone else. I was sitting on the couch with my coffee, enjoying the silence and avoiding social media and the internet. Thirty minutes later I decided to watch a new Lifetime movie I saved on the DVR {don’t judge me lol}. From the info, it said it was about a new mom going through postpartum depression and joins a mom group while unknowingly befriending a crazy person. I appreciated that they included more than just the exciting parts about being a new mom. Usually you see she’s really happy and even has clothes on that aren’t yoga pants and covered in spit-up. The worst they might show is she’s tired. This mother had a mess of an appearance, struggling to breastfeed, not getting enough sleep, recently lost her mother to cancer so didn’t have that support, crying a lot, feeling unattractive to her husband, etc. I related to just about ALL of that. My son just had his 4th birthday last month and this movie inspired me to share his birth story, my postpartum experience, and everything leading up to finding out I was pregnant with him.
In early May of 2014, I learned I was pregnant for the first time. My husband {we weren’t married at the time} and I had been trying for over a year to get pregnant so when the test came up positive I was shocked and in disbelief. We were so excited that we decided to drive up north that night to tell his parents in person and I called in sick to work. My mom lived 2 minutes away so we went over and told her in person, too. We didn’t go public but we were slowly telling family members. Mother’s Day was that Sunday and the day just felt really special. The next day at work by 4:00, I started cramping. They weren’t terrible so I didn’t think too much of it. I texted my mom asking if cramping was normal this early {I estimated I was 6 weeks along}. She said yes because your body is basically stretching to make room for the growing baby. The cramps gradually got worse and the worse they got the more nervous I got. I didn’t get off work till 6 and I told my husband what was going on. He tried to say that maybe it was nothing but asked if we should go to the hospital. I tried objecting even though I was in pain because I didn’t want to face my worst fear. As I was crying on the floor in the hallway, he said “We’re going.” I went to the bathroom to change and noticed blood in my underwear. I sobbed as he tried to say it was probably nothing too serious but in my heart of hearts, I knew. I remember us being told to “have a seat” after we told the front desk I was pregnant and bleeding and in pain. They said they couldn’t offer me anything for the pain but I could take Tylenol. He went across three street to get me some and not long after taking it, I had to run to the restroom to throw up. I also had to pee and I had black pants on so I didn’t notice I was covered in blood. I sat on the bathroom floor crying and begging my baby not to leave me. After FINALLY being called back, thanks to an absolute dickhead of an ultrasound tech, I learned I lost the baby. He acted like my goldfish died. The doctor later told me I’d likely pass the baby naturally but if I was still bleeding after a few days to come back in and they’d remove it. I couldn’t believe what was happening. That morning I woke up pregnant and so happy. I went to bed that night the complete opposite. When we left I said I didn’t want to try getting pregnant for awhile. After a couple weeks I was still struggling. My emotions were all over the place. If I was alone, I was crying. I felt angry and betrayed by my body. I felt scared I would never be a mother. I didn’t know if I’d ever feel happy again.
Memorial Day weekend approached and my husband said we should go away for the weekend to the beach to get our minds off everything. It helped A LOT. It didn’t take away the pain I was feeling but it was a start. The next month, I noticed I hadn’t gotten my period. The hospital didn’t inform me of how my cycle would be effected or anything like that so I couldn’t tell if I was actually “late” or not. For the heck of it I decided to take a test. It was positive. It was actually hard to get excited because I thought maybe it was just my hormones thinking I was still pregnant from before. A couple weeks later, still no period. Another positive test. We decided to accept I was pregnant but we avoided telling people until I was further along and the doctor said everything was fine. We didn’t go public {other than family} until I was in the 2nd trimester. By then, I couldn’t hide my belly or why I was eating chicken strips everyday.
A couple weeks before my due date, we were told my son was breech. My doctor said we’d need to schedule a c-section in case he didn’t turn. A week later he was still the same so it was confirmed I’d be having surgery. I was so nervous and uneasy about it. The idea of surgery freaks me out. One of the hardest parts was having to fast prior to going in. I was so used to scarfing down 2 bowls of Oatmeal Squares cereal every morning then eating anything that wasn’t nailed down. I couldn’t even have a glass of water. When we got to the hospital, I had to have all these IVs put in, be hooked up to a monitor, and asked a bunch of questions. One of the nurses asked, “On a scale of 1-10, how are your contractions?” I looked at him and said “I’m having contractions?” He must’ve thought I was this freak of nature because he couldn’t believe I didn’t realize I was having them. Then he laughed and said “Well, I wouldn’t brag about that to any other mothers.” They wheeled me back into the OR by myself so they could give me the spinal block. The anesthesiologist had me nervous cause he had to try a couple times before getting it. After that is when my husband was allowed to come in. My body going COMPLETELY numb was unlike anything I’ve ever felt in my life. It was a scary feeling because I thought “They could chop my legs off and I wouldn’t even know.” I had told myself prior to that day “Don’t look at the tools” so I didn’t look around when I was in there. I also didn’t Google anything about it to avoid freaking myself out. I was glad the anesthesiologist told me that it’ll feel like I can’t breathe even though I can. He was right. It felt like someone was sitting on my chest but I had to remind myself I could breathe. Other than pulling and tugging, I did not feel a thing. It was kind of funny because the doctors were talking about crawfish and the Kardashians as they were performing the surgery. Next thing I know, my baby was out and my doctor said “Oh he’s pooping on us” lol. I couldn’t believe he was now here and out of my tummy. When they showed him to us, it was love at first sight. It was so surreal to finally meet him and see what he looked like. He was my husband’s little mini. He got to cut the cord then I got to hold him on my chest for a few minutes before they took him to get cleaned and everything. It wasn’t long enough. After they closed me up I had to be taken to a room to recover for 2 hours. I should’ve slept but I think I was on such a high that I couldn’t. I did try eating some ice and I shortly threw up after. I was throwing up every 15 minutes. Even when they gave me anti-nausea medicine I still threw up. It wasn’t until they FINALLY brought my Brody in that the nausea went away. I just wanted my baby in my arms.
I had to stay an extra day in the hospital because Brody was having latching issues. It was so frustrating because I just wanted to be home. I was beyond exhausted, felt dirty, and missed my bed. Anytime Brody and I would try to sleep, we’d get woken up for something. My husband finally told the head nurse to make sure no one bothered me unless it was an emergency so I could get some sleep. I wasn’t a fan of the lactation consultant either. She wasn’t the friendliest and didn’t make me comfortable with trying to nurse. I had Brody on Tuesday and we didn’t get to leave until Friday. I fibbed a little on his feeding chart and the consultant saw him nurse for a few minutes so we were able to go home. Hallelujah!!
Being at home with a new baby felt exciting but also scary. All the books in the world don’t prepare you for what you’re in for. Nothing prepares you for how sleep-deprived you are {thank goodness for DVR to entertain me at 2 am}, when your baby isn’t latching, how disgusting you feel, the way your body feels, the pain from trapped gas, changing your shirt 7 times a day, questioning if you’re doing everything {or anything} right, hair loss, weight changes, etc. My milk came in but Brody still wouldn’t latch for long, if at all. I became so engorged I was in tears from the pain. Even just wearing a loose t-shirt was painful. I was also frustrated because he needed to eat. My husband went out to Walmart to get me a pump so I didn’t explode. At first, since I was sore, it hurt but then felt amazing to have that relief. I was so full I filled up the 2 bottles that came with the pump. That pump had magic powers or something because after that, Brody latched like it was nothing and never looked back. The only downfall with him latching was it was ALL he wanted to do. If he wasn’t sleeping, he was attached to me. His naps weren’t long so I had to sit there and think “Should I eat? Should I nap with him? Should I prep dinner? The laundry needs folding. The sink is full. But I REALLY need to shower.” I couldn’t do ALL of it. Looking back, I wish I chose sleeping or eating every time. I gained between 40-50 pounds and lost it all and then some due to giving birth, nursing, and not having time to eat enough. He nursed so much that I had to research ways to increase my milk supply. I tried making lactation cookies {those things aren’t cheap}, guzzling water, fenugreek, power pumping {which is a freaking joke, just sayin}, etc. Nothing seemed to help. It didn’t help my stress when know-it-all, judgy mothers from Facebook mom groups put their two cents in. If only they had seen the night where I was sobbing because my baby is screaming because he wants milk and I’m not making enough and my nipples were so sore it was excruciating to even touch them. Or the nights I sat in the bathroom while the shower ran just to calm him down. There were many nights where we’d drive to McDonald’s for smoothies and fries when only a car ride would calm him down. Again, not a soul or book prepared me for all of it. I hated that my usual clean and styled hair became a daily, dirty messy bun. My daily attire became yoga pants and a tshirt or tank top. I always smelled like spit-up and old milk. I became so skinny I looked sickly. I was going more bald by the day. My cute bras no longer fit. I felt so unattractive. I didn’t miss my job but I missed the social interaction and earning a paycheck. I know I wasn’t alone, but I felt alone ALL the time. Motherhood is one of those things where you expect it to be hard, but you never expect HOW hard until that day comes. You think you’re prepared as long as you have the basic necessities for the baby, but you’re not prepared with what YOU will go through.
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