Getting Okay with Gross

I am not a squeemish person.  I can kill spiders, scrape pumpkin goo, and get blood drawn without much of a fuss.  But after having a baby there some just plain gross things that can happen and others that are inevitable.  So I knew to anticipate lochia (which if you don't know what that is, that's a fun google search for you) and all the things that come with settling down of hormones. 

Speaking of...I woke up the other night sweated soaked.  It was disgusting.  I knew that it wasn't hot in the room and that there was no external reason for this to have happened.  Then suddenly, I could hear my mom's voice telling me about these awful night sweats she had been having.  Ugh, I was so grossed out, I dragged myself out of bed and went to the bathroom.  After flushing my face with cold water, I started looking at this old mug close up in the mirror and wondering when all this acne reappeared.  I did that thing where you look at each side real close and get more upset each time, but still keep looking.  I decided to try and be grateful that I had a short reprieve from it.  Well, since I was already out of bed and in the bathroom, I decided to go ahead and treat my hemorrhoids-FUN!  That process always gets me worked up and grossed out, and I realized I needed to reapply my deodorant, which normally works fine, but with my hormones they way they are, I need to start keeping the container in my pocket.  At precisely that moment, I realized how gross I am.

And it is not just that I am gross, my beloved son is also very gross.  I don't know with how many foot pounds of torque other babies poop, but my son has so much gusto that I am sure he could disprove physics laws for his size and poo power.  Around here, we call it "The Rocket Shits".  First, there is the look.  The face-puckering-I-am-working-here-look.  Second, the sound.  Third, the feeling of it.   Fourth, the smell.  He twosied  so intensely the other day, we both had to change clothes.  Shirt and pants!

In addition to The Rocket Shits (TRS-to save time), there was also a pee incident.  I was changing him the other day and while the diaper was off, he felt free to pee.  This happens from time to time and while it is kinda gross, it is an easy fix and smell free.  However, this particular day, I had just fed him.  He was starting to doze off, but I needed to change him and get him ready to go.  As I pulled the old diaper off of him, I was looking at his cute little face, and suddenly, it was getting wet!  Completely disoriented, I start looking at the ceiling for leaks, thinking that there is water coming into the room somewhere.  Finally, I feel it hit my arm and realize the source of the sprung leak.  I quickly through the old diaper on top and stop the fountain.  But then I panic! I looked down at his contented little face and I could suddenly picture myself on the phone with the pediatrician saying, "He peed in his eye!  Lord, help me, there is pee in his eye!"  I strip him down and head for the sink and flush his face with water the best I can.  I am about to cry and he doesn't seem to care at all.  My husband assures me that since it is sterile, he will be okay.  And he is, thankfully.

It is easy to get depressed about how gross my life has become, but we are starting to figure out that this is now our normal and work to find the humor in it.  Now, when little man gets TRS, we just pick him up and make lift off noises, do the NASA count down, and make other rocket jokes.  When I go into the bathroom and am reminded of all my grossness, I put earrings in.  It isn't much, but it is a start at looking decent. 

Be not afraid!

A lot of my posts have been about yikes moments and fears realized, but I wanted to share some happy endings.  There were a few things that I was apprehensive about facing, but I am happy to share with you some good outcomes.

1.  I was worried I wouldn't be able to handle the nighttime/constant demands of a baby.  There have been so many times when I have been dead to the world, then my little guy would tell me he needed me by crying, trying to latch-on to my arms/t-shirt, or rocket pooping out the back of his diaper and up his back, and every time, the strength and energy appeared to give him what he needed.  There were times I couldn't have formed a cohesive sentence or even managed to walk in a straight line, but if little man wanted to eat for an hour, the strength was there.

2.  Even if your partner watches the baby come out of your hooha, they'll still love you and find you attractive (in due time...j/k, well maybe).  I know I looked like a hot mess with my legs up, sweating, and making some strange noises, but thankfully he is either really quick to forget or actually really okay with it.  Have no fear, they will be questioning the doctor's "six weeks of not doing it" while you are still recovering.

3.  Bodies are very resilient.  So for nine months, you stretch out your skin, muscles, and clothes.  I was naturally curious about how my body would reset.  Everyone's body is different and the general consensus is that it takes nine months to put on the weight it should take nine months to take it off.  Here is the good thing though, everyday for over a week, you can watch yourself start moving back to normal.  The day after I had the baby, I looked about like I did at 6 months pregnant.  Then with each day I watched myself shrink a little more.  There are definitely some pounds that will be here until I decide to work up a sweat and fight them off, but know, after delivery you can eat like a fiend and you will still shrink up, at least for a little while.

4. The hospital to home transition was smooth.  At the hospital there is a feeling of security because medical professionals are checking on you and your baby often, so for a lot of people it is scary to go home.  However, I found it be wonderful.  The first night, we threw a pizza in the oven, wrapped all three of us in one blanket, and settled in for a marathon of Parks and Recreation.  It was exactly our life but with a new feeling of completeness.  When we went to bed I was exhausted but knew that I could very easily stay up all night worrying about the baby.  I desperately needed to sleep so I quietly sat down next to the bassinet and decided to let go of all the "what-ifs" and have faith that things would be fine.  And they have been.

A Few Surprises

As you know, I did a lot of reading and mental preparation to gear up for labor and delivery.  However, there are several things that caught me off guard during and shortly after.

Here is the list.

1. The shakes.  I was about two hours into labor, when started shaking.  It was like I was cold, my teeth were chattering and my whole body shook, but I didn't feel cold.  It scared me.  I thought maybe it was because I didn't eat anything before or maybe the pitocin was causing it.  I dealt with it for a while, then I asked my nurse about it.  Thankfully, she said that it was normal.  She said it is just something that happens to some women as their body works through labor.  The shakes came and went during labor, but were gone when it was time to push.  They returned after labor, but piles of blankets helped to warm and soothe them away.

2.  After working the downstairs to push a human out, everything is kind of...not normal.  For example,  when I got to my postpartum room, I felt urge to pee.  I knew that it was going to take me about 5 minutes to get up and shuffle the 10 feet to the loo.  I was on my way, and really feeling the need to get my cheeks on the seat, but could not get there fast enough.  Everything down there was so tired, that I did not have the ability to "hold it".  What I am saying is, I peed on the bathroom floor.  Two steps away from the toilet.  This happened twice before I figured out to just go to the bathroom every two hours regardless of need, to avoid this from happening again.  Also, the farts returned to the parade...there is no holding those back either.

3.  Little man's nipples were swollen and kind of hard.  Our pediatrician told us that he gets hormones from breastmilk.  Those same hormones may be responsible for his baby acne.

4.  On that note, I thought breastfeeding was going to be this quiet, tender bonding time with baby.  However, it hurts.  It's tricky.  And the solution is the lactation consultants/nurses all forcefully grabbing your boobs and shoving it into baby's face.  With time, it has gotten better.  I have been getting some help from my local Le Leche League.  If you find yourself in this same situation, you may find help at one of their meetings, here is how to find a meeting:
http://www.llli.org/

Baby Stats

The baby weighed in at 8 pounds 7 ounces.  A big jump from the estimated 7 pounds 3 ounces as determined by the ultrasound just 3 days before.

He was 22 inches long, which is aparently very long (according to the nurses).  I also learned that they do not measure the baby when they are first born.  The coning of the head makes for an extended measurement.  The nurses did not measure our little man until he was about 12 hours old.

He had hair.  When they first handed me our son, he was still wet and it looked like he had brown hair. It wasn't until that evening (after his bath) that I pulled his cap back and saw the little blonde locks underneath.

All fingers and toes were accounted for.  Thankfully, his nails weren't too long, which happens to a lot of babies, so he didn't have to wear the little mittens.

He has blue eyes.  When he decided to open his eyes, I saw that they were a really dark blue.  They have lightened since then, but are still a pretty, deep blue color.

He could hold his head up right from birth.  When the nurse laid him on my chest after delivery, he soon started lifting his head and began rooting around.  His neck is very strong, but looks so little compared to his head, that I have given him the unfortunate nickname of "Turtle Man".  He is too small to tell me he hates it, so for now, it's Turtle Man.

He has had the hiccups every day since he has been born.  He had them in utero as well, but they seem much more intense in the outside world.

Likes:
loud "shh-ing"
rocking chairs
rides in the car
putting his arms up next to his head when sleeping-he always looks like he is riding a roller coaster.

Dislikes:
sitting/resting in one position for too long
hiccups
sleeping after he kicks his legs out of the swaddle

I am learning so much about him.  I like knowing that his little personality is already in there and that he is already training me on how he wants things to be.

Push it! Push it real good!

*Warning: this is a labor and delivery story, not sparing any of the details*

On September 10th, at 7:00 am, I walked into the hospital ready to have a baby.  At the reception desk, I filled out some paperwork and waited (not patiently) to get up to the room.  Each thing I did was followed with an echo of, "That the last time you get out your insurance card/push the number 4 on an elevator/sign your name/etc. not as a mom".  At about 7:45, I made it to my room, put on my gown and climbed into bed.  The nurse came in and talked with me for a while, just getting to know me.  Then another nurse came in and asked me a lot of questions about my health history.  Shortly after she finished her questioning, the nurse anesthetist gave me the complete description of getting an epidural and I signed the release in the event that I decided to get some pain relief.

Then-showtime.  The nurse attached the IV and started the pitocin to induce labor and added a line of saline to keep me hydrated.  (Since I was being induced, I had been fasting for 12 hours and not had anything to drink.)  She then hooked up two monitors to my belly, one for the baby and one for me.  Then she put on the blood pressure cuff and a finger-squeezy-pulse-thing.  My doctor then stopped by and broke my water, which feels like you are peeing yourself and makes everything from there on out messy and gross.  By now it was about 8:30.

The first hour was very mild.  My parents stopped in to check on us and my husband showed me some funny online videos, but by 9:30 it was down to business.  I started to really feel the contractions and kept moving around to try to ease the pain.  I knew that I was supposed to be getting rest in between contractions, but the pain was constant.  I told my nurse, who decided to back down my pitocin.  Thankfully, once they jump started my labor, my body kicked in and started working on it's own.  Backing down the pitocin let me rest between contractions, and by about noon, they were able to take me off the pitocin altogether.  

I labored sitting on the edge of the bed, sitting on a yoga ball, and also tried just standing up.  My husband held my hands and counted to 20, then backwards back to 1.  I knew that when he said 20 the contraction was as bad as it was going to get and by the time he said 1 it would be over.  With every number he said, I squeezed his hands to give me an outlet for the pain.

I keep saying pain, let me say, it was unlike anything I have ever felt before.  In the beginning stages it felt like a strong period cramp (which I have had plenty of in my life), but as it progressed, I could feel the pain wrap itself around me from my back, then all the way around my stomach.  It absolutely hurt, but once it was over, I could rest and recover.  I found myself doing two things I didn't expect.  Swaying and moaning.  Just like it soothes a baby; it was very soothing to me.  It was like crowding my senses with other non-pain sensations.  Between contractions, I would just sway side to side and these little sounds kept escaping me.  I didn't really feel like I could control it.  I made no conscious choice to do these things and was barely aware that I was doing them.  

I kept up this routine, keeping my husband always in contact with me, throughout the morning.  The nurse and doctor checked me several times for dilation.  I was making good progress and faster than expected.  I don't know if it helped, but every time I had a contraction I thought about the baby moving down, that each pain was working to get this little one out into the world.

By about 12:45, they told me I could get into the shower.  I was dilated to an 8 and off the pitocin.  I was so grateful to sit in the warm stream of water and let it hit my back, but I only got to sit there for about 5 minutes.  The water so relaxing, that all of a sudden I yelled to my husband that it felt like I had to poop!  I knew that I wasn't really going to poop (I had already done that earlier in the labor process, and in the toilet-not the table, I might add) but it was that pushing urge.  He yanked the red emergency cord on the wall and the nurse was there.  They got me out of the shower and onto the bed, where the checked me again it was push time.

Best I can estimate, pushing lasted about an hour.  It was strange, I felt the need to push and thought I would know what to do, but really, I had no clue.  After kind of writhing around through the first real pushing contraction, the nurse called me by name and said, "You need to focus!"  She gave me about a thousand directions, legs here!, hands there!, head here!, etc.  It was hard to take it all in, but with some time, we got there.  I could feel when pushing was working and when I wasn't being effective.  This kept up for a while and the doctor and my husband gave me updates throughout.

People gave my husband lots of tips, mostly different forms of, "DON'T look down there!" However, when it was time to push, the nurse took my left leg and directed my husband to take the right one.  The two of them stayed there the whole time.  He could see the baby's head when it crowned and encouraged me to keep going.  I was glad it was him telling me what was going on. I didn't feel like he was watching this happen, he was in it with me, counting, breathing, and holding me up.  And I am eternally grateful for that.

I kept working to get this baby here but was struggling to get passed the baby's head.  So the doctor told my husband to look away and made an episiotomy.  When he finished, I knew this baby was almost here.  I have this quick snapshot image of the baby's quiet, gray face as the doctor worked the shoulders out.  He told me to give a strong push and my husband kept saying that the baby is "almost here".  My eyes were still closed tight when I felt that baby leave, the doctor told me to open my eyes and as I did, I saw them lifting the now-crying baby up onto my chest all wet and beautiful and slippery.  I just cried and cried, grateful that the baby had made it.  On the way to my chest my husband saw the evidence and told me that we had a boy.  

Our sweet little boy.

The Pregnancy Summary

I am 11 days passed my due date.  After a long week and a half of waiting, we decided, along with the support of our doctor, to schedule an induction. It was strange to think about picking our kid's birthday, but the nurse called the hospital to see if September 10, 11, or 12 were available.  Due to the hospital's schedule, our child will be born on Monday, September 10th (unless he or she decides to come on their own sometime before then).  

I am so relieved to know that this child will eventually be born.  It has been emotionally taxing awaiting their arrival.  I was truly beginning to feel like this would never happen.

So here are some last stats and a picture from my journey, as well as my hopes for delivery.  The next time you hear from me, I will be writing with a baby by my side, instead of on my inside.

Stats

Weight gained: 24 pounds

Belly Measurement: 39 cm

Cravings: No real food cravings, I just kind of like everything.  However, sometimes I crave particular movies and songs (examples include: Judd Apatow films and Bon Iver songs), it is weird, but it is like emotional craving.

Aversions: In the beginning raw meat was tough to handle, but that passed.

Baby's Size: measured in at 7 pounds 3 oz after an ultrasound on Tuesday (Note: there is a high rate of error with this kind of testing, it can actually be +/- a pound)

Stretch Marks: Just those two that extend from my belly button piercing scar tissue. Notice that the pictures are never from the front, that scar is real bad.

Sleep: Still managing at least 8 hours a night, but this requires 2 pillows, no blankets, and the ceiling fan.

41 weeks and 4 days.

Hopes for delivery

It is my second biggest hope that this child decides to join us before the induction.  I would really like to be able to get through the early stages of labor at home, eating and drinking freely, and then go to the hospital, where I would be able to be mobile and not attached to all the machines.  I have imagined a natural childbirth (pretty much exclusively) up until this point, one where I can move freely and really experience this child's arrival into the world.

Since an induction is very likely, I am learning to adjust my world view a little.  We talked with the nurse today and learned that I will be on a pitocin drip the entire time (attached to an IV) and will have to be constantly monitored (attached to another machine).  With these kinds of limitations, I will only be allowed trips to the bathroom and to stand bedside if needed.  I know that lots of women labor in bed, but I just didn't picture it that way when it was my turn.  I feel like labor is something that I do, not something that happens to me, and being told that I can't do things that I know could help, will be a real challenge for me. 

It is my biggest hope of all that by Monday night, I know my child.  The anticipation of meeting him or her has been constantly growing throughout this pregnancy.  I wonder if it is a boy or girl.  I wonder if they will have my husband's skin, which doesn't fry in the sun like mine.  I wonder if they will have his ability to break down dairy products.  I wonder if they will have to wear glasses like me.  My husband wonders if they will appreciate dissonance. 

Regardless of how this childbirth occurs, the end result is the arrival of our sweet Hummingbird.  I know I have my ideas and dreams about how that happens, but truly, there is nothing more that I can hope for then their safe passage onto this planet.

Peace and love to all of you who have read and supported me this far.  I can't wait to tell you about the gory details and beautiful moments about life as new mom.

40 Weeks...And Five Days

OVERDUE.  Perhaps this is karma getting back at me for a terrible library checkout record.  For someone who would like to pursue a masters in library science and who's mother worked in a library, my library permanent record is marred with multiple lost items, late fees, and cds returned without the paper inserts.  I am not this reckless in any other area of my life, I don't know what my problem is.

I feel like I am going to burst.  Physically and mentally.  Getting to 40 weeks was the goal all throughout pregnancy, but about 3 weeks ago the idea of actually having this kid got planted in my head.  People started asking questions at work, telling me stories about their early deliveries.  I started to dilate at 38 weeks, stopped gaining weight, and started into the random contractions.  I started to think this could happen anytime.  However, here I sit, at 40 weeks...plus a little extra.

And currently, I sit in a chair of depression.  It is very strange.  I did not anticipate feeling this way, but this last week has left me feeling very isolated and sad.  If you are pregnant, nursing, or may become pregnant, perhaps you have or will encounter the same thing:

"Did YOU have that baby yet?"
"Are YOU having any labor signs?"
"When are YOU going to have that thing?"
"Oh YOU need to: walk/have sex/eat Mexican/drink raspberry leaf tea/drink Castor oil/climb stairs/ jump up and down 357 times while singing Abba songs and wearing flip flops."

I love every person who said the above things to me, but there is a common element among them.  I know that it is bologna, but it makes me feel that I am doing something to keep this baby from coming. That some how I am in control of it and doing a bad job.

To add: I haven't worked in a week.  I normally work at least 50 hours a week away from home, plus another 5-10 at home.  It consumes my brain and was very helpful when trying to keep myself from constantly thinking about the baby's arrival.

+ I had great relief when the baby "dropped".  He/she got out of my lungs and off my stomach so that I could breathe and eat a little more.  However, this child is still growing and while they are definitely low riding at this point, their feet have extended back into my lungs and stomach bringing back the heartburn and side-cramp-feel-like-I-just-ran-a-mile feeling.

+ I always feel like I have to poop.  This is another thing that I never heard about, and maybe it only happens to me, but with this child's noggin pushing on my colon, I constantly feel like I got to go.

+I have all the signs of labor everyday, minus the water breaking.  Contractions, cramping, loss of appetite, diarrhea, pressure in the lower abdomen, and yet, nothing ever comes of it.

I know that has been a total gripe fest, but I am struggling.  I have felt pretty good throughout, but this has hit me hard.  There are more variables involved: my husbands 50+ hours a week work schedule that results in a lot of alone time*, the dadgum hurricane humidity that makes me feel like I can't breathe outside, and the fact that this kid is so low, and that I can't wear my maternity shorts (the seam where the elastic stops is higher than were the head is).  I just didn't see this coming and I feel bummed.

Even with all these things going on in my head and body, my doctor and I are in agreement that unless the baby or I am in distress, we are going to wait this out.  The added risks that come with induction, like increased length of labor and higher chance for C-section, convince me that I will wait for this to happen in its own time.  Until then, I will try to cheer up, but if you could send some good feelings my way, I would appreciate it.




*My husband works a lot and that is not a negative thing.  I love him like crazy and everything he does is help us out as a family.  He is putting a lot of time now so that he can take 2 weeks off when the baby comes.  I am grateful for his hard work, just sad to be without him so much of the time.*