I Wimped Out and a Pregnancy Retrospective

Actually, the phrase "cop out" comes to mind. I have been feeling guilty about taking the baby out, which I've done a few times (which is a few times more than I'm comfortable with). So did I spend my time at home with my baby? Well, no. But I didn't go to the talk, either. After taking her out yesterday and trying out the sling, I decided I needed more practice with it before using it ANYWHERE. She cried when I was putting her in it! She didn't do that the first time I tried, though she is a few days older and more aware of things now than she was the first time. I am a failure with slings & things overall, but I am determined to make one work! And then there's the nursing--while she nurses extremely well, her nursing habits are not yet well-formed, if that makes sense, so I never know when she will fall asleep, when she's really finished, when she will start to fuss again, etc. So I thought that maybe this would be rushing it a bit. Convinced? Well, all of these things were factors. But perhaps I realized, too, that it really wasn't how I wanted to spend my afternoon. I wanted to listen to the talk & participate (although I did NOT feel like doing anything academic last night--I was a bit hormonal, truth be told, and had had a day with a lot of emotional ups & downs). However, I'm enjoying having all of my family around right now (husband, two daughters, son when he's not at school). So while I'm finding myself positively climbing the walls because I want to go places & do things (and NOT rest!!), I don't necessarily want to do them alone. And I want to do important things like shop for strollers, not frivolous things like attending academic talks! (Priorities, priorities)

So these weeks are proving difficult for me, NOT because I am feeling so bad and suffering from lack of sleep, but because I am feeling so good. The curse of a quick recovery is that you want to go back to the things you were doing before, NOW--not later. In my case, I am feeling better now than I was throughout most of my pregnancy. I don't mean to sound like the pregnancy was bad--it wasn't. I had a few aches & pains, but they were never constant or severe. No swelling at all until the end, and then barely worth mentioning. But I was tired. Soooooo tired. The kind of tired that feels drug-induced. My waves of tired reminded me of the irresistable sleep of Benadryl. Complete with the hangover. And this had been with me since the summer, regardless of the iron or vitamins or diet (or caffeine, some days). So for the first time in months I have my normal energy level again, and my mind and my body alike are relieved. I know, how odd--a new mother who claims to have energy. Well, I guess my body finds making milk easier than nourishing a growing baby inside. I have been pregnant or breastfeeding (and for a while, both) for almost 3 years now, and I guess my body is saying, "O.K.--this is the easy stuff!" Also, the baby is sleeping. Shhhh! Don't tell! A breastfed baby--sleeping! Well, it doesn't hurt that she emerged the size of a 1+ month-old. So for the past few nights she has slept for 3- and 4-hour stretches at a time, allowing me as much as 7 hours of sleep a night, and last night she actually slept for 5 hours straight. Even in the hospital she would sleep 3 or 4 hours, which made me more nervous then because my toddler had a really hard time "waking up" after birth. She wouldn't wake up to eat. And then she became jaundiced, and our problems multiplied. But this baby isn't sleepy. Not that way. Even in the hospital she woke when she was ready to eat--and only when she was ready. And she still does. Although she will sleep longer when held--like now for example. She is on my lap. (I like to type with a baby on my lap--provided she's too young to try to help!)

I also feel better mentally than I have in months. The whole pregnancy was filled with "what-ifs" for me. . . and now they're gone. The baby is healthy, she fits seamlessly into the family, the toddler doesn't feel threatened, and I do indeed feel like doing things (and I feel like I can do things!)--all worries that I had while pregnant. She is sweet and beautiful and I love her. And I guess I know in a more tangible way before--from renewed experience rather than just theory--that babies are possibilities rather than difficulties. They make us resourceful. They lift us up rather than weighing us down. But I have realized that after my toddler was born in October 2005, in the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina, with family difficulties all around, with the circumstances of her birth--3 weeks early, her jaundice, her sleepiness, her weight loss, I was stressed, I was exhausted, I was weighed down, and I believe I was depressed. I looked at the time, and I did not have the textbook symptoms of "postpartum depression." For one thing, my negative feelings were never directed toward the baby. But I was depressed nonetheless. I did eventually "snap out of it," which, for some, might indicate that I was not depressed. But what snapped me out of it was the decision to make an appointment with a counselor. I canceled the appointment, but from that day forward, things became better. And then I became pregnant (well, not immediately. . .). But it's not difficult to see, with so much negativity following the birth of my second child why pregnancy might inspire mixed feelings ("openness to life" notwithstanding--but I think one can be "open to life" but not prepared for it. . .).

And then there was the birth. I have mentioned before that I had pitocin for my first and second because of leaking amniotic fluid without contractions. The second time was a disappointment because it was a repeat of the same scenario, though there were elements of satisfaction--like only pushing for 15 minutes and no episiotomy, only a slight tear. But the memory of intense, unmanageable pain was too recent. I was afraid. So that added to the anxiety of the pregnancy.

What have I learned? That I love my babies. That my family is strong enough to accept new additions. (My toddler--who met the baby only 11 days ago--thinks her as much a part of the family as any of us now, and includes the baby when she wants us all together.) That my body can go into labor on its own, quite efficiently, and that I can deliver a baby with minimal medical intervention (or does what I did qualify as no medical intervention? no--there was an IV--hate those things). That I can manage pain. That the first two weeks postpartum can be easy--actually easy!! I think I needed to learn these lessons. And finally, that quick recovery makes me stir crazy!!!

(More LDR talk to come--sorry!)

I did it! She's here!!--UPDATE

Well, having finished blogging and gone to bed after a contraction or two at 12:30 or so, I was awakened at 3 A.M. (or so) by my toddler whimpering in her sleep :( and another contraction (they seemed only to come at 3 A.M.). This was it! In not too long, I realized that they were coming rather quickly, but I didn't think they were lasting long. Not so, but the tough part was over quickly. I managed pain courtesy of back rubs from my husband (who barely left my side in spite of his efforts to pack things) & an on-the-knees position. I took one bath at 3:15, then another while my husband picked up my brother (the only one of my siblings who could make it at that time) to stay with my other two. I had already had a bath before going to bed (which means that I probably went to bed at more like 1 A. M.--adjusted time). I arrived at the hospital at 4:30 or so, waited for a while to be escorted to Labor/Delivery, where I delivered a beautiful healthy girl at 6:07, with no anaesthesia, no pitocin, no episiotomy, and no stitches. Yay!! Even had I wanted anaesthesia, it wouldn't have been available to me. I'm still a bit overwhelmed by it all. I mean, less than 12 hours ago, I was wondering how much longer I would have to be waiting. Now she's here! The nurse thinks that the only reason I didn't deliver at home or on the way here was because the water didn't break. Hah! Considering that's what happened the first two times. . . The doctor was going to rupture the membranes, but she didn't have to. The baby is 9 lbs. 0.5 oz. Oh, and vocalization helps immensely! At times, I probably sounded like I was doing voice exercises. Anyway, I can't believe I'm blogging this!! Not even 12 hours later! But I couldn't sleep. I'm riding on a serious adrenaline rush.

One regret at this point--they put her on a blanket on my chest, but I haven't been able to breastfeed or really hold her. She didn't cry enough immediately to get the fluid out of her lungs, so they took her to the nursery to observe her. She's O.K. now and sleeping, or so I hear. So I guess I'll see her soon. I keep having, "Okay--I want my baby now" feelings. Hey, I worked hard for that baby (for three hours)!! :)

UPDATE: Okay, I had her weight wrong. *ahem* She's 9 lbs. 8 oz. She beat her brother's record by an ounce and a half. (!!!!!!!!!)

I also did get to hold & breastfeed her, finally. It is 11:40 now and she just left (after a little over an hour) to be re-checked for temperature and oxygen level. But she nursed very well before she left. She's a natural! A little moosette (since her brother was our little moose!). ;)

New Labor Strategy

Okay, my husband has just volunteered to make a PowerPoint for me of things and people who annoy me. I'll call it "Labor Antagonism Technique," write a book, and make my first million. I'll advocate getting rid of all of this mamby-pamby Easy-Listening and New Age-y music in favor of some rap and heavy metal. That'll do the trick!

Finding Inner Strength. . . If you can call it that!

I've been struggling for some time now (since I discovered that I was pregnant, truthfully) with the prospect of labor. Having had the same scenario play out with both pregnancies so far--membranes rupture or leak, admitted to hospital, no contractions, can't stimulate contractions, pitocin administered, pain unbearable, epidural, wait the requisite amount of time, baby!--I fear the same scenario will occur again, but I also fear the possibility that the same scenario will NOT play out again, and that I simply won't be able to cope with labor. From the beginning I had moments of panic--they went away, but are resurfacing--and I feel that I am just not up to this challenge. Now, I am a very determined person. For me to so completely lack personal resolve--or to waver the way I have been--and to have the urge simply to cave in without a fight is totally uncharacteristic and deeply disturbing. And the reason I say "cave in without a fight" is because truly, I do believe that natural childbirth is my preferred option. But my mind keeps telling me, "I just can't. . ." With the other two pregnancies, I always felt that I could muster up the strength when I needed to. This time, I guess I still think that deep inside, but since I know I don't really have to--that is, that medical intervention is waiting for me to wimp out--I just focus on the fear and the memories of the last time and conclude that I'm not up to the challenge. Sad.

So I am enrolled in "Active Childbirth" classes--or something--currently, which is the closest to real Lamaze that is offered in this area. Actually, it rather skips the patterned breathing of Lamaze, instead focusing on deep breathing and focused relaxation, very much like yoga, so I'm pretty much in tune with it there. My problem is that watching births and hearing about certain stages of labor--Transition in particular--fills me with such deep anxiety that I REALLY NEED the focused relaxation by the end of the class. I take this as a really bad sign. When we discussed Transition on Monday night, I really had a hard time because Transition is the stage of "natural" labor that most resembles (emotionally and physically) the experience of intense, no-epidural pitocin-contractions, at least in my experience. Especially the feeling of not being able to cope. Yes, pitocin is perpetual Transition. I just had to write that because of the oxymoron.

Last night I asked my husband if it seemed defeatist just to resolve to go as long as I can naturally. He didn't think so. That resolve alone lifted a burden, although I have never said definitively that I would refuse the epidural at all costs, not even with previous pregnancies.

But today, I think I may have discovered a source of determination. I think it was there on the first night of classes, but it went away. And that source of determination is from the depths of my ornery being: I find strength in resolving to fight others. This is not something I'm particularly proud of, but hey, if it works. . . So in thinking about writing the birth plan and fighting for my rights with the hospital staff, I find a kind of inner strength. Not a peaceful inner strength, but it's something to build on, I guess!