Speaking My Truth

I was talking with a friend and my mom recently about how I’ve been struggling emotionally. I told them “I don’t understand why it comes so easily for some women, just to love being a mom. Why is it that some days I just hate it? I just want to enjoy it.”

Post partum depression is a monster. It sucks you into a cave when you’re actually supposed to be celebrating this beautiful thing you’ve just been given. Sometimes while you’re in the cave, the monster decides to ooze the horrendous slime of anger, guilt, jealousy, exhaustion. And sometimes the more you try to fight, the more sticky the slime becomes. You send yourself into spiral that seems never ending.

I scroll through social media while I’m nursing and maybe that’s not the best idea when I’m in my cave with my monster. But it kills the time. It seems that all the houses are so well kept, the kids are well behaved already knowing how to speak a second language and working on becoming the next -insert your favorite artist, scientist, designer, etc here-  The moms have their hair, makeup done, outfits perfect (what voodoo magic do you have to perform to make it so you don’t have spit up on everything by 10am? Because I need some of that!) But sometimes, I find myself asking how much of it is real?

I’m not saying that you can’t have your days where things are going your way. And if this is how you function day to day, I’m so impressed, more power to you, you do you! But behind the 1080 pixel squares, what is there?

My truth is being a mom is hard. Some days I don’t like it. I feel like crying multiple times a day. I get angry at a drop of a hat or more so the drop of a sippy cup. Most days I can barely shower so I survive on dry shampoo. My perfume (not of choice) is eau de regurgitated breast milk. I’m already tired from getting everyone ready and loading my kids in the car even before I make it to my destination so I don’t want to go anywhere.

Yet, on the flip side, there are dance parties in the kitchen. Working really hard to get baby giggles and getting lots of smiles. The pride that comes with hearing that your child can say their own name. Giggles while water splashes during bath time. And every day, I can’t imagine my life without these two.

I need to share both sides of my life with you because right now, the hard days are a majority of them. One day I hope it might not be like that, but for now it is.

Ultimately, I think we as a culture focus too much on how the world sees us and if it isn’t a good image, then we don’t show it. But some of my most beautiful and helpful relationships are filled with those people seeing me at my worst. They see me when I’m most vulnerable and they still love me. Vulnerability fuels connection.

So even though it’s hard to do, show your true self. Bed head and all, I’ll still love you.

Dirty Dishes and Hairy Legs

If you stepped into my house, right at this moment, you would think I just fed an army and did their laundry while I was feeding them. Which is 100% false. In fact, my husband hasn't been home much the past week and my son still only eats from bottles.

Then there is me. I have shaved my legs maybe 3 times since my son was born (6 months ago). I have spit up crusted on my skirt. I wake up, get myself and the baby ready, drop him of at his grandma's house, go to work, get home and try to manage the house. Before I fall into bed, exhausted, overwhelmed, and sometimes defeated.

But tonight the dishes can wait. 

Because in 10 years, he won't remember the dishes weren't always clean. He won't remember the pile of unfolded laundry that has sat on my dresser for the past few days. He won't care that I haven't shaved my legs. He will care that I played on the floor with him. He will know that I love him and want to make memories with him. He will know that it is OK to be overwhelmed sometimes and not do everything on your to-do list. He will know that his mama tried. 

So for right now, I'm ok with dirty dishes and hairy legs. 

Guest Post on "Love and Live It"

I had the wonderful opportunity to prepare a guest post for a dear friend of mine on her website. I love her website and what it stands for.

She asked me to share some of my thoughts on my experience of having my son in the NICU.

If you would like to read my post, you can see it here. While you are there, check out the rest of her wonderful content!

xoxo,

Becca

Becoming a Mother - Day 2

Friday, June 10th, 2016-

2am: My dad ended up bringing some baby blue nail polish in honor of our baby boy coming. My sweet mom (who hates feet) paints my toe nails.

The nausea and discomfort worsens throughout the night. Finally, because we all knew I was in for a long labor, the nurse brings me some medication to fight the nausea and some mild painkillers to allow me to get some rest.

I hoped that this also allowed my husband and mom to get some rest too. I close my eyes and what seemed like a second went by, my discomfort is back. I keep quiet as long as I can to let the others get some more rest. I turn on Last Man Standing as distraction and that wakes the room.

I look at the the clock. Its 5am. My doctor is going to be here in an hour to break my water and start the induction. My mom lets my husband rest some more. She talks to me. 

*Another note: If you are debating on whether or not to have your mom in the delivery room with you. DO IT! She has done this before and she will know what to say to comfort you, like moms always do. But then again, do what makes you feel comfortable so if having her there makes you less comfortable, then don't do it. :)

I won't go into detail of what she said to me, but we talked over what was going to happen and what I should prepare for.

6am: The doctor is late. (You notice those kinds of things when you want to have your baby, hehe.)

6:30am: He finally shows up. In one swift motion, he checks my cervix (dilated 1cm) and then breaks my water. To me, it did feel like a waterfall, but I still have heard it is different for every woman. They also turn on the pitocin.

Not long after, contractions pick up. They are small at first, but quickly grow with intensity. They begin to grow close together and I feel no let up from them. My stomach was constantly contracting, I felt like I could not breathe. 

They check my cervix, I am only dilated to a 2. Its going to be a long day.

10:30am: The contractions are piggy backing and are so strong, that I cannot get enough air and I choose to get an epidural. It takes the anesthesiologist takes a half hour to get there because he is helping an emergency case. That makes it a little easier to wait, thinking that he is helping save someone's life, still it felt like FOREVER. 

He makes it into the room and asks that only one person stays in the room with me. I ask my husband to stay so my mom and dad leave the room. I drape my legs over the edge of the bed and support myself on my husbands shoulder. First, there is a little prick as he gives me a numbing agent. Next he says "You will feel a bit of pressure and then a pop went I enter the epidural. Let me know if you feel a shooting pain down your legs."

It is kind of a scary thought that they are going to insert a needle into your spine without any guide. But this guy was so good and talked me through the whole procedure so that my nerves were calmed. I feel the pop, it means he is in. It takes a little while to get situated because he inserts the catheter and tapes the cord to my back so I do not pull too hard on it if I move at all. It is almost immediate that the numbness in my legs begins. I get help laying back down and then I get a fun catheter to collect pee since I cannot stand up. Luckily, you do not feel it at all. 

Since my monitors were falling off all morning (mostly because I was moving) they decide to insert some internal monitors. One attaches to the inside of the uterus to monitor contractions and the other they insert on the top of the baby's head to monitor heart rate during the contractions. They struggle to get the one attached to the baby. They have to take it out and try it again. The nurse says it is most likely because the baby has a lot of hair. Matt and I get excited because both of us were bald kiddos and it is exciting to get another idea of how your baby might look. They try again and it luckily sticks! 

They would check my cervix about every 1.5-2 hours and I progressed very slowly. Stayed at a 3 for a while. While they checked my cervix, they would reposition me in my bed. Since I had the epidural, I couldn't lay flat on my back (the meds will pool in your back and not work very well). 

The next few hours were GREAT! I no longer felt the contractions. I could watch TV, I could sleep, still couldn't eat, but thats OK! 

6pm: Slowly, I started feeling my left leg. It wasn't just pressure that I could feel. I could move my leg and I started feeling "pressure" like the baby was close to being ready to come out. It got to a point where the pressure turned into pain and the pain caused tears. My husband was on one side of the bed and my mom on the other. I looked up at them in tears and the pain became all consuming. The nurse came into check my cervix again to see if it was the baby ready to come. 

I was at a 6.

At that point, I lost it. I didn't want to do it anymore. I looked at my mom, "I don't want to do this anymore, mommy". Which caused her to start crying and she told me that if she could do it for me, she would. The anesthesiologist came in at this point and pushed an extra dose of the epidural. Miracle ... the pain subsided. I was able to relax again.  

8pm: The nurse continued to check on me throughout the evening. Once your water is broken, they check your temperature every few hours as well because they are concerned with you getting an infection. My temperature remained normal throughout the whole day.  Until now. I spiked a fever and they decided to push antibiotics as a precaution. They would give me three different antibiotics, each one a half hour apart. 

9pm: The nurse came back in ready to give me my last dose of antibiotics. First, she checked my cervix. 

"Guess what?"

"What?"

"You are at a 10. I am going to call your doctor and let him know."

Finally, it had been a long day and I was ready to be done. My doctor showed up, checked my cervix again and said that the baby was posterior. Meaning, rather than his face being towards my back, he was facing up. Because of this, the doctor told me that he wanted me to push for an hour and then he would come back and check to see how I was doing. Since the baby was posterior, that can increase the pushing time.

The doctor left and the nurse started prepping me to push. 

"Just so you know, first time moms can take anywhere from one hour to three hours to push their babies out," she said as she lifted my legs into those lovely stir-ups. 

I thought ... HECK NO! I wanted him out as quickly as possible and I did NOT want to push for three hours. My husband grabbed one leg and my mom the other. 

"Push down on their hands and grab the back of your legs. When I say push, I want you to push, breathe in, and hold it while I count to ten.

Ready? Push!"

I took that first breath and pushed. And pushed. At first, I felt like I didn't know what I was doing. But then I got to the point where I was giving it all I got. I grabbed the handrails on the bed to brace myself and pushed even harder. 

I kept looking at the clock. 15 minutes. 20 minutes. 30 minutes. Bad idea! Ask for the nurse to take it down, cover it, something! Just do not look at the clock! 

Clearly, I was going faster than they anticipated because the nurse told me to stop.

"I can see the top of his head!" both my husband and mom exclaimed! 

"If you keep pushing the baby will be here and we cannot rotate him." She called my doctor who said he was 20 minutes away.

At this point, the baby was ready to come out. I could feel him and my body wanted to take over.

Everyone kept telling me not to push. ARE YOU ALL CRAZY?!?! I thought as I wiggled to keep myself from pushing. 

People kept walking in and out of the room, none of which were my doctor.

A nurse came in and said, "Your doctor is getting scrubbed in and will be here shortly."

Could you tell him to hurry up?

"Thanks ..." was all I could muster and I don't think I said it nicely. I did feel like punching someone. Very forcefully. In the face. 

They pulled in the baby bed, a cart (which I later learned was for the placenta and other ickiness about to come out), and an ultrasound machine (which was to help the doctor view to make sure he was posterior and prep for the forceps). 

Finally, the doctor came in. Got gloves on and tried to turn on the ultrasound machine. It wouldn't turn on. 

"Get me a new one in here please." So they rolled another GIANT ultrasound machine in the room. At this point there was all the equipment, the doctor, my nurse, a second nurse for the baby, a NICU nurse (because it was an assisted delivery), my mom, my husband, and my dad in the room. You could not walk across the room if you tried. 

The doctor was able to get the ultrasound machine to work. Checked the baby and prepared for the delivery. 

"I need you to do a big push and hold it for me, OK?"

"OK"

I pushed and held it. I couldn't exactly tell you what I was feeling, but I do know that the doctor was placing the forceps around the baby's head and turning him over to assist him out of the birth canal. 

"Good!"

It took a few minutes, but after the baby was positioned, it was like he fell out. I was done. The baby was out! 

10:25pm: I was a mom! 

Becoming a Mother - Day 1

Thursday, June 9th, 2016-

8am: Wake up. The nerves set in. "Prepare to be at the hospital at 4pm," the words echo in my ears from my last doctors appointment earlier that week. I began my day like any other day. I drive my husband to work so I can pick him up on our way to the hospital. To take my focus of the excitement that is to come, I head to my parents' house. 

Noon: I start to get hungry and my mother made the point to check if I needed to avoid eating since I was going in for an induction. I call the hospital and am told to leave a message for the charge nurse. 

What seems like an eternity later, I get a call back. I need to call back at 3:00 to see if they have a room available for me.  But I can eat. Not that I really want to. My mom picks up Taco Bell and says this might be the only thing I can eat for awhile once I go in to the hospital. I force myself to eat the tacos that throughout my pregnancy I craved. The nerves start kicking in even harder. I ask my sister to come snuggle with me while we watch Zootopia. I find a chance to get a little nap. 

3pm: I pick up my phone and dial the hospital again. Still no room. Another 3 hour wait and they want me to call back again. I go pick up my husband from work anyways and we head home to make sure our bags are packed and get the last minute chores completed. 

After the chores are completed, bags and car are packed, we find a chance to relax and watch Last Man Standing. Again, I find a chance to take a nap. We also take the final "baby bump" picture.

6pm: Once again, I call the hospital. Again, there is still not enough room. This time though, they tell me to just come in at 10pm.

My mom offers to make whatever dinner I want, I choose strawberry salad. I sit, anxiously waiting for 10pm to roll around.

9:30pm: Finally it becomes time to head to the hospital. I drive our car with my husband next to me, a bag for the two of us, a bag for our little guy, and a carseat in the back ready for our sweet baby to join us. We pull up into the parking lot of the hospital and its game time.

10pm: It kind of turned into a blur of needle pokes, IV inserts, nausea, pain, and exhaustion over the next few hours. 

*Note: I really wanted to paint my nails before I went into the hospital. My mom decided she would paint my nails in the hospital, but we forgot the nail polish. We send my dad to the store to find some. 

IVs ... stink! 100%. Especially when you have "crappy veins" as my nurse put it. Took her two failed attempts, one in my left wrist and again in my right, then she suggests having someone else try. (She had a streak of not poking people more than three times.) Another nurse walks in and they successfully administer an IV on the top of my right hand. 

A little later, my doctor walks in (in a Hawaiian shirt) to insert the prostaglandin to begin cervical ripening. He also decides to give the pelvic exam from hell (i.e. he strips my membranes). Immediately, I begin feeling what starts out as cramps similar to those on a menstrual cycle. Slowly, they escalate into cramps that make me throw up and make me unable to sleep. 

To ensure the gel remains on the cervix, you are told to lie flat on your back for an hour. That was a pretty long hour. 

Suggestions from my husband, mom, and nurse were taken into consideration. I walk the short distance from the labor & delivery unit to the unit desk and then half way down the postpartum hall. It didn't help. I felt worse. Almost to the point of sitting on the floor in the middle of the hallway. With a hospital gown on, with no underwear. (And I am a person who wears flip flops into the shower at a hotel). 

We return to my room. I throw up again. I sit in the bed trying to find some relief from the nausea and discomfort. Nothing seems to help. My mom tries to distract me with my TV. Still not working. It continued through the night ...