Tuesday, February 25, 2014

Seriously?

About two weeks ago, Lily was cluster feeding like crazy.  It was really difficult, painful, and it felt like forever.  Things calmed down and her growth spurt ended.  The next day, I received an unsolicited package of formula from Enfamil.  I cannot express just how happy I was that it came after the cluster feeding nightmare, during which time I was seriously questioning how much I wanted to breastfeed because it is hard.  To try and deny that is insanity.  Breastfed babies eat more frequently, sleep less deeply, and are much more mama-intensive.  I'm told it gets better at the six week mark, but it took everything I had to get through that growth spurt.

So when I received that package of formula that I didn't request (against international law, I might add) I was pissed.  The formula companies are betting on some poor new mom like me receiving that in the throes of what I was going through and deciding that maybe it's worth it to just give one bottle of formula.  The thing is that if you don't feed a newborn (or any baby) on demand, it can mess up your body's cues to the brain to increase milk supply so that you don't have to continue to cluster feed because your body increases milk supply and the baby gets more at one feeding.  So that mother who gave her baby "just one bottle" of formula can very easily end up having less milk and eventually exclusively formula feeding.

For the record, this post is absolutely not intended to knock mothers who formula feed.  Sometimes breastfeeding can't or doesn't work for any number of reasons and having formula available is absolutely necessary and a great thing.  But it makes me livid that the formula companies in this country blatantly ignore international law to send unsolicited samples to new mothers when the mere presence of that formula in the home significantly increases the likelihood that breastfeeding will fail.

Since I didn't get anywhere even remotely in the vicinity of the birth that I wanted, not struggling with the ability to breastfeed has been a huge blessing (even if it has been trying).  My hope is that all women who desire to breastfeed have a supportive partner who will help them make it through the difficult periods even if a box of formula ends up on the doorstep.  And if it does, consider donating the sample to a crisis pregnancy center or other center for women and children in need.

Wednesday, February 12, 2014

Grieving

I've been wanting to sit down and write this post for a few days but haven't had the chance because Miss Lily has been nursing like a fiend and typing with one hand is slightly difficult.  In any event, I know that I wrote in my last post that I was at peace with what happened during Lily's birth.  I was and still am at peace with why it happened.  I had a partial cord prolapse that could have resulted in serious injury or death for Lily.  I did what any sane person would do and agreed to the medical procedure that would result in the best outcome for her.  But I still don't understand why.

I have wanted a natural childbirth my whole life.  It's all I ever wanted and I prepared for it.  I took childbirth classes.  I chose The Midwife's Place (cannot say enough good things about them, by the way!) and a midwife instead of a hospital/OB for my care.  I did everything I could have done to prepare for the birth I desired.  At my last check before the c-section, I was at 6 cm and I was barely uncomfortable with contractions 2 minutes apart and 1 minute long.  Two hours later, right before her heart rate dropped, I finally had to get up and change positions because it was getting to be too much.  I don't know how far along I was, but I'm guessing I was really quickly coming up on transition.  And then everything went to hell in a hand basket.

I am struggling so, so much with what happened and the way that it did.  When they told me I needed a c-section, they pulled Matt away and were getting him scrubbed up so I didn't get to talk to him at all.  All I wanted to do was to see him and they wouldn't let him in the OR.  The last thing I did before I went under general anesthesia was to tell the nurse and the anesthesiologist to tell him I loved him.  The only reason I didn't lose it completely is because the anesthesiologist told me I couldn't cry because she needed a clear airway. I had no idea what was going to happen, but I was terrified that something was going to happen to me and I wouldn't get to say that to him myself.  It was literally my worst fear coming true.

Afterward, I woke up to a room of people who all got to witness the first hour of my daughter's life.  It kills me to know what I missed.  I didn't get to hear her first cry or see them weigh her or measure her or to cut her cord.  I didn't get that amazing flood of oxytocin that was one of my primary reasons for wanting a natural birth in the first place.  I was the last person in the room to find out she was a girl.  It kills me.

I feel like I failed.  Like my body failed.  Like I'm already a terrible mother.

I shouldn't have to have a second-hand account of my daughter's birth.  I should get to tell people all about how it happened and how hearing her cry was the greatest sound I've ever heard and how beautiful natural childbirth can be.  And instead I'm stuck with, "Actually, I was unconscious when she was born and was just coming out of general anesthesia when I saw her for the first time and I barely remember it."

I shouldn't have crazy anxiety about Matt every time he leaves the house.  I can't go 5 minutes without worrying something's happened to him.  (For what it's worth, I did talk to a therapist about this.)

I have cried so many tears and prayed so many Hail Marys and pleaded with God more times this past week than I care to admit.  I don't think I'll ever stop analyzing every moment of my labor and every action I took.  I don't even want to think about what happens three or five or seven years down the road when Lily asks me about her birth.

For now, I just need prayers. For what, exactly, I'm not sure.  I don't think I'll ever understand why, but maybe I can come to terms with the fact that this did happen and it happened for a reason.  Just please keep me in your thoughts and prayers because I need them.  More than I've ever needed them before.

Sunday, February 2, 2014

Lillian's Birth Story!

The short version of Lily's birth story is this: If you want to make God laugh, tell him your plans.

The long version is slightly more complicated…

On Friday (40 weeks, 6 days) we went in for our appointment and to do a non-stress test to make sure everything was good with the baby.  Things for the NST went perfectly.  The amniotic fluid index was definitely not the same story.  They don't want amniotic fluid levels to go below 7, really, but anything below 5 is really bad.  The tech did the ultrasound and I had a whopping 2.5 cm of fluid.  Because of the conversation I'd had with my midwife in the appointment prior to the testing, I knew this meant induction.  The baby's health and safety were at risk, so even though I was really upset about it I knew that I wouldn't fight it because getting her out safely was my biggest concern.  My wonderful midwife allowed us to be discharged from the hospital after the NST so that we could go home and I could collect my thoughts and get my head together after having a breakdown about the induction.

Matt and I were able to go home and make sure we had everything we could possibly need.  We called our pastor and I was also able to go in for confession and we received a blessing.  The thing our pastor kept saying was to pray for peace, which was quite difficult after hearing about the induction.

When we got to the hospital, I was checked and wasn't far enough along to go with Pitocin but I wanted to avoid that as much as possible anyway.  We started with a drug called Cytotec which I took every 4 hours.  I wasn't making much progress at all after about 12 hours of that, so we decided to do a Foley Bulb which is a manual, more natural method of induction.  It started contractions at about 8 am Saturday morning.  Unfortunately, things weren't progressing like they should be and even though I'd made some progress, at about 5 pm my midwife said that Pitocin was probably our option.  I wasn't ready for that so I asked for 2.5 hours with my doulas to see if we could get things going.  By the time the 2.5 hours were up, I was exhausted and had made no additional progress.  At that point, I consented to start Pitocin and hoped that being on the continuous monitor and the more intense contractions wouldn't force me to give up my dream/goal of a natural birth.

As it turned out, I was kind of a rockstar at labor.  From what Matt, my doulas, my midwife, and the nurses all told me, if you didn't know I was in labor you wouldn't believe it.  By about 4 am, I was really having to focus during the contractions and make sure someone was rubbing my back as they were going.  I decided to sit on a chair instead of laying in bed like I had been because there was a little less pressure.  That's when things started going downhill quickly.  I sat on the chair and Lily's heart rate dropped from 120 to 60.  It stayed consistently low for 9 minutes.  I was put back in bed, on oxygen and told to roll from side to side to get her heart rate up.  After being told a c-section was a real possibility, I started to pray the Hail Mary desperately.  Right after that, her heart rate popped back up and we were back on track…for about two minutes.  After that, her heart rate dropped again and after it was down for a minute, my midwife said we were doing a c-section.  I was basically in a state of shock at that point but I was okay with it.

After having a couple of meltdowns the prior day because things weren't progressing as I was hoping, my doulas sat down with Matt and me and we talked about what I wanted, how things were going, my mental state, and we prayed together.  From there, things just started going wonderfully and I was able to really be at peace with my decisions.  I thought it was pretty crazy that even Pope Francis tweeted about peace as well.  I felt like God was speaking directly to me through this experience.

Because of the prayer, I was able to be at peace with things as they were happening and roll with the punches much better.  I also knew that with possible brain damage as a side effect of Lily's dipping heart rate, getting her out was the absolute most important thing in the world.  So I was wheeled to the OR.  The one thing that was terrifying for me was that Matt wasn't there.  The last thing I did was ask everyone in my vicinity that they tell him I love him since I wasn't able to and I was a little terrified.  Because I had labored totally naturally to that point, I had to go under general anesthesia.  I am told that Matt did a wonderful, wonderful job of making sure that our wishes were met and taking care of our sweet girl.

When I came to, I was asked if I knew where I was and I had no idea.  And then I saw Matt holding our baby and it all came back.  I was a little woozy, but he asked if I wanted to meet our baby.  I got to check her sex myself instead of being told, and Matt told me a little of what had happened.  He had held her skin-to-skin the entire time he'd had her per our wishes and had just done a brilliant job of making sure we got as much as we could out of the experience.  Our wonderful doulas were taking pictures and telling me how proud they were of me.

Even though it ended up exactly the opposite of everything I wanted, Lily still made it safely into the world and I had my totally natural birth until the c-section became a medical necessity.  So it wasn't all bad.  I'm definitely saddened that I was totally unconscious for her actual birth, but she has been so perfect.  Breastfeeding has been a breeze, which I was worried about with a c-section baby and the surgeon and my midwife both told me I am an excellent candidate for VBAC, so hopefully next time I'll have the birth I planned and prepared for.

Call me crazy, but I am so excited to do this all over again.