Labor and Delivery “Again” - Family Life/Relationships

"Mother's don't have the luxury of falling apart in front of their children, even when they are afraid, and more specifically even with their children are adults."

Yup that's right, I was blessed with a new healthy and whole baby girl, delivered by the same doctors that took care of me with my first daughter. Except this time around definitely different-in a good way. I wasn't allowed to deliver the baby vaginally as I had intended and wanted to, for health risks regarding a "uterine rupture". Yes it is a thing. Apparently it's a pretty serious thing and I was prepped for a C-section (again)-you know the funny thing is, to this day I have yet to look up what that means and the risks of it. I'll have to do that later after I finish this post...anyway, moving on!

Finally after the whole ordeal of dealing with a doctor I quite frankly didn't trust and didn't want even within one feet of me, let alone in the same room as me, I had my actual doctor back with me. She saw my during her rounds as she was back on shift and informed me I was ready to have the baby. The baby looked great and ready, where I also too was ready (aside from the blood pressure). If only everyone would understand that if I wasn't in the current stressed predicament of finances along with dealing with the unimaginable situations of my husband (now ex-husband), then my blood pressure would've been fine that day. No joke, in his absence I had better levels...but not getting into that.

So I was able to prepare a lot better for this C-section that was to take place, both physically and mentally. I have to admit though that for whatever reason, I was actually freaking out more! But at least I was a lot more prepared for what was to come and what was in store for me before, during, and post delivery. As well as could be prepared anyway. My husband was helping to gather things in place and we were taken to the room where I would officially prep for the O-R (operation room) and be in after the O-R for recovery, before being transferred to our official room before discharge. The nurse helped us loading everything onto a cart for a smoother transition, but my husbands mood hadn't improved, especially not from the day prior...we're set up in the O-R and my official nurse for only the pre and post delivery is taking care of me, I'm being explained what's going to physically happen to me and what I'm going to be going through, along with what the doctors are going to be doing. My blood pressure at this point was again spiking some, even with my most recent and last dosage of the blood pressure medication (orally taken). I was starting to feel cold of fright and nerves, I knew this was something that was done daily and to so many woman but still, what if God (or "luck" for the non believers) thought to turn the tables and make me or worse my daughter one of the few that didn't have everything alright after this...I knew then that I shouldn't even have had those thoughts but they were rearing their ugly head. Oddest of thoughts like "what if I die, who will really take care of my girls...will my husband even allow my mother to follow my living will wishes with the girls...etc." I kept looking at my husband who was almost 24-7 always on his phone anytime a nurse, doctor, or hospital staff was in the room and I began to cry. He offered no words of comfort or ease, he probably thought (especially after all of the words we exchanged) that I was strong and didn't need him or need comfort of anykind...I wasn't upset at that moment with him or at the situations in general, I just wanted some loving ease; instead I was getting ease from my family (mother, father, sister, and my two uncles specifically) and his grandparents locally in the metroplex as well as his biological dads mother. Don't even get me started about his mom...

I was nervous for the operation in general because even with the drugs with my first daughter - I could still feel what was happening and it was oddly terrifying, even in my calm semi coherent state. The time was fast approaching and now my phone had to be taken away...words of comfort and ease were nowhere to be found and too late to have. I felt myself getting colder, my hands began to shake, my throat was beyond dry, and I knew so much was out of my hands now. My nurse informed us we were being delayed because there was an emergency O-R surgery that needed to take place prior to mine so I would be wheeled out a little later than anticipated. It was the last time I knew for a little bit that my husband and I would be alone...I remember asking him if he was ready for this-he arrogantly but happily replied "I've been ready for her to come out for a while now." Unfortunately, I couldn't feel or believe in his response and I guess it must have showed on my face, because he asked me what was wrong. So I vocalized my fears and he FINALLY calmed me down and decided to converse with me. He was trying to make me laugh with taking a goofy photo of himself in the scrubs! I was excited and so anxious to see my new baby girl...so many things went through my mind as the nurse finally wheeled me out to the room used as a transitional room that led to the actual O-R. It was all a bunch of nurses or assisting nurses and one doctor, who was the anesthesiologist about to start the epidural. This would be the only time my husband wasn't allowed with me and that they would be calling him back in a few, once I was situated.

I began to go numb (where I'm supposed to) and my nurse helped me to the surgery table, well more like literal bed this time around. Through the reflection of the steel and mirrors I saw that they were prepping all of the surgical tools while I was being placed into an almost crucifixion like position, where my arms are both stretched out in the opposite directions and my body all laid down horizontally with my legs closed together and very directly facing in the opposite direction of the room. Time seemed to be going by very slowly and what seemed like hours was only in reality minutes...I heard one doctor enter the room who was the surgeons and felt more relieved at the whole scenario. I then heard my husband's voice as he entered the room with his scrubs and face mask on. My arms were tingling and my legs had the oddest feeling of feeling so heavy but yet not there-I guess the medicine was doing it's job. I was a little sketchy about the numbing and tingly sensation in my arms so after I kept pressing concerns my husband inquired on my behalf; after the doctor responded then my OBGYN entered the room and the "show" was about to begin-the curtain was already up separating the view of the surgical area and myself. My husband seemed to get over his squeamish nature of the blood and surgery altogether because I was happy to find later he not only took photos (like I had asked) but also I was surprised to find that he took a really good video of the birth of our second daughter...I knew the moment she was outside of my body before I heard her little cry, because I felt a sudden emptying of body, an emptying from the "fullness" in my midsection, then immediately afterwards I heard her adorable little cry. Little it might have been but weak my new baby girl was most certainly NOT. My husband left my side to go see our daughter as she was being wrapped up real quick after being weighed and quickly looked over. Then I finally got to see and feel my new baby girl against me. While the doctors were closing me up my husband was holding our new baby girl close to me-the moment they brought our daughter to me she stopped her whaling and was soothed. I remember, looking at her little face and just like with my first daughter they snuggled into my neck area and their crying halted. It's truly one of the most bittersweet of moments that I don't think anyone except a woman who appreciates the gift she's given (that of motherhood) can fully comprehend...and now I was able to feel it twice.

Once I was sown up I had to be transferred over to my hospital bed and then rolled back to the post op room we were in prior to surgery. Baby girl was in tow behind me along with my husband, so I was calmly relieved that this whole delivery was 100% better than my first one and that my baby girl was going to be able to stay with me until we left home...I was surprised to see some new things inside the room. Apparently one of my uncles had gotten a few little gifts for us-us meaning for the newborn and for my oldest daughters-in honor of having a new baby sister. Although he wasn't able to give the gifts in person since he had to go back to work. My sister brought a beautifully handmade door reef for labeling the room for our daughter and she had made sure to take a half day of work the moment she knew I was going to have the baby. So once the baby and I were settled in the post op room waiting for our official room, I was given new baby girl to have some skin on skin time and see if she would start to attach to the breast...this was also the time where I was able to really see my eldest daughters reaction to her having a baby sister as she herself was still technically a baby.

I was so relieved-I saw so many emotions cross her face but in her eyes I saw joy, acceptance, curiosity, happiness, but above all love at this something new she didn't quite understand or know yet...

Sincerely,

A Distinct Woman

Breastfeeding Your Baby (it’s not easy) - Family Life

I had originally written this post a few years back when I had just had my second daughter, so I had to do some revisions as well as adding more to the original post. This post started about three weeks after having my second daughter. The original post will be centered where the additional information will be shown as left aligned. I hope you like this one because it was written with the emotions I had then (in that moment) with a little more emotions now in reminiscing…

The nights seem to be shorter than ever; I wouldn't say its necessarily because its more tiring but it really oddly does feel like the days have seemed to be dragging out a lot now. I guess I shouldn’t complain though since it gives me so much daylight with both my girls. The youngest is growing expeditiously, it seems almost impossible to tell that she's still a newborn baby meanwhile my oldest daughter is trying to cope with the new changes going on in her life. Specifically being that Mommy is resting a lot and not doing as many things with her throughout the day as before; I've forced myself to be moving around probably more than I should because I know my oldest needs me. Breast feeding has been going well and the little one’s appetite continues to grow every day. She’s really been working herself a little more here and there to her feeding needing to transition into milk that’s more substantial. It's amazing to notice all of the changes in my girls and within myself, but more importantly the changes from being a mom the first get go to being a mom the second time around. What do I mean? 

So the nights during my first daughter’s new life was a lot more exhausting, for lack of a better way to explain it. I'm going to deduce that the reason for that during my first daughter’s feeding was more because of the stress I was under and also the overall recovery from the surgery itself. Therefore nightly feedings then were more groggy and tended to entail more sleep throughout the night. I vividly remember always needing help; whether it was my mother getting the milk ready or doing the feeding herself while I was the one doing the milk prepping. Other nights I couldn't do either because I might've pushed myself harder through the day and I was just too exhausted at night; that's when my mom would do everything for the feeding time herself. See it was a little bit after arriving home from the hospital that I got to really begin breast feeding my oldest; sadly though because of the delivery I didn’t have the most memorable of feedings since it involved a rented out breast pump and I was nowhere near to producing the breast milk my baby needed. Formula was going to have to be used early on for her…

You see, the day I was to be discharged from the hospital they told me, that because of the magnesium that was used during my emergency c-section, the milk production wasn’t going to be the same or as usual for me and my daughter-but for me to not worry that babies thrive without concern even if little to no breastmilk is provided to them. That every drop I would give my daughter was necessary and vital for her growth, immunity, and for my continual milk production. For my health and well being I needed to get all the milk I would produce out as well, otherwise I could risk some health concerns in my breasts if I didn't. I don’t know how many reading are moms who have had a similar occurrence or have been told worse; perhaps know someone who’s gone through that but even after all the emotional roll-a-coaster I had nothing could keep my heart from dropping all over again. I felt a little bit like a zombie as everything was being explained to me. I mean what else could I do right?…I remember the moment the lactation nurse left, my tears I held in check finally fell down my cheeks. I had already gone through so much emotionally with the birth and the both of our physical healing post-partum, why couldn't it get a little easier now that the worst was over for both of us...I went into the bathroom in the hospital recovery room to gather myself because I know that my little one would be arriving and my family would be soon in my room too. To ensure that I would do as instructed I ended up renting a breast pump machine to take home. No matter the stories of all the women before you (of for those of you who bothered reading any of those maternity books because I definitely didn't), nothing and no one prepares you for the heart wrenching feeling you have as a new mom who can't feed her baby...I used to have countless feeding times or the times on the breast pump where I would cry in silence because I felt like I was only providing, not even half, of what my baby really needed from me. My oldest, to young and too soon got accustomed to baby formula. It wasn't until her three month check up that the pediatrician really explained to me how vital a mother's breast milk was to the newborn regardless of it's quantity, as long as it was directly coming from me. 

This time around I guess you could say that I'm actually enjoying the afterglow of pregnancy and post delivery. Yes I'm exhausted but I'm also euphoric because this time around I'm partaking in more things that unfortunately I wasn't able to fully enjoy or appreciate until it was already too late with my oldest, post delivery. Night feedings with my oldest didn't last long because she would be more full due to the formula milk so that in turn put her into a steady schedule for sleeping through the night from a month on. Granted this time around I don't get to sleep as much during the night because my youngest is always hungry and my milk production continues for her. But whether my youngest or oldest, I have to say there is something truly enchanting when you see this new baby's eyes looking up at you around 2am in the morning...Her trusting eyes look at me knowing that there's some kind of time difference for her compared to the day, but there's so much unknown trust and love for you as she's looking at you. No one can can begin to fathom unless or until they have their child in their arms. There were minimal or more like close to no "hard nights" as many other women say or tell. I was blessed with the wisdom my mother and grandmother gave me, so both my daughters have been sleeping beautifully through the night. Although, I can probably count on one hand the difficult nights that I had with both of them. That's when it hit me, to write about one of the few occurrences where it was both hard and emotional for me...

One night (about a month and a half after my youngest's birth) it was the feeding time for my youngest. My mother had already helped so much and I frankly didn't feel like waking up ex husband (now anyway because we were married at that time) because I didn't feel like dealing with his half efforts. If you're thinking or asking, yes he was helpful to a very small extent; he would do something than either go back to sleep or he would be half asleep doing something that I needed done five minutes ago (men when they try, they just need to frankly try harder-no offense guys). My newest little one was wailing her head off she was  so hungry, so I tried to make sure that she wasn't waking anyone up...My little one apparently woke up with a tummy who was starving! So I wasn't able to pump the milk in advance as I was usually doing, so out came out the breast and I began to breast fed her straight. I automatically knew in that moment that it wasn't going to be an easy feeding time for her and that I would have to war up a formula milk to "top her off". However, that didn't help in my already over stressed like feeling from earlier that week. I was so stressed that week so my milk production wasn't that high as normal. The moment I was adjusting myself in the sitting position, her little mouth on my breast was dislodged from it's location; so the moment I took baby girl away from my breast she started to cry. I quickly made sure that all doors were closed and that the people I didn't want to wake up wouldn't be awoken by her cry's. I started to warm up the milk and my baby kept wailing out loud, everything that would help her for a bit didn't help. 

She was inconsolable even the moment that the milk bottle was ready. I had to try to calm her before even giving her the bottle so that she would take it. I remember that I started to tear up, that I felt the tears rolling down my cheeks as I watched her finally suckling on the bottle nipple. I began to cry harder as I caressed the right side of her face while she ate. I started imagining the moms with no help or assistance from anyone/family...I started thinking about the women who were as surprised as I was when I was first pregnant - you don't really know what to do...How they must feel in their desperation to console and provide for the baby but feel has if they have nothing to offer due to the circumstances. 

I hope that someone gives them the support they need. That someone can give them hope. That someone can tell them, it's ok. It's hard but it's ok. You're doing the best that you could be doing and don't think that it isn't enough! I couldn't help but cry more on thinking how difficult it could or must feel for a mom who can't produce breast milk and instead spends so much money on formula. I hope and pray for the women, who doesn't get to feel the most intimate of moments with your baby as you breast feed them-it's ok if you didn't or don't-it doesn't make you less of a mom and your baby knows you love them. I pray for the moms who do it alone-that they can find hope and know their rainbows will come and the hard days will walk hand in hand with the good. I hope that the moms who've loved and lost their little ones-without experiencing the full extents of motherhood-know that you're baby is in a beautiful place and there's nothing wrong with still remembering them, it wasn't anything that you did wrong...for the moms who see no hope in conception, there's always adoption-so many children who have always wished for the warm embrace of a loving parent, they may be the perfect fit for you. In general, moms need hope, love, support, and a caring touch too...

Sincerely,

A Distinct Woman