Feelings of "Off-Ness"

Since leaving the ER (go here to read that story) I have felt really "off".

The first 2 days being home, I tried breastfeeding with miserable results. Monday afternoon, I stopped breastfeeding and went to feeding Avonlea breast milk from the bottle, and my sanity returned.

But, I am still a little off.

I feel like my brain is gone. Even Nick has noticed it.  The hemoglobin levels being low contributes to a feeling of lethargy and loss of concentration.

I'm still bleeding a little more heavily than I was the week post-surgery.

I have also not wanted to eat anything. I put food in my mouth and it tastes like nothing.  It's doing wonders for getting my weight off, but nothing for my calorie intake for Avonlea.  In the hospital after surgery, I had no appetite problem--its only started since coming home.

I'm also getting fever and chills. Fever at around 101.7.  Usually when my breasts are really hard.  It hasn't been too much of a problem, only when I'm breastfeeding.  I was pumping every 2 hours during the day when Avonlea ate, and every 3 hours overnight when Avonlea ate. Overnight I would get crazy fever and chills, but during the day I was fine.

Well, I went to a lactation consultant today, after I have healed a bit, and am trying breastfeeding again. Problem is, we measured her after feeding, and she eats about 2 oz...and with bottle feeding, she was eating a solid 3 oz, and I am up to 5.5oz production every pump.

I'm going to pump overnight--easing back into breastfeeding--which should help, and I will pump for a shorter amount of time to try to cut my production back.

But should I be concerned about the other things?

Visitors

Sara (friend from Ohio) actually came up from San Diego on Thursday before she was admitted to the NICU. She started driving when she heard that I was having the baby, and showed up unexpectedly. It was amazing to have her there for the afternoon. She brought youth copies of "Anne of Green Gables" and "Anne of Avonlea" books for Avonlea's library! How adorable! She also brought Thursday's newspaper, and a few of the popular magazines to show what the headlines were. What a thoughtful gift!  My friend Stacey also came on Thursday, but we didn't get a picture...oh, well--we got one later.

Even though she was in the NICU, Avonlea had plenty of visitors--and because she was full-term, everyone was able to hold her!

Emilie and Patrick (Emilie and I worked at Old Navy together, now they go to our church):

Bonnie (Cedarville connection, and church friend--and they are in our community group, too!):

Miss Kerry (who brought YUMMY cupcakes, too!) (church friend--also ran the Tinkerbell Half with me):

Stacey and Rick (our friends from church who live right down the street from us--She's from Ohio, and they're expecting in August!):

Jessie (great friend from church):

Sergio and Palma (our community group hosts):

 (please to ignore how completely hopeless and drugged I look in this pic--that was engorged day.)

Our friends Link and Christy (from church) and their kids came, too, but alas, I didn't get a picture of them, either. Too much to think about, I guess!

i wish...

I wish my mom was here.

i wish i could tell her how hard this is.

i wish i could call her when i cry, which is often.

i wish i could tell her that there are moments where i love avonlea, and moments where i really dont like her.
there are even moments where i wish they would take her back.

i wish i could ask her about breastfeeding.

i wish i could tell her how much it hurts. how avonlea doesn't latch on right; how she flattens my nipples down like pancakes, and how i have sores and it feels like her tongue is an ice pick.

i wish she were here to tell me that giving avonlea a bottle today to supplement my nursing was ok (and not satan's suggestion) after she wouldn't stop crying after feeding for over an hour, and the thought of her latching on to me made me cry in fear.

i wish i could hear her tell me everything is okay.

i wish i could hear her making helpful suggestions out of love, and asking me just the right questions so i know what i really want.

i wish she could make me her beef tips and noodles with a side of mashed potatoes, and not serve them with judgement for my thighs.

i wish she were here to look at me even with the dark circles under my eyes, and a jiggly belly, and a 7-inch scar, and bruises everywhere, and tell me how beautiful i look anyways, holding her granddaughter.

i wish she could tell me about when i was a baby, and how horrible i made life for her, so that it would make me feel better when avonlea is screaming.

i wish she could read all the parenting books with me and laugh off all the ridiculous suggestions.

i wish she could hold avonlea and sing to her the way she did with me.

to these, and so many more, i miss you, momma.

Roadblock to Happiness #458

Telling an emotional, hormonal woman that she can take her baby home after a week in the hospital is one thing.

Telling an emotional, hormonal woman (who is fully dressed and ready to go) that she can't take her baby home yet because the woman needs to go to the ER to get checked out is enough for an emotional meltdown.

Guess which one happened to me?

Around 1:30pm, we were waiting for our discharge paperwork to come in to the NICU so we could take Avonlea home. I needed to go to the bathroom and talk to the lactation consultant upstairs, so I told the NICU nurse I would be right back.  When I went to the bathroom, I passed a huge blood clot--probably the size of a softball. I called my doctor, but their office was closed, so I decided to ask upstairs on the women's floor what I should do.

While I went upstairs, I noticed that I was bleeding a lot. I have been bleeding since my surgery--not so much of a surprise--but this was a significant amount more.

After I talked to the lactation consultant, I asked the nurse on duty what I should do. They weren't really sure, since I was no longer a patient. They graciously checked me out, though. Although they thought that maybe the clots were from my breast feeding, they thought that I should call my doctor. I did call again, only to learn that they are out of the office on Fridays. I called the doctor on call, and she said that if the bleeding continued for the next half hour, I should go to the ER.

I went back to the NICU and scrubbed in--and realized that I am allergic to the NICU soap. Every day my arms would burn a little bit, but this day they burned a lot, and they got really red and bumpy. I was hoping that this would be the last day for scrubbing in!

The nurse was concerned about me, since I was only supposed to go to the bathroom, and I ended up being gone for so long. When I told her about the bathroom, she got more concerned and flustered. Nick arrived shortly after, and we watched a mandatory CPR video while I filled him in on my bathroom drama.

We finished the video and packed everything up, and I was getting really emotional. I was getting asked over and over if I was okay, and I just wanted to get Avonlea and go. Finally, just before I was to sit down in the wheelchair and get Avonlea and go down to the car, Nick said he wanted me to go and check one more time.

Well, I had bled through the 2 pads I got from the nurses, and I was leaking onto my undies and pants.

Well, that was it. They wheeled me down to the ER instead, and they kept Avonlea in the NICU while we figured out what was going on.

I had blood drawn, urine sample taken, an ultrasound done (both internal and external), and another blood draw. Turns out, my hemoglobin levels were pretty low, so they gave me a shot to help slow down the bleeding, and monitored me for a couple of hours to see if my levels would go up.

They didn't go up at all, but they sent me home anyway. We kept reminding them that we had to go and get our daughter from the NICU, which I think helped influence their decision. They gave me a prescription for a medicine that would help my bleeding to stop....but after a drama session of Nick trying to find this obscure drug all over the Valley, it turns out I probably won't be taking it because it says that it can cause harm to a breastfeeding baby.

I am feeling better today. Low hemoglobin is a sign of anemia, so my neighbor gave me some iron supplements to take. It causes exhaustion and a loss of concentration, which hasn't been good for my emotional state today. But, we're getting through it all right.

Again, much acknowledgements to Nick for going above and beyond. He helped to soothe me as my emotions threatened to take over me in the ER. He went and got a breast pump for me from the NICU so that I could send milk up to Avonlea. He held my hand through the ultrasound when they mentioned that a possibility could be a D&C procedure. He fetched a breast pump (again) when we ended up being in the ER longer than we originally thought. He drove to 3 different pharmacies and called probably 8 more in search of my prescription--and bought me heavier pads in the process. What a man.

And at the end of the night, this emotional, exhausted, anemic momma got to take her baby home. Finally.

The Big Day

We get to bring Avonlea home today!!

Yay!!

And also, eek!!

I wrote celebratory texts to some friends last night, after we got the confirmation from the doctor that she would be going home, and I will admit--I had mixed emotions.

Please, don't think that I'm not 1000% happy about bringing Avonlea home. Not just because of this primal desire to have her next to me, but also for the practicality of it--we have made so many trips back and forth to the hospital, and I'm tired, and Nick is tired, and it's been really stressful to have Nick spending part of his day at work and I'm at the hospital and learning how to do things, and...whew. I'm ready for us all to be together, and to have the "first week" that we should've had last week.

But, there are also other emotions. The over-riding one is nervousness. I feel like I have had this easing into parenting. Because she was in the NICU, we didn't take her home for the first week. We didn't bump through those crazy hours right away.  I have felt like a part-time parent.  Today, we go from being part-time parents to being full-time parents. And there are so many unknowns.  Will I be able to provide enough milk for her? Will she continue to latch on and breastfeed without someone's help? Will she go through all of our diapers on the first day? How will she sleep at our house? Will it be too cold at night for her? Will it be too hot during the day? How will the dogs react? Will they try to pee on her (Nick says this is an irrational question)? What will our routine look like? Will Nick feel comfortable? Will I make him feel like less of a part of things because of my role as food-provider? Will I get enough sleep to be a loving, caring mother and not a raving lunatic who hates her daughter who won't let her sleep (biggest fear)?

There's just so many questions and unknowns that I go into today with a sort of tentative happiness. Honestly, I wish I had someone who would be able to be my own personal Google, and answer my questions and settle my fears when I have them--oh, wait. I DO. Maybe not the direct line to Google (that might be Nick's job), but I do have someone who can settle my fears. Thank God for prayer.

I have had many encouraging notes over the last week, from wonderful people who have been through this before and lived to tell about it. To those people, your texts and your messages have really buoyed me up, and I am so thankful. Now, I covet your prayers as we REALLY start this journey together as parents. We need His help to get through these next few weeks, months, years.  I want to be a good mother to Avonlea, and a good wife to Nick. I want to be a support and an encouragement and a helper and a provider.  I want Nick to be a good father and a supportive husband and a confident leader--and I want him to feel like I know he is those things, too.

Last night, Nick and I took our last non-parent trip to Target. We were buying things for Avonlea, but we were by ourselves. No kid. And we were joking and laughing together. I was teasing Nick about pushing the cart slow while he was texting, and he was playing on the escalator, trying to hold himself up on his hands the whole ride down. I was laughing and he was teasing me, and I thought, "I love this man. I can't wait for Avonlea to join in this family and make her own little part in it." What will she bring to our little home? What part will she take up? Will she be a joker and a teaser like her Daddy?  Will she be creative and athletic like mommy? Will she be a problem-solver? Will she be inquisitive? Will she be sensitive and caring?

I guess, starting today, we will find out.  Help us, Lord Jesus, to do Your Will as parents. We will lean on You for guidance and strength and compassion and ENERGY as we start this journey together.

Adventures In Breastfeeding

One of the most amazing things about the birthing process to me is breastfeeding.  This tiny human comes out of you, having spent the last 9 months eating through their stomach, and with a whack on their back, they suddenly are able to eat, breathe, and cry out of their mouths.  Really, the whole system just makes evolution seem more and more ridiculous.  But, anyways...

Though breastfeeding is miraculous, it is far from easy. For me, it was not natural, not instinctual, not easy. When they handed the baby to me a half-hour after the surgery, and told me to feed her, I was so lost as to what to do. If there was any part of the baby process I wasn't ready for, this was it. I hadn't read enough books (or, any books for that matter), and the whole thing seemed so....confusing. I had no idea if I was doing it right, and no idea if she was getting remotely what she needed to survive. I took comfort in the fact that babies don't need a ton of nutrition right after they are born--but was I going to be able to do anything to get her what she needed?

The first night, Nick went home, and Avonlea and I did our best. She would go where she was supposed to, and suck a couple of times in a row, and then be done. It seemed like a victory to me, but I wasn't really sure. Then, she slept like a rock for 6 hours--and subsequently, I did, too--right before we were admitted to the NICU.  I knew I was supposed to be feeding her every 2 hours, but no one came to wake me up, and Avonlea didn't wake me up crying, so I guess she wasn't hungry.

I might have been okay if Avonlea hadn't needed to go to the NICU. Maybe I would've figured out the latching thing (I mean, how do you know what it is, exactly--when you have no context for what it's like in the first place?). Maybe I would've had an amazing lactation consultation the day after her birth, and we would've sailed on with flying colors.

But, it wasn't meant to be that way. Avonlea had to go to the NICU, and I had to tell them exactly how much she was nursing, and for how long she was latched on. The NICU is nothing if not precise in their measurements (they even measure how much each diaper weighs!). I started guessing. "Umm...well, I felt tugging on the left side for a couple of minutes, but it wasn't repeatedly tugging, so I guess maybe 5 minutes on that side?"

This doesn't sit well with NICU nurses. They want to know how high you jumped, and what shoes you jumped with, and what you were wearing at the time, and if your hair was wet or not--oh, and did you poop beforehand, because that might've made a difference in your height?  When they asked me when the last time she ate was, and I had to tell them, "6 hours ago", they looked at me like I was the worst mom ever. Seriously, there were bugged eyes. One of the nurses said, "you should have woken her up to feed her--she's a newborn."  Add to the fact that I was already crying because they were taking my daughter away, and it wasn't a good admission process.

It wasn't but a few hours into the stay at the NICU that they had Avonlea on bottled formula. Inside, I am screaming against it--but what can I really do? She's on antibiotics, so she has to have nutrition going through her system to get the kidneys flowing. And I'm only producing colostrum at this point (I knew that much, at least), so she's not getting that nutrition from me at this point--and I don't even know if she's getting my colostrum in the first place, because I don't wake up often enough, and mostly because I don't know what latching on is.

It was another area where I felt like a failure. Not only did I not get to have the birth experience that I wanted, but now I wasn't going to have the feeding that I wanted. I didn't want her to have sugar water--she got a paci dipped in it right after she was born. I wanted to breastfeed exclusively--I had no idea what I was doing.  I didn't want her to have formula supplements--she was on it as soon as we got to the NICU.

A nurse came and dropped off a pump to me, and told me I needed to pump every couple of hours. I had no idea how long I was supposed to pump, and I wasn't getting anything during the pumping. Is that normal? Or, I would get one or two drops. The NICU nurses told me to bring down anything that I was able to get--did they really mean for me to take down two drops of colostrum?  The NICU nurses seemed to indicate that yes, I should--but then the nurses on my floor rolled their eyes at my pithy little 5 droplets, and told me that they couldn't do anything with it.  The first time I threw away my vial with more than 2 drops in it, I cried.

Over the course of Friday, between running down to the NICU any chance I got, and back up to my room to eat or sign papers or go to the bathroom or get examined, I pumped. I pumped for 15 minutes on the dot, maybe every 3 hours or so.  And slowly, I started to get some production. Not a lot--less than 5cc's each time, and more from one side than the other--but it was a start.  The nurse who told me to throw away my little bottles of colostrum now told me that she was wrong and that I should take down anything and they would make it work--so I started feeling more confident. Friday night, I commented to Nick that I felt like my milk might be coming in, because my breasts felt a lot heavier and fuller.  When I went to bed, I got a raging case of the chills, and then in the middle of the night I had the sweats.

Then, Saturday morning, I woke up and my breasts were as hard as rocks. Like, I thought my skin was going to tear apart. I knew, if I wasn't on my pain medicine, I would probably have woken up screaming in pain.  Yeah, you guessed it. I was completely engorged on both sides.  I called my nurse, who came in and checked me and confirmed that I was engorged. She got me an anti-inflammatory drug (but not a lactation consultant).  I went online and looked up engorgement treatment, and started doing 15 minutes of heat, then pump for 20 minutes (while Nick massaged me), then 15 minutes of ice. My time away from my daughter was getting longer and longer, and now I wasn't getting anything out of my breasts.

I was tired, I was frustrated, and I was wishing I had some clue as to what was going on.

After reading some more, I went to only a few minutes of heat, then pump with massage, then ice. And again, slowly I started to get some production, and some relief from the stretching and the painful knots and lumps.

As my milk production grew (about 10cc's a day), I got more and more happy that I was able to provide some better nutrition for my daughter. Downstairs, she was not doing well with the formula. Yeah, enough of it was staying down for her to be doing fine health-wise, but she was getting a reputation as the pukiest, poopiest kid on the block.  There were 2 nurses who literally had to change their scrubs from top to bottom because Avonlea puked so violently on them.

She was also POUNDING her food. She would drink an entire bottle of formula in 2 minutes.

I was so excited to take down this bottle one morning:

Only to watch in dismay as she ate it in 35 seconds.  It took me all night to get that, girl!

Finally, on Saturday, a lactation consultant came to my room. She asked me a bunch of questions and handed me a bunch of flyers. When I told her that I wanted someone to come to the NICU and help me with Avonlea hands-on, she made an appointment for me the next day.

On Sunday afternoon, I finally had my first lactation appointment.  And it was hellish.  I stayed pretty cool the whole time--more than I can say for the lactation nurse--she was frustrated!  See, since Avonlea had gone so many days on the bottle, she was used to eating the easy way. Also, in the NICU, they feed "ad lib". So, basically whenever she started crying, they would feed her--so by Sunday, whenever she didn't get fed, she screamed bloody murder.  I mean, outrageous, purple-in-the-face ridiculous screaming.  Surprisingly, the screaming doesn't really bother me--but it did bother the NICU nurses. I learned this on one of the first days down there trying to breastfeed her. She started to cry, and 3 different nurses came to check on me to see what was wrong. (I felt really pressured to get the feeding thing right from them, and so when it wasn't going well, I felt really pressured to give in to the formula thing quickly--mommy guilt at its finest.)

We ended up feeding her the bottle, but the lactation nurse said we would try again. She had a couple of things she wanted to do.

Well, when we finally got together on Tuesday, it worked, and I finally learned what REAL latching on feels like! We used a breast shield to help us, and I think it really helped Avonlea to get hooked on right. I was excited and happy, and Avonlea actually ate from me for 15 minutes on both sides! Victory! She was only doing 5 or 6 sucks at a time, and she would stop every 5 minutes or so to fuss, but she was doing it!  Tuesday was the first day that she had enough milk (from a bottle) from me to last all day--and she didn't vomit at all the whole day.

I had a lingering doubt, though. Nick tried to help me put the nipple shield on the other side, and it was really hard to do. And I was thinking, "what am I going to do when the nurse isn't here? I'm not going to be able to put this thing on by myself."

In fact, today when I went in, I didn't think I would be breastfeeding, because I couldn't do it by myself.

And that's when God sent Vicki.  I have had a different nurse every day with Avonlea--but today's nurse also spent 27 years with her own lactation consultation business. She graciously stepped in to help me. A no-nonsense Hispanic lady, she quickly took charge and told me exactly what we were going to do. She told me to put the nipple shield away. She helped me to hold her the right way, to calm her before feeding, to talk quietly to her, to lead her nose-first to the breast. All things that the other consultant had told me, but this time it really clicked. I was doing it on my own--and Avonlea took to it like a charm. It took maybe 5 minutes of re-working my hold, and guiding my nipple to her correctly, but she totally got it.  She latched on to me sans nipple shield, and ate for 20 minutes without stopping. She went up to 10-20 sucks in a row, and not once did she let go of me.

Vicki actually suggested only feeding Avonlea on one side for a while, that way she can get used to the hold, get used to opening her mouth wide, and get used to working a little harder for the food. Vicki explained what I needed to be doing while pumping in a language I could understand, using her hands to demonstrate what she meant. She didn't come in and take over what I was doing, but she guided me to the right technique. She was a fabulous teacher.

When Nick came to pick me up, I wasn't ready--I wanted to stay and feed her again! This time, Vicki didn't help me at all. In fact, I didn't even know she was watching--until I had gotten Avonlea latched on, and I heard her praise me from the side of Avonlea's bed, telling me I had gotten an A+.

Tonight, when Nick and I went back for our evening with Avonlea, I couldn't wait to show him what I had learned. And Avonlea stepped up like a champ. She ate for 25 minutes on one side, and then used the bottle for the rest (which we'll do until I feel like I can take her to my other side). I was so proud to see her little Momma's Milk Mustache:

Breastfeeding has been a struggle, but I am loving where I am at now. I know that there will be hard times ahead still--but now I know that I can do it by myself, without any tricks or special tools. Just her and me, the way it's supposed to be.

(I left out a few details of this story, I am sure, but I am tired and I need to go and pump.)

The NICU Life in Pictures (and a few words)

Head down.

Scrub in.

Find baby.

Name check.

Say hi.

Nail check.

IV move.

Stare at Daddy.

Celebrate milk.

Celebrate more milk!

Swing time.

Bath time.

Snuggle Daddy.

Big burps.

Sniff head.

Stare at Mommy.

Porthole view.

Post-sleep looks.

Diaper time.

Get mad.

Feeding time.

Snuggle butt.

Food coma.

Talk to Mommy.

Size compare.

Say goodnight.