The PP Diaries: 6 Weeks

Dear Diary,

As of this week, I am officially out of my 6 week babymoon. Wow, how the time flies! I'm starting to get into the swing of things. However, I'm still using the PP excuse for -everything-. ("Oh, it's raining out today? It's because I just had a baby.")

Fortunately, my lochia has completely ended...in spite of me overdoing things one million times within these past six weeks. (Hike at the Nature Center, going to the zoo, cleaning the bathroom, getting mastitis, cleaning the church, going grocery shopping again and again, dishes, laundry, taking care of Bug, doing Pilates, etc, etc.)

Unfortunately, I'm still wearing maternity clothes, because nothing else fits.

Love, Mally

PS- Did I remember to brush my teeth today?

Mastitis on a Holiday Weekend

Friday evening, I was at my parents' house. Around 8-9pm, I started getting the chills. My left breast was feeling engorged and tender. I told my mom, "I think I'm coming down with mastitis."

Friday night, I was feverish.

Saturday, the fever kept getting worse. I was hot/cold/hot/cold. Achy. Sore. Headache. Tired. Feverish. Miserable. The soles of my feet hurt! My left breast had a red spot over the most tender part. I got a blessing from the hubs and my dad. At 4pm, my fever was over 102 degrees F. (That's pretty high for me, considering my normal body temperature is normally much lower than average...usually around 96-97.) I took some ibuprofen, which was the only medication in our whole apartment that would do a single thing for me. A couple hours later, my fever broke in a massive, bed-drenching sweat. I felt better...a little.

Saturday night, the fever came and went.

Sunday morning, I still had a little fever. I took more ibuprofen. The red spot on my left breast had spread to cover almost half of the breast. I had a feeling I needed to see a doctor to get antibiotics. But, I don't have a regular doctor. And it was a Sunday. And the next day was Labor Day.

Sunday late morning, the hubs and I dropped Bug off at my parents' house, went to the local Urgent Care. The doc took note of my situation, and gave me a prescription for antibiotics. We then went and got the script filled at the Kroger pharmacy.

I am feeling -much- better, physically and mentally, about the mastitis. I think it was caused by the cracked nipples I had during Gizmo's first week. He had a rough time figuring out how to latch on properly. He's getting better at it now. It has been such a long time since I've needed to go to a doctor for an illness! And it's been a really, really long time since I've needed medication!

Oh, I can't believe I'm on antibiotics! All I can think about is that I'm going to get thrush next. I've cut out sugar...as much as possible (which is a HUGE thing for me)...and I'm planning on going to get some probiotics (the ones I -had- in my fridge are expired, so I don't trust them to keep the yeasties at bay) today. That is, if my stinkin' toddler will take a nap. I refuse to go out of the house with him being cranky. Especially since it will be my first solo outing with two kids!

This mom-of-two thing is hard.

Poor, poor placenta

Placentas are really amazing things. They nourish a baby for nearly nine months in the womb. They are full of nutrients and hormones. They are the only source of meat that comes from creating life, rather than killing.

I really, really wanted to save, and consume in some way (whether dehydrated pills or frozen pills or smoothie style), my placenta. Consuming the placenta will stop a postpartum hemorrhage almost immediately, helps the uterus return to its pre-pregnancy size more quickly, helps regulate and bring in a full milk supply, and nearly eliminates postpartum depression. There is probably more that the placenta can do, because its just so amazing!

Sadly, it didn't happen. I shouldn't have assumed that the hubs would have prepared it for me...especially since he had told me he didn't want to [do it himself]. But, I thought he would if I asked him nicely enough. Guess not.

Instead, it got bagged and thrown away. Just so you know, do NOT ask a woman who gave birth within the last three hours what to do with the placenta, if she had already stated what she wanted done with it pre-birth. She will likely be so engrossed with her newborn that she will say, "I don't care!"

She does care. And a couple days after the birth, she might cry over the loss.

The PP Diaries: But wait, there's more!

Dear PP Diary,

I neglected to mention a couple of things in my last entry. Like, waking up every night drenched in sweat. Crying about every little thing. (Oh, I did kind of mention that...Yeah, I'm gonna add it again. 'Cause I'm probably crying about something else this time!) Dying to get out of the house, but knowing it's not a good idea quite yet.

And that SPD does -not- go away right after the birth. Rolling over in bed is still horrible. My hips still feel like they are splitting in two. All my joints are apparently still blissed out in relaxin....which apparently has a half life of one million years....or something like that.

The swelling doesn't go away immediately either. Uhm...I would like to wear my wedding ring again someday. Today, preferably.

Is there anything else I should mention? (So I can try to keep all the depressing stuff somewhat together?)

Love, Mallory

The Postpartum Diaries

Dear PP Diary,

I forgot how confused your organs get after delivering a baby. For the first couple of days, mine were asking, "Now....where the heck do we belong???" It felt weird to stand up straight, because my abdominal muscles were (are) so shot. I can feel about two finger widths of separation between the muscles. Too bad I'm such a lazy bum that I probably won't ever do anything to correct that!

I also forgot that around 3 days after the baby is born, your breasts turn into huge, hard lumps of heat and milk. I feel so bad for Gizmo. How on earth do you latch on to a rock? Of course, I should be feeling more sorry for myself...because a bad latch hurts!

Hemorrhoids suck even worse after the delivery. Even worse than peeing on that little skid mark tear. And worse than having a crotch that smells like days old birth, no matter how many times you wash, thanks to the continual flow of lochia.

A couple days after the baby comes, the ecstasy of the birth starts to fade. And the tears threaten to fall. And suddenly everything you husband does (and doesn't do) is annoying.

Meconium diapers are horrible, even without it sticking to the baby's butt. Babies hate diaper changes. Waiting for that umbilical cord stump to fall off is agonizing! Diapering a baby with an umbilical cord stump is pretty close to torture...for both babe and mom.

Love, Mallory

Birth Story: Gizmo

Tuesday, August 24^th, 2010. Around 5:30am: I woke up with a full bladder. But getting out of bed when you are hugely pregnant is hard…so I laid there for a few minutes, debating how full my bladder –really- was, and whether or not I could just try to sleep until there was actually daylight outside. Then, I had a contraction. 5:37am. It didn’t feel any different than the contractions that I had been having for a couple weeks already. In fact, I had even had worse contractions just a few nights before! But, there was something –spiritually- different. There was a little, hinted whisper that this was “it”. Although, I was very, very hesitant to declare that.

I did get up to relieve myself, and have another contraction on the toilet. Then I tried to go back to sleep. The contractions kept coming, 5-8 minutes apart. Pretty easy to handle. At 6:20am, Scotty’s [aka "hubby"] alarm went off, and he crawled out of bed to get ready for work. I told him that I was having contractions, and that I thought maybe this was for real, but I wasn’t sure. I told him to go ahead and get ready for work. While he was in the shower, I prayed to my Heavenly Father, asking Him to give me a confirmation of whether or not to send Scotty to work before it was actually time to send him out the door!

Once Scotty was dressed and ready, I got out of bed and we ate breakfast together. The contractions were much more comfortable to take when I was standing up and leaning on something. I had to stop and stand three times while trying to eat my cereal. Scotty kept looking at me like, “you are totally in labor”. All I could do was giggle at him between contractions and tell him to stop looking at me like that! It was between 7 and 7:30am that Scotty decided to stay home. I think –he- was the one who received the confirmation to stay, more than I did!

After breakfast, I brushed my teeth and got in the shower. I thought I was just taking a normal shower (stopping every now and then to lean my head against the cool tile and sway through a contraction)…but apparently it was a lot longer than I usually take. Scotty came in to check on me, and asked how many contractions I had been having. Enough. They did seem to be coming closer together, as well. I immediately decided that I wanted my mom to come and braid my hair. And then I had another contraction that made me want to vocalize a little. I told Scotty to call my mom and tell her to come. I got out of the shower at about 8:30am. Scotty also called his mother, who was invited to be there. I remember Scotty saying, while on the phone with her, “You should probably come now. [pause]. Yes, I’m serious.”

When I got out of the shower, I decided that I didn’t really want to get dressed, but I didn’t want my mom to show up to find me in all my naked glory! So, I put my robe on. I put my towel on the floor right next to the bed, and knelt on top of it. I leaned onto the bed while kneeling or standing and rocking while I had contractions. Every now and then, I would get up and walk around the room, but I kept going back to leaning forward. The contractions were getting to the point where I really wanted to vocalize through them. I was also starting to move into Laborland, although I stayed fairly well aware of my surroundings pretty much the whole time.

Scotty was starting to run around the house, getting things cleaned up and ready. I kept worrying about where my comb was between contractions (I could have sworn it was behind the couch), because I still wanted my mom to braid my hair when she arrived. And I was beginning to wonder what was taking her so long! (She apparently thought she had plenty of time!) Soon, I decided that I wanted a snack. Scotty got me some grapes to eat, and I had a cup of water that always seemed to be out of reach. And I was feeling hot…so I needed that water! When I was down on the floor, my cup was on the headboard. When I was up leaning on the bed, my cup was on the floor. It was around this time that I took my robe off…even though nobody had shown up yet, so it was pointless for me to have put it on in the first place. And I wanted a cool washcloth for my face and neck.

I started to moan through my contractions, and I would mentally tell myself to keep it low and loose. Near the end of the contraction, I would blow my lips like a horse, as a final relaxation technique, so I could rest more easily between the contractions. And I decided that I really did need to rest between contractions. I had been staying down, leaning on my arms, and I was beginning to feel tired. The pinky finger on my right hand was going numb…and it stayed numb for a couple hours after the birth, even! I tried to lie on the bed, but every time I had a contraction, I had to hop onto the floor and lean on the bed. Finally, just a little before 10am, my mom arrived. But it was too late for her to braid my hair. And my mother-in-law arrived just shortly after.

I had a prenatal scheduled with my midwife and her assistant for that day at 10am. My midwife scheduled it for that day, the day –she- predicted the baby would be born, due to the full moon. It made things convenient for them, for me to be in labor then! The assistant, Deann, arrived just shortly after 10am. When she came in, I’m pretty sure the first words she said to me were, “You look beautiful!” It was so sweet to hear, and when I think of those words now, I think about my divine nature. God gave me this beautiful body and the ability to birth babies! Deann started quietly pulling things out of our “birth basket” (all the supplies needed had been gathered together in a laundry basket).

Scotty kept running around to take care of things, and I had to keep calling him to me, to be my support. I would have him rub my back. But if he did it even slightly wrong, I would say “no!” and have him try something different. My midwife, Marlene, showed up around 10:30am. Marlene lives two hours away, so Scotty had called her around 8:30am (when she should have been on her way anyway) to let her know that she would be staying a little longer than for just a prenatal, and she still hadn’t left yet. Apparently, she left pretty quickly after that! I was only slightly aware of her arrival. I remember hearing her talking in the other room, and being introduced to my mom and mother-in-law. (Honestly, I don’t remember actually seeing her until right before the baby was born!)

Soon, the contractions were getting pretty hard to handle. I kept analyzing myself throughout the whole labor, wondering what stage I was in, whether it was taking the appropriate amount of time, yadda yadda; consequences of being a birth geek, I guess. I remember at this point beginning to feel like I might not be able to handle things. I thought to myself, this better be transition…or else I don’t think I can do this! (Classic “transition”!)  

I really had to pee, and an empty bladder is better for birthing. But, from my experiences earlier in labor, I knew that the toilet brought on much stronger contractions. I really wasn’t interested in –that- happening at that point. I decided that I was ok with getting in the shower, just to pee. I had Scotty keep the water on my lower back. Then, I had a contraction that had me on my hands and knees. And I started feeling pushy. I told Scotty that I was feeling pushy, and I wanted to get out.  

Right after I got out of the shower, I tried to lie down on the bed. I was able to handle two contractions lying down; then I just –HAD- to get up on my hands and knees. We piled a ton of pillows up for me to lean on, while kneeling on the bed. I kept announcing that I was feeling pushy. (Of course, from my sounds and actions, everyone else already knew that!) Marlene then told me she wanted to check the baby’s heartbeat in between contractions. I knew I was right in between one, so I quickly leaned back so she could get to my belly. She used a Doppler, and it was the first time we had used one (we normally used a fetascope), so that was the first time I heard my baby’s heartbeat….and I was so far into labor that it didn’t even register! 

I was pushing, involuntarily, with every contraction now. It was such a strong and uncontrollable urge. My vocalizations were turning more grunty and animalistic, with a touch of “loss of control”. Deann kept gently reminding me to keep it low and relax. I had another contraction that came with a flow of what I thought was urine. I announced, “I think I peed!” To which everyone chuckled and Marlene responded, “Or your water broke.”  

With every urge to push, I told everyone I was “pushy! pushy!” And soon, I was feeling a lot of pressure in my crotch, which led me to tell everyone it felt “burn-y! burn-y!” I knew labor felt a lot like a huge bowel movement, and I know women often think they have to poop, when it is really just the baby coming down. Still, I had to ask, “Am I pooping? Or is that the baby?” It was a little of both. Marlene had baby wipes for my butt, and a nice, warm, ginger and almond oil compress for my perineum. I remembered my labor with Bug, and now nice pushing was. It hurt more this time (probably because my hemorrhoids), but it was still so nice knowing that I was being so productive!  

Then, I –knew- my water had really broken. I felt it gushing with my pushes, and I felt the baby moving down more quickly. I wanted to ask what kind of progress I was making. It was burning so badly, but I wasn’t even sure if the baby was visible yet! But, then I was told that I could touch the baby’s head. I reached down to feel the squishy, wrinkled mound of head coming. It felt so good to have my hand down there. I wanted to keep my hand down to apply counter pressure to my labia, but I couldn’t support both my crotch and my body at the same time.  

Around this time, truly just minutes before the birth, my mother-in-law, my mother, and Bug were all in to watch the baby be born. I pushed with more vigor when I knew the baby’s head was so nearly out. Then, the head was out, followed quickly by the body. I love that wonderful feeling of release when the baby comes out! Scotty caught the baby, and announced, “It’s a boy!” I thought, for just a split second, that he had to be joking. I honestly thought I was having a girl! Bug was fascinated while watching the birth. And when the baby was born, he announced to the room, “Bobby!” Which is Bug-speak for “baby”. [We have chosen a nickname for the blog, thanks to my little sister. Boy number two will be known as “Gizmo”.] 

I was still on my hands and knees, and I hadn’t seen the baby yet. I was so overwhelmed with those wonderful birthing hormones, that I was a little bit confused about how to go about turning around to hold my baby! I eventually got it (while trying not to kick anyone in the head) and Scotty placed our little boy in my arms. I was overjoyed! I had given birth! At home! In such a short amount of time! It all felt so surreal. 

I eventually mustered up enough energy and interest in pushing out the placenta. We waited about an hour before cutting the cord and taking stats. I tried to get Gizmo to nurse. He wasn’t all that interested, he just licked and nuzzled. I was checked over, in the meantime, and found I just had one small skidmark (I found later that I had another itty bitty one, higher up) but no major tears. 

The boy names that we had picked out during the pregnancy didn’t seem right to us. It took nearly an hour, but eventually we did give our little boy a name. Soon, we started passing Gizmo around to everyone who was there (and everyone who was showing up), while I went to take a soak in a nice, herbal postpartum bath. It was very nice to relax. I felt wonderful! 

We are so pleased to announce our second son, Gizmo. Born at 11:26am. 8lbs 2oz, 19 ¾” long.  

Born at home. Born in peace. Born in love.

While you're waiting....

I know everyone is anxious to read the birth story, but I haven't gotten around to it quite yet! In the meantime, here are some pictures for your viewing pleasure.

Welcome Baby!

Our baby was born this morning! It's a boy! I haven't decided what his nickname for the blog is going to be, yet. So, that will probably be given when I write out the birth story. He was born at home, after 6 hours of labor, at 11:26am. He was 8lbs 2oz, 19 3/4" long.

Bug was able to see the birth (from crowning to birth). He was very interested, and once the baby was out all the way, he excitedly said, "Bobby!" (Which is his way of saying "Baby!")

We are all so thrilled and in love!

Bad Mom Award

As I casually mentioned before, here is the story of my first Bad Mom Award...yeah, the one where I got Children's Protective Services (CPS) called on me during my son's first couple weeks of life.

I am not much of a believer in "well baby" doctor visits. I think it is just a ploy for the doctors to get more money. Nonetheless, I did take my little guy into the the doctor when he was about a week old. (Actually, he was 6 days old when I took him into the office.) I hadn't picked out a pediatrician yet, and I thought it would be better to just pick a family doctor, so the whole family could go to the same doc, if we needed it. So, I just picked a family practice that was relatively close.

I sat in the office and nursed Bug while I was waiting for the doctor to come. She finally arrived, and started checking out my little man. After doing some checking, she asked me, "Do you think your son looks yellow?" I was thinking to myself, through all my postpartum hormonal thoughts, why would she ask ME, if SHE is the doctor!!?! I responded as honestly as I could, "Well, just a little. But I'm around him all the time, so not really. Other people have said he does look a little bit jaundiced." "WELL [said with an I'm-smart-you're-dumb attitude], he is!" She then proceeded to tell me I needed to get his bilirubin levels checked -immediately-! I wasn't too concerned, and I was already going in to take a school final that day (which was a big mistake in in itself), but I told the doctor I would do it, before she totally lost her head. Seriously, she was already formulating a treatment plan!

So, I endured the heel prick and crying of my poor baby boy. I was told that the lab would contact me and the doctor's office within the next 24 hours. The day went by, with a missed call from the doctor, I never got around to calling her back. The next day I get a call from the doctor, again, asking what was going on with the tests. I told her I had no idea. She then lectured to me about how important this was, and how jaundice can cause brain damage. (I later found out that she also called my "emergency number" at my parent's house, because she couldn't get a hold of me on the first try). So I called the lab, and they gave me Bug's bili levels. There were at 12.9-which isn't high enough yet for treatment. I called the doctor to let her know, but she was still wigging out and demanded that I make another appointment with her to get an order for another heel prick for Bug. I was NOT enthused about that idea, and I told her I didn't think it was necessary. She continued to tell me how serious this was, and how important it was, and how dangerous it was. She kept throwing out the brain damage card. I told her I would call later to reschedule an appointment. I didn't.

In the meantime, I did call a pediatrician's office. I asked the nurse about jaundice and bili levels. She said the ped would probably order another test to make sure the levels were going down, but as long as the baby is eating well, pooping regularly, and not lethargic, everything was most likely fine. Well, check, definitely check, and absolutely check all three of those tests. I was confident that Bug would recover from his jaundice in no time, and with no complications.

The next day, the doctor calls me. "Mama, you were supposed to bring Bug in so I could order another test for his jaundice." I was really nervous, because I HATE talking on the phone...plus, I knew I was about to fire this doctor for being an incompetent spaz that loved to harass new mothers. I sucked it up, and tried to keep my voice steady as I told her that I thought she was wrong and unprofessional, that I had contacted another doctor, I would no longer be seeing her, and that she should expect contact soon to transfer Bug's records. She asked me what doctor I was going to take him to (which I later found out is against HIPAA laws for her to ask that. Luckily, I told her that I would not disclose that information!) After a long pause, she said, "Well, I'm just afraid that your son has brain damage." [emphasis added]. EXCUSE ME!?!?! HAS?!?!? Absolutely nothing warrants that! No doctor is going to tell me, without any evidence, that my son HAS brain damage. I sternly told her that I did NOT agree, and then I hung up.

A day or so later, CPS knocks on my door and handed me my Bad Mom Award. Thank you, thank you! I'd like to thank my jaundiced son, and most importantly, my idiot doctor! I couldn't have done it without you!

And the update: Apparently CPS realized that the "concern" was bogus, because I haven't had any trouble with them since. Although, I will remain on record with them for 3 years. Such is life. I did go to the new pediatrician. He is great. Bug hasn't been back since he was just over a month old though, because he is healthy as can be. His jaundice cleared up quickly. And guess what, they haven't called me to tell me that they think my son has brain damage!

[If any readers in my area are interested to know who the idiot doctor is, so they can avoid her, her name is Dr. Cynthia Villacis, with Goshen Family Practice.]

Postpartum Hair Loss

My son is now 3 months old. For the past several weeks, I have been pulling out literally handfuls of hair. Well, I'm not really PULLING them out, I just run my hands through my hair and all the hairs just come right along. It is probably the most distressing thing I have had to deal with postpartum (PP). Even more distressing than having to use a nipple shield to get my baby to nurse (darn inverted nipples)! When I wake up in the morning, it is now routine to collect the hair off of my pillow, bed, husband, baby, self...and that dang nipple shield. It seems almost humorous to me now, typing about it. But, then I think of the tears that I have shed, while sincerely believing that if this keeps up for the next 6-9 months, I will most certainly go bald. I have researched it all...of course, it is normal to lose about 200 hairs a day PP. 200, eh? Now, I'm really not counting, but I just have a hunch that I'm losing more than that. How do I get it to stop? My only idea is to get pregnant again, so I will once again have wonderfully luscious hair. Which leads me to my next problem...How do I get myself to ovulate while breastfeeding?