The State of Me, post partum take 2.

After giving birth to Mia, it took me over a year to start caring about myself again. Caring about my body, my appearance, my hair, clothes, everything. I'm not sure I realized it while I was in that post-partum funk. I wouldn't necessary escalate it to PPD, but having a baby, becoming a mother and coming to terms with your new identity was difficult for me. Adding a second baby does add a lot of work, but it doesn't change who you are quite as much. Yes, there is a new person and that is certainly a big deal, but I'm already a Mom, so the adjustment was just that much easier.

Of course, I'm still nursing. That is what my body is doing right now, that is what my body is for. I decide what to eat based on that, skip my allergy medicine despite feeling congested, choose my clothing, choosing beer over wine. I suppose this will continue until she's a year old and we start to wean, but for now, it's still a huge part of me, and my life. 

I am, and have been for a while, watching what I eat. Immediately after having Lucy, I dropped all the baby weight within 4 weeks of giving birth. I was back in pre-pregnancy jeans, despite a flabbier midsection. I don't know how to explain it, but it may have been a combination of the difficult recovery decreasing my appetite, plus the round the clock nursing that did it. But, as soon as my supply regulated but my appetite did not, I gained everything back. I didn't realize it until my pants started feeling tight again, but I started low-carbing and got some very quick results. Of course, my milk supply totally tanked, and I realized that my usual method of cutting carbs out completely was not going to work out this time around.

It's probably for the best, actually. Instead of being very strict with my eating for a shorter period of time, I have to be sensible for a long period of time. It's been just over 6 weeks now, but B and I are still eating well. We've eliminated white starches (but I have to eat a starch at every meal). I've lost 12 lbs, which puts me at about 8 lbs until pre-pregnancy weight. The scale hasn't budged in a couple of weeks, but I'm hoping that Lucy will start sleeping semi-regularly again soon, and I can actually wake up with enough energy to do a little bit of yoga once in a while. The belly flab is pretty serious this time, though. It felt like it was pretty flabby after giving birth to Mia, but stretching that skin for a second time seems to have pushed its limits -- it's not bouncing back. 

Another lovely post-partum side effect that has really shown up this time around: hair loss. For a little while there, I was shedding multiple handfuls of hair during each shampoo. I had a lot of hair, and it's pretty thick, so it doesn't look bad, or thinning at all, but it is significant. I can go around my ponytail 4 times with a hair tie now, when it used to be 3. I'd easily estimate that I've at least lost 1/3 of my hair. It'll come back, and when it does, I'll have a lovely head of chia hair.

Throwback Tuesday: Mia's birth story

This blog post was written (and published) on my [now defunct] family blog, and I thought it would be fun to repost it here while I wait (and wait and wait) for Baby #2 to make her appearance.

Tuesday, May 31, 2011

Mia's Birth Story

Mia Jennifer
 7 lbs, 2oz, 19"
May 25, 2011 at 4:56pm

By now, I am hoping that nobody is learning of Mia's birth for the first time from this blog. However, B and I are proud to announce the birth of our daughter, Mia Jennifer, on Wednesday, May 25th, 2011. For posterity, and other people's curiosity, I'd like to share Mia's Birth Story.

On Tuesday, May 24th, I had my final appointment with my OB. I had a morning appointment, but Dr. K was busy at the hospital again, so I didn't end up being seen until around noon. He did an exam, and found that I was about 2 centimeters dilated, but manually pushed me to 3 cm (which hurt like crazy, btw). He warned that I might have some mild cramping and bleeding.

After stopping for lunch at Jimmy John's, my cramps started to become a bit of a nuisance, enough so that I decided not to go into work that afternoon and lay down. The cramps "progressed" and became what I would consider contractions around 3 or 4 pm, and I began timing them at 9 minutes apart around 5. I decided to call B at 6pm, so that I could catch him before he left for his softball game that night. I didn't tell him that my contractions had progressed from 9 to 8 minutes apart by then, but that I'd like him to keep an eye on his phone in between innings. No use in him rushing home if the contractions went away, like I expected them to.

By 2 am, we decided this wasn't a false alarm, and it was time to head to the hospital. After gathering some essentials, taking a shower, we headed to the Hospital, car seat already installed. Mom followed us shortly afterwards. It was a very busy night at the Labor and Delivery, so I spent the first few hours of my hospital stay in a large triage room which lots of people would periodically walk through. I was at 4 cm dilated by the time I was checked by Cindy, my very nice overnight nurse. She had the exact attitude that I needed, especially since I was so nervous about getting the all the little procedures done (like the IV, epidural, etc.), and the fact that I was still not in my own room.

Dr. H, my very nice anesthesiologist came in and put in the epidural around 5 am. It was every bit as unpleasant as I expected, but B and Cindy coached me through and soon enough, I could only feel my toes. My contractions almost stopped once the epidural kicked in, so I was given pitocin after all to speed up my dilation. Cindy put in an internal fetal monitor, which is a little probe that gets stuck to the baby's head, and we had our first clue of what Mia looked like. Cindy had to put in two probes, because the first one got so tangled in her hair that the readings were not coming through!

By the time I was 6 centimeters dilated, they decided that I definitely needed to be moved into my own room. Since there still were no labor and delivery rooms, I was put in a makeshift room by adding the necessary machines/baby nursery/delivery table/bed with stirrups to a postpartum room. It was a bit crowded, but luckily, I wasn't moved again for the rest of my hospital stay.

Once I was settled in my new room, my day shift nurse named Haze started. B and I were thrilled to find that she was the nurse assigned to us, because she taught the birthing class which we attended a couple of months earlier. Haze has been a labor and delivery nurse for about 30 years. She was no-nonsense and efficient. Even though she was basically a 180 from Cindy, she was exactly what I needed as a coach during the actual delivery.

Around 4pm, after laying numbly and miserably in my bed for the whole day, I was finally 10 cm dilated. Mom, B and I asked whether Dr. K had been called yet, since we assumed he should be there before I start pushing. Haze said that Doctors don't get called until crowning, so we had a little work to do first. Dr. K had already stopped by to check on me a few times, since he had 8 women in various stages of delivery at the hospital at the time.

Apparently, I was unexpectedly efficient at pushing, because after about 30 minutes, Haze urgently called for Dr. K. When he still hadn't arrived 5 minutes later, Haze made a "NURSE DELIVERY" announcement into my call button and about 5 different people came rushing in to "catch" our little girl. Dr. K came in about 30 seconds later, welcomed by a crying baby. Unfortunately, Mia came out with one of her arms up by her face, rather than it staying down by her body as most babies do, so Dr. King arrived just in time to fix the damage. Luckily, it was nothing too serious.

Our first family photo!

At 7 lbs, 2 oz and 19 inches, Mia showed everyone that she was quite a bit trimmer than she was expected to be. She also had a full head of dark hair, very chubby cheeks and an adorable round nose. Our new little family spent the next two nights in the hospital, to make sure Mia was feeding properly and I was healing well.

The name game

We picked a name for this little squirmy bundle that I am carrying. It's not a secret, we've been sharing it. My feeling is basically that if we've decided, there's no reason not to. If you haven't decided, and you share the names you're thinking about, then you're opening yourself up to feedback. You're basically telling people they are welcome to help you decide. We've decided to name our daughter Lucy. A simple, pretty, straightforward, unfussy name that I've liked for a long time, and absolutely loved paired with Mia. Mia & Lucy. The name itself, however, is not the point of my story.

The thing is, when you share the name you've picked, you aren't looking for feedback. You just aren't. If you really want to avoid all feedback, then you keep the name to yourself until your child is born and named. But that's just isn't how we are! Sharing the name is fun, and I've come to expect that the people I am sharing this piece of information with know the rules. If you aren't pregnant, and are talking hypothetically about baby names, then opine away. That is the time to share whether you like someone's choice. If someone is pregnant, and they're telling you about what names they like, your role is simple: if you like the name, enthuse away. If you don't, pretend you do. The rule doesn't change, no matter who the expecting parents are, no matter what your relationship is to them. You do not have a role in naming their child.

Of course, you can guess from the above that someone strayed from that rule. None other than my Father in Law, B's Dad. Of course, someone whose behavior can bring me quickly (very quickly) to anger. B isn't great at keeping in touch with his family. He speaks to his father monthly, at most. It's not that they aren't close, I think they are, but keeping in touch doesn't occur to them. B and his Dad had their monthly catch up yesterday, and B shared the name we had decided on.

FIL's reaction: "Nah, I don't like it." Very casual, very matter of fact. B's response: "Uh, OK. Well, that's what we decided, so that's what she'll be named..." FIL's response: "[Wife] doesn't like it, either." ... I am, sitting on the couch, just outside of FaceTime range SEETHING. Shaking my head, making SEETHING eyes at B, who is also, visibly upset. FIL tries to change the subject, ask what else is up. B informs him that it's time to make dinner (despite it being 4pm...), and they hang up.

WTF

Blog Baby Boom

There were two births this past week (I believe both were July 4th, actually!) in the blogs-I-follow world. Cristy had Gloria, and Michelle Au over at the Underwear Drawer had Nina. I've been keeping a close eye on their blogs for the past few days, just waiting to hear news. It's funny, because despite having no communication with these two women outside of reading their blogs and occasional comments, I'm genuinely happy for their expanding families.

I know there are have been other births in the blog-world since my own, many many more, actually, but these are the first that have elicited any kind of response from my own uterus. I think I might feel a twinge of baby-fever coming from down there, albeit a low-grade one. It seems easy enough to explain, these two births are perfectly timed with Mia beginning her departure from baby-hood. At a forth of July party we went to on Wednesday, there was a 10 month old baby that we spent a few minutes with. It's amazing what a difference just 4 months make in a baby's development; it made me miss having a little cuddly bundle. It's been 13 months and a few days since my own labor and delivery, and evidently, that's the amount of time it takes for me to think back on my time at the hospital (and the following weeks of difficulties) with any amount of fondness. Actually, it's probably around this time last year that I started being comfortable moving again.

I've said before that I didn't have a complicated pregnancy, labor, or delivery. I had a vaginal delivery, with only about 30 minutes of pushing. But, because Mia's arm was up around her face instead of down alongside her body, I got third degree tears. Mia came out before my Doctor made it into the delivery room, so there was nobody to do an episiotomy. These are not so uncommon, but extremely uncomfortable and slow to heal (for me), so the six weeks after delivery were slow and painful. I blame my difficulty losing weight and exercising now to my 6 weeks of complete inactivity during my maternity leave. It's nothing compared to what a lot of people go through, but hey, it was tough on me.

But now? I'm OK with what happened. And yes, the tearing is likely to happen again, but at least if/when there is a second time around, we'll be ready for it. So far, I have had ZERO desire for a second child, except for not wanting Mia to be an only child. But that hasn't seemed like reason enough. To have a second child, it has to be more than just wanting to give your first child something that you find important. You have to want more people in your family! B and I continued to talk as if there would be a second child, making plans to upsize our car in 2013, buying a new carseat for Mia with the intention of reusing her infant one for #2. But in the back of my mind, it's always been an "if".

There are people close to me who I know want another child, but for one reason or another, are unable to, or have been unable to so far. My sister in law and her husband have been having difficulties conceiving #2, even though #1 was conceived in their first month of trying. It's hard to talk about my own past struggle with whether I want another one since my friends either 1)have no babies, or 2)want more, but can't. And also, because of how difficult her struggle has been, I guess I don't want to put my decision off too long. I don't want to wait the three years that we want between our kids, only to find out that we will have trouble with #2 also. Of course, there are questions. Whether we can afford another daycare bill, whether I can take another, longer maternity leave, whether we think we have enough energy to devote to raising a second baby. But finally, I am starting to feel confident that yes, we'll plan on having more. I can do it. I want to do it.

Just not yet. We'll just have to hope for the best, but our family is not ready for a second addition.

Adoption

I want to adopt.

When I was in my late teens/early twenties and had very few romantic prospects, I openly told anyone who asked that my plan was to adopt if I was still single by age 35. While I am now only age 27, married, and already have a son, I still do want to adopt. And now sooner rather than later. I have been told that due to the heart complications from my pregnancy with Tybalt, that I MUST not have another natural child. My odds of surviving what happened were about 75% (one out of every four women die), so I am a miracle to be living as it is. If I get pregnant again, the mortality rate changes to 50%. Those are not odds I want to gamble with. And even if by some small chance I did want to throw caution to the wind, my husband has said ABSOLUTELY NOT. Can I blame him? No.

But I always wanted 4 children. Romeo actually never really planned on marrying and having kids until meeting me, so our compromise became 2 children if we were blessed with one of each gender, or 3 if the first 2 were the same sex, so that we could try for the other. After 3 we would assume we had what God wanted us to and stop there no matter what. (Is it okay to admit that as much as I love my son more than life itself, I've always wanted a girl, so when our ultrasound showed us we were expecting a boy, I took a bit of solace knowing we were still going to try for a girl later.)

Enter the fact that now I have just one child, and of course being the miracle he is gender does not matter, but I've been told I can never get pregnant again, and it's driving me mad! Looney! Horribly sad and disappointed. You get the idea. I just don't think our family is complete. No matter whether we are destined for another wonderful boy or a sweet girl, it's just not complete.

So, I want to adopt. Here are the 2 main roadblocks currently, however:

1) While Romeo and I have discussed adoption and he is open to it, he has been honest in that he doesn't feel the same longing right now as I do for another child. After seeing me so medically fragile and having to face the reality he might have had to parent alone, he is just grateful I am okay and our son is healthy. He has said he is satisfied, at least for now, with the size and make-up of our family. During these honest conversations he has also said that he admits he can't predict how he will feel "down the road" and that maybe in a handful of years he will want another child. And if that is the case, he is all for adoption. But as for now, he is content. So, what that means is that while I want to start to do the research and fill out the apps, and do what is needed to get on a program's list now, seeing it could take quite a while to actually be matched and adopt even after we are officially approved to do so, Romeo just isn't ready yet. And so, I wait. And try harder to convince him in the meantime.

2) The money. I am ashamed to say it, but we have no savings. Nada. We would have to start saving bit by bit now, and with our meager budget that is extremely hard. So, I just don't know how we could ever afford it. Yes, I know fostering-to-adopt is an option many perspective parents use, but I really don't think it's for me. My hat goes off to those who can, but I just don't think I have it in me. First of all, I don't think I could handle caring for a child yet knowing everyday they could be reunited with their parents. In fact, that is actually the goal in most foster cases--to reunite the parent(s) and child after the parent(s) learn the error of their ways and are rehabilitated. Secondly, most foster system children are school-aged. I risk sounding selfish, I know, but I want to adopt an infant, a newborn particularly. I missed out on SO much of Tybalt's early development, and I want that with my second child.

Anyway, those are my musings for the night.

P.S. Don't be surprised if I start to add some adoption mother blogs to our Mommy In The Sin City favorites list. I have started to find a number that are very interesting and supportive for all women to read, be you a biological mother, birth mother, adoptive mother, or a woman attempting or contemplating being a parent-- be it naturally or through adoption.

The Birth Story

I've mentioned my pregnancy induced health problems before, but for some reason I felt tonight that I needed to touch on it again. Maybe sub-consciously I need the therapeutic aspect that "getting it out" can bring. And I started to write what is now this blog post as part of my bio page. But I quickly realized it was much too complicated and lengthy to be part of my basic bio. So, here it is as a separate blog post. On another note, check out my new official bio page! Click on the "About Juliet" tab in the upper left! :)

My pregnancy wasn't difficult, but it wasn't easy. I have a bad back and it exasperated it. But aside from morning sickness in the beginning, my back was my only complaint for about 7 months. Because I'm obese my ob-gyn was even thrilled that I LOST weight in the beginning and then stayed steady until about month 5 or 6. But gradually the weight creeped up, until about the 7.5 or 8 month mark where it exponentially added up. And around the same time I was gradually having more and more trouble with my breathing. Simply catching my breath at first but then not being able to breath if reclining at all. Exams and x-rays and hospital stays and further tests all occured but there was no fluid in my lungs, no super high blood pressure or other signs of complications such as pre-eclampsia or eclampsia.

At 37 weeks my son was delivered via emergency c-section due to bleeding (still unknown as to whether it had anything to do with all the other symptoms or my final diagnosis), and I experienced heart failure on the table. I was diagnosed with post-partum cardiomyopathy. It is a rare but life threatening condition in which the pregnant mother's heart expands and causes the mitral valve to not properly control the blood flow. And all my symptoms during pregnancy? Common symptoms of cardiomyopathy. But there is no clear testing guidelines currently in place to check for the disease because of it's rarity and unknown cause. It is unknown why any woman ever develops it. Why pregnancy causes it in any woman. I was an in-patient for three months. The first few days I was touch and go in ICU. I have no memory of the first two months due to heavy sedation. The silver lining? My beautiful, healthy, blessing of a son, Tybalt.

The First Known Picture Of Mommy And Son (I Have No Memory Of It)

Tybalt Visits Mommy (Again, I Was Sedated And Don't Remember)

Family Picture When Mommy Is Finally More Alert (And Allowed To Get Fresh Air!)

A Few Days Before Mommy's Discharge

Shhhh!

Whenever anyone would ask how I, Romeo, or Tybalt were doing, my husband and I would only half-jokingly say that Tybalt was the one who came out on top. I was horribly sick; my husband was horribly stressed. Tybalt however, was healthy, happy, and had round-the-clock love and affection from his grandparents, my in-laws. And it took an additional three months of at-home (read: my mother-in-law's home where my husband moved us into during the whole hubabaloo) rehab once I was released from the hospital, but once I was back on my feet Tybalt probably thought he had four loving full-time parents between me, Romeo, Grandma, and Grandpa. This kid won the lottery when it comes to love and attention. Even then though, I spent as much time bonding with him as possible so he would know who Mommy was.

A Tradition Is Born! Tybalt and Mommy Kiss At 4 Months!

When Tybalt was 6 months old, I was able to be alone with him and take care of him all by myself, so Romeo and I found a new apartment and moved out of MIL's basement. Our "baby" is now 14 months old and I have been full-time Mommy for about 10 months. It feels...different. Wonderful but weird. Because while we have permanently and properly bonded at this point I still feel like I am playing catch-up to some extent. And I wonder if I always will feel that way because of the first months and milestones that I missed.

And now, just for fun, some more pictures of my beautiful baby boy:

One Of My All-Time Favorite Pictures. Look At Those Rosy Cheeks and That Smile!

Mommy And Tybalt Venture Out Into The "Real World" Alone Together

Tired Of Trying On Clothes!

My Son, The Flirt!

Crazy Towel-Dried After-Bath Hair

His New Specs!

"Hello, Mommy!"

Pregnancy Envy

Yesterday, I had an another appointment at my OB's office. Most of his patients are pregnant women, of course. Going back into the office now that I'm all healed up and basically feeling like myself again (plus a pudgy stretchmarked belly), I looked at my fellow patients quite differently. I looked enviously at the woman next to me who was probably between five and 6 months pregnant, knowing that she's in the best part. The morning sickness is over, she's noticeably pregnant, but not uncomfortably so. There's also that deference you get from everyone else around you when you're pregnant. I got so used to people holding the door for me, letting me go in front of them in the bathroom line, and other genuinely nice things. A few times, someone would cut me off while I was driving, and I would get shocked, like, how dare you cut off a pregnant lady? Then I'd remind myself that #1 I wasn't actually entitled to going first, all the time, and that #2, they couldn't see my belly while I was behind the wheel. Now that I’ve been not pregnant for over three months, I can start to look back at my pregnant days pretty fondly. And right now, when I had to go through 3 different pairs of pants to contain my super pudgy belly, I’m certainly missing my elasto-waist pants. I even considered putting a pair on this morning…

A co-worker that travels between our Rehab Clinics delivered yesterday. A few far away facebook friends of mine are due before the end of this month, too. When I see their statuses, or see the pictures of their new babies, I can’t believe that they’re already done being pregnant. When you’re the pregnant one, those nine-almost-ten-months crawl by at a snail’s pace. I was seriously shocked to hear that my coworker delivered! My first thought was, Oh no! She delivered prematurely, I hope the baby’s OK. But my other co-workers set me straight, that she had actually gone a few days past her due date. Seriously, I’m still shocked.

As I said before, I had no real reason to complain during my pregnancy. Everything went just fine. I had normal blood pressure throughout (except for a spike right around the time I was in and out of court from Thanksgiving to Christmas last year), my feet didn’t even swell. My only complication was that I had sciatic nerve pain, which sucked, but was only uncomfortable for me and required no treatment and posed no danger to the baybay. At the time, I just didn’t like it. I’m sure I’m not the only woman to dislike being pregnant, so I guess it’s just something you start to forget after a while. How else would people ever have more than one baby?