- 6 years ago
- Wedding: July 2012
I haven’t forgotten about the Bee! I love it here and have no intention of leaving. Life has been a bit busy, but I am returning to work tomorrow, so it should easy up since that’s typically when I comment and browse. I will start off by saying that parts of this may get Too Much Information, so if you are easily offended I recommend not reading since I am pretty much holding nothing back. I hope I can shed some light on some of the big questions women have about the recovery experience because there were a few things I wish I knew! I kind of separated things out a little so that way if you’re not interested in reading about my epic first bowel movement, you can skip it, lol.
So I opted to do a two day stay at the hospital (rather than one) because of my tearing. I was hoping to have my first bowel movement there in case it was bad as well because I was scared. Plus I wanted to learn as much about breastfeeding as I could. When they moved me to my room they gave me the mesh undies, which I am thankful for. They’re not that uncomfortable. I recommend wearing them rather than your own because you will bleed. Probably a lot. You’ll be sore down yonder as well as having contractions, tired, and focused way too much on your baby to worry about if you soak through them. And honestly I’m glad I ruined the mesh undies over my pretty ones. I bled pretty heavily for the first two days and then everything lightened up to a heavy period (at 4 weeks pp I finally stopped bleeding). They did give me a big pad, but it didn’t bother me. I have never worn a tampon in my life, so perhaps that’s why it didn’t, but they gave me a Tena brand pad.
They wanted me to go pee right after delivering. I had went twice while I was in labor, which is super difficult when you’re contracting and hadn’t had much water besides the IV (or any water really because I puked it all up while giving birth) so I didn’t have to go. Laken, my nurse, told me that if I didn’t pee within an hour they would have to catheter me. Scared to death, I drank water like a crazy mofo so I could pee, which I did end up doing an hour later. It wasn’t easy, even with them coming in to push on my tummy to see if my uterus was shrinking at an acceptable rate. That wasn’t fun especially after having my doctor press all his weight on my tummy to try to push my placenta out. They recommended taking a bath, which I did and hated every minute of it because I hate baths as it is and they jets turned on automatically, and I could NOT find the off switch. Here I come to find out there is a metal pad on the side of the tub that just looks like the company’s logo that is sensitive to touch.
In-law update: So the day I delivered DH’s grandparents were in town for their monthly visit, but because of the weather they had to leave right away. Remember too I delivered at 11:27a and didn’t get settled into my room until the afternoon, so when Darling Husband called his mom of course what is the FIRST thing she would say (to her credit, she did get excited first)? “Did you call your grandma? She’s going to be SO upset she didn’t get to see you guys before they left.” Darling Husband, God bless his soul, says, “Yeah, well, mom…I don’t care. We just got settled in, and Megz just had a baby you know. We were obviously a little busy and that is YOUR job to call her if it’s that important because I’m spending time with my family.” I about shit myself when he said that to her. Darling Husband then called his dad. What’s the first thing he said? “Tristan? Why did you name him that?” Darling Husband says, “We liked the name.” Father-In-Law says, “Well, I don’t. You should change it.” He was also the first to visit and didn’t want to hold DS. Darling Husband pretty much forced him, and all he did was scowl and then handed DS back after 3 minutes. Mother-In-Law was actually decent when she came. I enjoyed having visitors because there wasn’t much to do, and it was fun to share our precious son with everyone. She came the first day and the next day and was respectful when I asked her to leave when I needed to breastfeed, so no complaints…yet.
Breastfeeding #1: Anyway, I spent most of my time learning to breast feed, which was tough, and I will explain a little more later, but every time I tried to nurse him he would cough. I told them that as well as the fact that he’d fall asleep at my breast, and they kept telling me to be patient and keep trying. I could also undress him, place a cold cloth on him, tickle his feet, all these different things to keep him awake. I struggled with him because he just was adamant about rejecting me, coughing and sputtering, and then only nursing for 5 minutes when they wanted him to nurse for 15. They would come in to help me and they would literally shove him onto my boob, he’d latch, they’d leave, and 10 seconds after leaving he’d unlatch. I had one nurse that both Darling Husband and I were ready to punch. She was the only nurse who wouldn’t listen to me. I told her I hated breastfeeding while laying down side by side. I just didn’t have the coordination for it, and she just didn’t care and had me do it anyway and then rejoiced when it “worked” by saying, “See? You just have to try again.” Lo and behold as soon as she left the room, he unlatched and wouldn’t nurse. Darling Husband was going to call her in to help me get to him to relatch, and I told him no because I just didn’t want her in there, so I just left it alone.
When we left the hospital, DS had lost 7 ounces. Not to downplay it, but it they made it seem like a big deal, which I later come to find out I had two weeks to get him back to birth weight so I spent my first week home literally crying to death and Google searching to fix this. Anyway, that’s for later. So you may have noticed that I did not take my first poop in the hospital like I wanted to. The doctor said I will want to take it within a day or so or I’d be hurting.
The first poo: We got home on April 2, and it wasn’t until two days later when I finally had to go. I had been taking stool softeners provided by the hospital, so I figured it wouldn’t be so bad. First of all, you have no pusher. Plus it is so scary to push because I was afraid it was going to hurt as bad as everyone says. It was like I couldn’t push or use my stomach muscles at all, which was silly since I had just used them to push a baby out. It was like my body forgot how, so I figured I had to go bad enough so I would let it just come out on its own. Plus I had a horrible pressure in my labia and butt. Well, it wasn’t coming out. I tried to relax, switch positons, everything, and it just wasn’t coming out, but every time I stood up to maybe walk a little bit, I felt like I had to go, and it hurt so fucking bad since it was pressing on my hemmoroids. After a half an hour went by I started crying, mostly out of frustration. Yes…I was so frustrated I cried. Darling Husband heard me, knocked on the door and asked if he could come in. I want to note: I have never peed or pooped in front of this man, and I have only farted in front of him a handful of times. I have always been modest, and I was trying to reserve what last little bit of dignity I had left after he watched the birth, but he was adamant about wanting to come in so I let him. There I was, naked as a jay bird (hey, I got real warm working so hard lol), crying my eyes out on the toilet. Darling Husband knelt down, wrapped his arms around me and asked me not to cry. He said everything was going to be ok and that he loved me and said if I could deliver a baby, I could do this. It was the most awkward pep talk, but at the time it was very comforting. This will later be the biggest mistake ever, but I had him grab me Dulcolax and magnesium citrate. I drank the bottle of magnesium citrate and took two Dulcolax as well as ate 5 prunes. 10 minutes later I had to go again. In my effort to get this poo out, I tried to massage my tail bone. I ended up having to massage my right buttcheek, like close to my butthole, to massage it out. It came out in small pieces, and then with all my might I pushed to just get this over with. It came out in a mass.
Now, I didn’t think it looked that bad, and I hardly used any toilet paper, so I flushed. Yeah…I plugged up the toilet. Darling Husband worked for 3 hours, until one in the morning, to get it out and was unsuccessful. He actually was so frustrated, he woke me up at 1:00a to ask me if I plugged it up with too much toilet paper or the poop. He tried again the next morning and still couldn’t, and he was so mad at me because he convinced himself it was because I used too much paper. Anyway, my dad ended up coming over and had to take the toiler apart (there was no plunging this bad boy or using the CO2 plunger thing). I kid you not…he had to take it off, get the poo out, which he said was as big as a baseball (so when the doc says its like delivering a second baby, it truly is), and bought a new wax ring, lol.
This whole thing gets worse. So, backing up a bit, remember that bottle of magnesium citrate I drank and the Dulcolax and the 5 prunes? It decided to start working 6 hours after my big poo. That morning at about 4a I came upstairs to breast feed. Breast feeding gives you contractions and kind of stimulates the muscles in the abdomen, and holy shit did I have to, well, shit. I obviously couldn’t use the bathroom upstairs so, baby in arms, I am running as fast as my sore body will take me, down two flights of steps to get to the other bathroom. I was too in the moment to put the baby down elsewhere so I could just run into the bathroom right away, so I instead spent my precious, VERY precious seconds waking my Darling Husband up. As I am shitting my pants, trying to wake him up, he fell back to sleep, and I was so upset I screamed, “GET YOUR ASS OUT OF BED AND TAKE THE BABY!!!” I shoved DS in his arms and ran into the bathroom. It was mortifying. This is a moment, if you experience it, that you will praise Jesus for the big ugly hospital pads because if I didn’t have one of those, I probably would have been cleaning the house from the top of the step until the downstairs bathroom, BUT I ended up only having to throw out a pair of panties and cleaning my pajama pants a little. And taking a shower. My guts were still churning the next day. I ended up pooping a lot that day. Since then I ended up constipated a few more times, and eventually pushing got easier. At 5 weeks PP, I can finally poo normally. My hemmroids are gone, and the pressure, while still there, isn’t near as bad.
Breastfeeding #2: I want to mention first of all to take care of yourself. In my effort to care for my son and breastfeed, I forgot to take care of myself. I was barely eating my first week. I would guess I’d have somewhere around 700 calories to eat (minus 500 for breastfeeding, yikes!) so remember yourself. Breastfeeding was such a huge undertaking in the first few days that I ended up sleeping in my chair with DS because he would cry every time we put him in the crib. Eventually we realized that he took really good naps in the bassinet that came with the pack and play so we just put him in there to sleep, and we have had better luck. I didn’t think I was going to use that thing ever. Anyway, because of the amount of weight he lost the hospital told me to feed him every 3 hours for 15 minutes on each breast, so, like clockwork, day and night, I spent every 3 hours fighting with him…fighting to get him latched, stay latched, and not scream bloody murder every time he’d start nursing. And forget about nursing him for 15 minutes on each side. I was lucky if he nursed 3-5. The hospital wanted me to use every different hold and ensured me that I would want to. Honestly, that’s bullshit. I cradle him, and he does just fine. I hate baths, but if it wasn’t for them I probably wouldn’t have had the time to research why he hated nursing so much. First, I figured out why he was coughing and sputtering. The hospital had me doing the football hold most of the time because DS couldn’t unlatch. In the hospital, that was all well and good because my milk hadn’t come in. Once I got home, he was choking because I had a fast let down, and the football hold made it even worse. I had no idea what letdown was prior to having a baby (to be honest I did very little research on breastfeeding). I thought it was normal for my milk to just flow out when he’d give it one suck. After spending a full bath researching Kelly Mom articles, which is the BEST breastfeeding website in the world, I found a solution. I’d let him nurse on that for a few seconds, break his latch if he hadn’t already, and then express some milk in a burp cloth then get him relatched. Second, I forced myself to vow to myself that I wouldn’t force him to nurse. If he was seriously fussing that much why force him to drink and get all worked up to the point of throwing up? Kelly Mom also said that can cause him to reject me altogether, and I didn’t want that. Third, I had to find what worked for US. The hospital said feed him every 3 hours. The lactation consultant I worked with said feed him every hour and a half. Facebook friends, which I made the big mistake of asking, said to let him sleep until he cried out of hunger. I couldn’t do that because he was a very sound sleeper. He would sleep 4 hours at a time, and when your baby isn’t gaining weight, you just can’t. Plus, if I let him get too hungry, he’d fuss so much he wouldn’t eat and then when he would he’d eat too much too fast and throw up. Every hour and a half wasn’t working either because he would fuss because it was too often, and he was too tired. Every 3 hours worked, BUT it wasn’t often enough to gain weight. So we did every 3 hours at night and every 2-2 ½ hours during the day. We went back to the clinic every single day for a week to make sure he was gaining weight. 6 days later, he was one ounce under birth weight, and one of the nurses was like, “You know, you had two weeks to get him back to birth weight.” That would have been nice to know because I probably wouldn’t have spent all my time freaking the fuck out and researching this like a crazy lunatic.
So as of his one month appointment he weighs 8lbs 8oz! We did a 9 ounce gain in just over a week actually. He gets me up about every 3 hours each night to nurse. During the day he nurses every 3-5. I do on-demand feeding, so whenever he roots around, I feed him. I call him my little mitten muncher because that’s how I know he’s hungry—when he starts sticking his hands (which usually have mittens on them so he doesn’t scratch his face) in his mouth. He also gets this crazy look in his eyes like he’s going to bite my boob off, lol.
Inlaw update #2: My Mother-In-Law came on the 17<sup>th</sup> of April for her birthday. She came a half an hour before Darling Husband came home. I not only am still sore, but I have a new baby that’s crying and a 130 pound dog to hold back so he doesn’t run out the door, and she just stands there, expecting me to go out and help her carry all her stuff in. Yeah, that totally didn’t happen. We talked a little bit, and DS started crying. I am not the kind of mom that picks my son up at the first little cry. This may not be everyone’s preference, but I allow him to cry for a few minutes unless I know for a fact it’s a diaper or hunger. My Mother-In-Law says, “Well, I’m going to go pick up my grandson because I will NOT let him cry.” So as she’s holding him, she mentions Mother’s Day and said that they are celebrating DH’s grandpa’s birthday that day. First of all, his birthday isn’t even on Mother’s Day. Second, it’s 3 hours away from us, and third, it’s MOTHER’S DAY. My FIRST Mother’s Day. He said, “We are having his birthday that day. I know great grandma would love to see her new great grandson, but I told her that may be a bit too much.” I said, “Yeah, we probably won’t be able to make it. Plus I am looking forward to my first Mother’s Day, so (DH) and I will be doing something special.” Mother-In-Law says, “Yeah, well, it’s grandmother’s day, so both great grandma and I should get flowers.” Where the eff does this woman come from? Seriously? It’s my first Mother’s Day. I then got too upset, so I texted Darling Husband and told him he had to come home asap. He did and said he needed to run to the store. His mom told him while he’s there to “pick me up a birthday cake in case you forgot it’s your mother’s birthday.” Oh she is such a peach.
Speaking of peaches…my aunt has also been grinding my gears. In one of my other posts I explained that while I was pregnant she said that I was going to be a bad mom and my parents would take care of him for me. Well, she ended up eating her words about a week after I came home. She told my mom that I was a good mom, and mom told her to tell that to me. She never did. So I was feeling good, but about two weeks ago I went to visit my parents and DS started crying. It was a hungry cry, and I decided to finish my small slice of pie before feeding him. Yes he was crying, but he seriously cried for a minute, nothing more. Within that minute, my aunt, who looked visibly upset, picked him up. It’s funny about people with babies…someone picked up the baby, they stop crying, and the person always smiles and says, “Oh, he stopped crying because I made it happen.” And then the baby starts crying 10 seconds later. Well, that’s what happened. I took him from her, and she said, “You shouldn’t let him cry like that.” I said, “Why? He isn’t going to die from crying for a minute while I finish my food.” She said, “Babies that cry that hard can rupture something!” I said, “Well all the colic babies are doomed then.” I went into the bedroom to nurse, and apparently she turned to Darling Husband and said, “babies that cry that hard can get a hernia.” He just shook his head. She obviously hasn’t been around my DS when he screams for 3 hours a night for no reason.
All in all, being a mom has been amazing. I love my son to pieces. He is just over a month old and, by two weeks old, he could already hold up his head. His neck muscles are incredibly strong. He LOVES tummy time and tries to crawl. It is so much fun to see him learn and grow. He has such a little personality! He mostly looks like me, but when he stretches, he looks like his daddy. Motherhood has matured me. I find myself being protective and more in tune with my baby’s needs than my own. I am still immature in the sense that when DS farts, I giggle every time. It is hilarious, and I don’t know if I will outgrow that, lol.
If you have any questions about the PP healing process no question is too embarrassing or graphic for me to answer (obviously). I wish I would have known a few embarrassing, awkward things before I had to go through them!