Jun 21

Jun 21 A Birth Story: Part 4

Part 4: Home

Getting home was, to be frank, another major moment of panic and sadness (are you sensing a theme here??). The girls were absolutely wild and frantic, desperate to get to me and on high alert about the creature that smelled bizarre and was making insane noises. I stood inside our gate fortress and cried so hard I couldn’t breathe. I felt so terrible for my dogs, who had just had their world upended, and couldn’t understand why. My sister, who had stayed with them while we were in the hospital, quietly mentioned that she would like to stay the night again and watch the dogs. It never even occurred to me to ask, but I can say with confidence that the fact that she stayed that night (and, as it turned out, for the next 5 nights) absolutely saved us. She took care of the dogs, and took shifts holding the baby so we could get 45 minutes of sleep here and there, and the first night when I was too scared to put him in the bassinet, she held him for 2 or 3 hours in the chair in our room so I could sleep a little bit. Jessica, you deserve a Cartier watch, and if I could afford it I’d buy you one tomorrow. I can’t because I have 3 dogs and a baby, but you definitely deserve it.

The next few days are a blur. We continued to struggle with breastfeeding without the shield, but luckily my milk came in like a wrecking ball on Monday into Tuesday and he was clearly eating well with the shield on. Fun fact, when your milk comes in, you feel like you have the flu. I was shaking with full body chills, freezing and then sweating, and Eric was taking my temperature because he was convinced I had hypothermia. It was a scary time, but apparently this is normal. Someone should let women know.

We went to the pediatrician on Tuesday morning and while the baby had indeed lost some weight it was within the 10% allotted so we didn’t need to supplement, and we got the ok to keep going with breastfeeding using the shield. We couldn’t get a meeting with a lactation consultant until the next Monday, so we had our postpartum meeting with our doula (who is a lactation counselor) set for Tuesday. This was such a saving grace, and again I am so grateful for our doulas (@rkdoulas on instagram). She assured us he was eating fine with the shield, and that we should keep using it if he was eating well, and it was keeping us sane (all of the above). We were still trying to latch him without it first, and each feed was taking at least an hour (the beginning of which he was screaming and hungry bc he couldn’t get on without the shield) and we were all so exhausted. We decided to keep going with the shield for our sanity and that was a great decision all around.

(Note from 8 weeks into the future re: Lactation consultants and the shield—LCs are great but also can be scary people. The one who gave me the shield in the hospital scared the crap out of me, telling me 4 times it was temporary, that we should wean off, and that it’s linked to “poor outcomes for mothers and babies.” First of all, it was the only way I was able to feed him which I desperately wanted to do and I was obviously terrified and crying, so maybe calm down. Second of all, it works for plenty of people for an entire breastfeeding journey however long they want it to be, because it keeps the baby from destroying your nipples completely. Kind of.) Third of all, I was given no timeframe for “weaning off”—did she mean 2 days? A week? A month? This comment gave me so much unnecessary anxiety and I was so stressed about it when the baby was eating totally fine with it on! He was back to birth weight by a week old. Don’t let people scare you out of what’s working. We weaned off of it around a month, and it left no issues behind from using it, but it also would have been fine to keep going with it.)

I continued throughout the week to have moments of panic and crying, particularly when the sun went down was my darkest time of day. I was also having chest tightness and nausea, and I couldn’t sleep. Every time I tried, my body would fight it, because I was running on pure adrenaline. I would start to drift off and then wake up literally gasping for air. Eric was force feeding me as I cried about feeling sick, and about my chest tightness (I was checking my blood pressure which was normal, so I knew it wasn’t something more serious than anxiety), and how every time I tried to sleep it felt like my throat was closing. He again had to do the hard thing he’d done before, which was remind me that I have a real problem that’s not just in my head, and if I needed my meds it was ok to start them.

I realized he was right and began sending messages to all the different doctors to get them to okay it. It took about 5-6 days past that to track down all the doctors, but finally after being given the run around and then denied the prescription by the OB’s office because “she hadn’t prescribed it for me before”, my GP got right on a video visit with me and then sent in the prescription. Doctors say “call us with this or that symptom or question” but very few of them mean it. This is yet another reason I’m so grateful we had our doulas, as usually within 20 minutes to an hour one of them texted me back to answer my frantic questions, even if the answer was “hmm sounds ok, but couldn’t hurt to see what the doctor says.”

And I’ve had many, many questions about things I wasn’t prepared for. I didn’t realize my milk coming in would give me the shakes almost as bad as the epidural. Or that abdominal binders are more than just cosmetic. I was never offered one, but about 2-3 days after we got home I felt 2 bulges on either side behind my belly button, and it felt like my organs were just flopping around. When I laid down, I swear I felt a kidney go floating away. I messaged my doctor, but didn’t hear back for 24 hours (and the message I got back from an RN said “this is not unusual, reduce activity. Call if pain intensifies.”). My doulas answered me reassuringly within 20 minutes, and continued to reassure me for hours (days).

Continued from 8 weeks postpartum:

Over the next 2 weeks, I vacillated back and forth about whether to start my medication. I finally had a call with my therapist, who after about 40 minutes of my crying and saying I wasn’t sure what to do, said “why are you sitting there clutching your medication instead of taking it?” I’m paraphrasing, but it was along those lines.

She made me realize that sure I could keep going the way I was, and I might even be ok, but what was the downside of seeing if these medications could help me? The pediatrician had already okayed it. We had already called the infant breastfeeding safety hotline (whatever it’s called) who said it was safe. What was I afraid of? I kept saying I wasn’t sure if it was the “baby blues” or hormones or if I really needed it. Looking back, I absolutely needed it. It’s lucky I started when I did, because the hormones combined with the sleep deprivation, combined with my history put me at serious risk for serious PPD and PPA.

While I definitely did struggle for the first few weeks, by week 8 I am now feeling so much better. I’m not sleeping great (duh), but I’m sleeping enough, and that makes a world of difference too. I’m no longer crying every day multiple times a day, and when I do cry I’m able to snap out of it relatively quickly. I’m able to enjoy the baby and everything he does, and when the hard moments feel hard I’m able to remember it’s just a moment, not how it will be forever.

Here are some ways I personally knew it was more than just baby blues and that I needed help. This is probably different for each person, but in case it helps someone out there I just want to share:

1) I was having physical symptoms. Chest tightness and heart flutters (I still get this sometimes) was a big one. It feels like the moment before a presentation, nervous butterflies, etc. I had a blood pressure monitor so I knew it wasn’t a serious complication, but heart palpitations can be a sign of something serious, so this is always something to bring up to a doctor (even if they brush you off, keep asking).

2) The desperate crying. I know crying is normal, but not the way I was doing it. It was several times a day, for several weeks, past the 2 weeks they tell you are “baby blues.” I was crying about everything, silly things and also big things. And it wasn’t just tearing, it was desperate crying. The kind where your body just breaks down and you just heave and sob. This was the hardest part for Eric, as he can’t stand to see this and this was his big flag that I needed real help. Some crying is definitely normal postpartum, but this was excessive, prolonged, and painful. It continued to get worse, not better with time, which was a big flag.

3) The dread. I found myself dreading the baby waking up, dreading the next day, dreading the rest of my life. I was convinced it was going to be this way forever, and that we had made a huge mistake. I found myself desperately wishing I could disappear, and thinking that the baby and Eric deserved someone better and happier. I never had thoughts of harming myself or the baby, (if you do, don’t panic, but call a professional and/or tell someone you trust ASAP) but I definitely wished I could just leave multiple times a day. One day, a few weeks in, Eric took him on a walk and the moment I heard the door open and the stroller showed up, my heart just sank and I burst into tears. I looked at Eric and finally said “I don’t think this is normal.”

Now looking back it’s easy to say what the signs were. In the moment, it was much harder. After all, they say “if you can’t function or take care of your baby, you may have PPD.” Well, I was functioning. I was taking care of him. He was gaining weight. But I wasn’t taking care of myself. I’m glad Eric pushed me, I’m glad I had a therapist, and I’m glad I had my GP who prioritized getting me help. I still struggle some days, but I’m so far from where I was that I’m just grateful to be here sharing this, in the hopes it helps someone else just a little bit sooner.

8 weeks in to the journey of motherhood, and it feels like it’s been forever but also that it’s gone by so quickly. Each day feels insurmountable when it starts, and then I go “Oh my god it’s 3:30?!” every single day. We’re still tracking down prescriptions, pharmacy numbers, insurance claims and reimbursements, lactation consultants, pelvic floor therapists, and more. Don’t worry, there’s so much more of this journey to come. We’re closing the first chapter, but there are many, many more ahead. And I think I just might be excited about it.