My life revolves around woman and lots of them! It's amazing to have the support of woman and get to know them and grow a friendship even, BUT there comes the trying to conceive, pregnancy, birth and newborn situations. I witness this all day every day and to say the least it tends to make my heart get into naughts and I become very envious and very sad of some of the things I had longed for with my own experience, but never had.
My pregnancy was almost amazing despite my weight struggles, eating struggles and trying to except my body change. I know most woman have a hard time with this, but it's even worse when you have suffered and are still suffering from a negative body image plus an eating disorder. I struggled a lot, but besides that pregnancy was enjoyable for the most part and I really didn't have any complications so I am very thankful for that.
I had dreamed of a very peaceful, amazing birth at home with practically no interventions and only having my midwives there if needed and support. Then I had hoped to just enjoy my newborn right after birth and from there on out until he grew old enough to go off to college or move out. ;) I didn't get this. I know I know I know I should of really prepared myself that not everything is going to go as planned, but really I did do that, but I really didn't imagine what was going to unfold, especially after my son was born. My labour was great, I did so well, but the problems and concerns didn't come up until the very end. My son's heart rate was low for about an hour and even with changing position, myself meditating to try to get that oxygen to him better and get his heart rate up it just was not working out. I ended up on my back so I could get him out ASAP(worst position possible I know, but it was hte only way I could do direct pushing and strong long pushes). I couldn't get him out fast enough so my midwife gave me an episitiomy which I did say it was okay to do if I couldn't get him out fast enough. Episiotomy was done, I pushed another big push and his head popped out and then my midwife helped pull him out by under his arms while I pushed again. They layed him on my chest like I wanted, let the cord stop pulsating before letting my husband cut it and then he was free to nurse. Nursing failed. He could latch, but not suck. He was breathing fast so my midwife suggested we transfer him to the hospital to get him examined and see why he was breathing fast. I forgot to mention but my amniotic fluid towards the end was stained just a little. Wasn't when my waters broke first. Anyways, he was at the hospital with my husband and my one midwife. I couldn't get in, I was too weak, my blood preassure was SO low and my later to my discovery(a day after birth) my iron levels were so low as well. I could barely sit up in bed without becoming dizzy. I was so out of it I had to pee a few times beside my bed in a bowl while my midwife and doula held me. How embarrassing is that?! Eventually they had to leave and my Mother came over as requested by me since I couldn't do anything by myself. She wheeled me to the washroom on my computer chair. I went to the washroom twice, but the second time I ended up passing out. Not fun again and thankfully I was alright. She got me back to bed and I ate something, peanut-butter and jam toast to be exact.
My husband went to bed, I joined him shortly there after and then woke up 4 hours later to pump(I did it twice after my son was transfered to the hospital). I didn't get very much but enough to accumulate with the other bit of colostrum I had pumped before. I was happy I had that to bring to the hospital with us whenever we got a chance to see him. But while I was pumping I ended up breaking down and having a good cry. I worked SO hard for those last 9 months to create, nuture, and care for this tiny, well not so tiny(he was 9lbs 13oz) and his own Mother can't even be by his side. I felt like an utter failure and that's when the guilt started to pour through. I was devistated.
Anyways, we managed to get to the hospital early afternoon finally by the time I was able to feel good enough to walk and make it to the car. but OMG the ride to the hospital was SO SO bad. I could barely sit and it wasn't the fact that I had the episiotomy and a natural tear inside my vagina, but I did something to my tailbone and as of today I am pretty sure I fractured it and it healed bent. I had x-rays done a few months after and it showed it was bent so much to the left. So we arrived and Dustin wheeled me up the the NICU to see him. It was amazing! Seeing my little boy and holding him for the second time was priceless. It didn't seem natural with him with the feeding tube in and all the monitors still stuck on him while I sat in a VERY uncomfortable wheel chair and held the syringe with my colostrum in it, so it would go down his tube so he could eat.
After seeing him again I went and pumped and repeated the same scenerio again and again. I went home that night feeling so empty and raw with emotion. It sucks so much leaving the hospital without your baby. I repeated this day in a day out for a week. Dagney had a few scares(stopped breathing, hole in his heart) and we had some miss treatment from the NICU nurses that was not pleasant. It kind of reminded me why I was not a fan of the hospital environment at all.
So that week was torture, but we finally brought him home and it was crazy! The next 4 months would be a downward spiral of health issues with Dagney, struggling SO SO much with postpartum depression, anxiety, guilt, fear and no one really there to support myself and my husband while we went through so much with our first child. I felt utterly and completely alone, minus having my son and my husband around.
But, I guess the main point of this blog entry is that I get very envious of those that get to keep their baby with them from right after birth and not have such a huge seperation where you can't see them. I struggle with this. It messed up so much with my bond and attachement with my son it's not even funny. I didn't start feeling like he was my own child until he was about 12 months. How sad is that? I just long for that time I missed out on and I know I never will have it ever again with my son and it eats me up inside. I have to let it go though or what kind of life is that. I am not going to forget about it, no way, but I do need to except that's how things went and I had no control over it.
Which brings me to the next topic. I am terrified for my next child's birth. Not the actually labour and pushing a baby out, but afraid I wont be able to keep my child with me like last time. I don't know if I can handle another baby being taken from me and my my roll being stomped on again. I know I will eventually have another child, there is no doubt about that, but I will be terrified and anxious until that day arrives.
I think I am going to keep it at that for now. :) Felt great getting that out in the open.
