Showing posts with label TTC. Show all posts
Showing posts with label TTC. Show all posts
Sunday, March 2, 2014
Tuesday, January 14, 2014
Guest Post: "A Home Birth Worth Waiting For"
Well, where do I start? Let’s see, I have been having “false” or
prodromal labor since 36 ½ weeks. At 36 ½ weeks, my midwife was over and
checked me, to make sure I wasn’t actually in labor, as I would have had
to transfer to a hospital if I was. In Colorado you have to be 37-42
weeks for a midwife attended homebirth. My first edd by LMP was 8-22-11.
BUT I was charting the cycle I conceived, and I KNEW I didn’t O til cd
24, making my EDD 10 days later than that, at 9-1-11. Sure enough, the
ultrasounds matched MY edd, from charting.
I saw my OB from my first two pregnancies to start, I had gotten Hyperemesis AGAIN, and had a PICC line placed, only to have it out 5 days later when it made my Superior Vena Cave swell, and almost killed me-NOT FUN. After that, I got care from a CPM, just for Hyperemesis. She started me on Milk Thistles (not blessed thistle, blessed is FOR milk supply, MILK thistle is for live function) and I was on around 20 carpels a day at first, BUT it took care of things wonderfully. I was not comfortable with a CPM for my birth, as I have MTHFR and it can present more issues than a “normal” person. So I found my CNM, Janet Schwab. Surprisingly, she is NOT very medical, and more natural than MOST of the CPMs I know.
I hired her when I was 14 wks. It would have been sooner, but I interviewed several midwives, and I also was in the hospital in Feb (on Valentine’s Day) for a few days, I had Flu type A, and also Swedish hospital tanked my potassium. I went in for hydration my “K” (potassium) was 3.4 normal is 3.5 and up (don’t remember the upper range) well they pumped me full of 4 bags of just water. NO K in it at all. Surprise surprise when that night I ended up at a different hospital, due to heart issues, only to find out my K was down to a 2.9. They gave me 3 bags of IV K, BURNS LIKE HELL. And sent me home. They next day I saw the OB I was seeing, and we had my labs sent in again, only to have them tell me to get to the hospital I needed to be admitted. I was + for Flu A, and my K was now a 2.7! So I was in for 2 nights, and got around 11 bags of K, plus the 3 from the ER the night before. 14 total bags got me to a 3.7, but hey it was range. The next day I hired Janet. Went to 1 more apt with Dr. B. and fired him.
The rest of my pregnancy was normal for once. I did see my midwife's back up OB, who ironically was my mother OB when she was pregnant with me. He was wonderful, and believed in homebirth, I wonder if his wife being a midwife has anything to do with that lol. I got my anatomy scan, decided to find out what we were having, and it was gonna be our 3rd girl! We were so excited! Familiar territory!
About 36 ½ weeks, I had contractions after going to the zoo. We went to the Zoo about 100 times this summer- can I just say I LOVE the zoo pass-all I ever needed was the gas to get there, and I could walk, as well as make the girls happy all at the same time! The contractions seemed like “business” and I was spotting with them, so I called Janet, who came right over and checked me. I was closed, and there was nothing to worry about. This Contracting and spotting kept up until I reached 40w3d. However, there were 2-3 times, where we thought she was coming before then, only to have me try to sleep and wake up still pregnant.
Sure enough, on Sept 4th, 2011, at 40w3d pregnant, my baby decided she would come out. I woke up around 430 to come contractions, but this had been normal so I blew it off. Woke up to another around 5, another at 530 and it kept up that way until around 8am when I woke up David and we had 1 final round of “fun” to move things along. Let me tell ya, that was all my body needed that day! After I started contracting, but it was different, it was ALL low, before they had been low and high, but these were ALL LOW. And there started out, 5-6 min apart! I called my Midwife, My Doula Jessica, and let my parents know what was going on. Part of me just felt different. David and I took a walk, to where the contractions picked up to 3 min apart, and I could hardly move through them. We called the team back, and everyone was on their way.
This was my first non-induced labor. Azalynn was 35 weeks after 5 wks in the hospital for a montage of issues. Kaydence was 38 ½ wks due to PIH that was turning pre-e. So I had no clue what to expect. My midwife and her assistant got to my house around 1030, my doula around 1130. I got a little panicked, seeing everything being set up, but the ctx were hurting so bad, I got over it pretty fast. Ctx were around 3 min apart, I wasn’t checked, as I said my mw is very non-medical. But after about 2 hours, I asked to be checked. I was only 4 cm, BUT 100% thinned and baby was at a 0 station. I HAD to get in the tub, because I was not dealing with them well at all. Honestly, the pit was about the same as MY own ctx. So really, I don’t buy the “Pit is so much worse” line anymore.
An hour later, I felt a TON of pressure, so I asked to be checked, but I was only a 5, but a +1 station. I was happy cause I made it a whole cm in an hour, oh and she would not have checked me if I didn’t ask. About an hour and a half later, I had a feeling I could no longer do this. I figured I was in transition, then my body started to push on its own, but something didn’t feel right. I asked to be checked again. Turns out I was only 6cm, with a bulging bag. But my body was pushing. I couldn’t help it. I tried millions of positions, the tub, the toilet-other than tub, toilet was the BEST spot. An hour later, same thing, but more intense, guess what? Still 6cm. I was staring to lose it, thinking I needed to transfer because I was worried my cervix was going to swell shut, since I couldn’t stop my body from pushing in the ctx. I just could not help it. I asked, well more like demanded to transfer so I 1 wouldn’t swell shut, 2 to get rid of the pain. I was in a “CANT DO THIS” state of mind for an hour and could not take anymore. My midwife, her assistant, and my doula somehow convinced me to go for a walk outside with my husband. I had 3 ctx just between the front door and the end of our property; I turned around said “I WANT TO GO NOW” and headed back to the house to get ready to go to the hospital.
I had 1 more ctx on the way to the door, and one more right when we got inside, the one inside is when I finally gave up and gave in. I was standing in front of the swamp cooler (god that was a nice feeling) and I told David I was sorry for wasting $4,000. I made it down stairs to the toilet again, where I felt I really had to poop. Thinking too bad I do need to poop and I know it’s not the baby, seeing as I was 6cm 15 min before. My midwife came in to see how I felt after the walk, I told her I give up, I’m ready to transfer, this could be hours more. I asked her to check me one more time, and then we could go. In my mind I said “if I’m at least an 8 I won’t go” so I got to the bed, had another ctx-a WHOPPING one. That lasted 2 min long. Then I laid down on the bed for her to check me. With the most shocked look on her face, she said “you can push if you want” all I could do is say “REALLY????” I must have asked if she was sure about 10 times. My doula said the look on my face was priceless. I did have a small right anterior lip, just like with Kaydence. I hopped up, and hopped into the tub, I had a ctx as I was going from the bed to the tub, but I just wanted in the dam tub!!!! I debated just diving in instead of climbing in lol.
Once I was in the tub, things spaced way out. We tried different positions, to get the bit of cervical lip gone, none were working, but ctx were so spaced out at that point, I just was happy I had rest time. When I had one, I tried pushing, it hurt, so I stopped which hurt more, so I tried again. I told the mw I thought I brought her down a bit again, and asked her to check and see, I had, but the lip was holding her back a bit, my mw offered to hold it out of the way, and I said “YES PLEASE!” so next ctx when I started to push I told her, and she held it back, then things really got insane pain wise. I just wanted her out. I took her from at the lip, (so a +2 station) to crowning in 1 huge push. OMG it hurt to have her sit there. They told me to reach down and touch her head, I did, the bag was still intact at that point! It was awesome to feel. Next ctx my waters broke, which I didn’t feel at all because I was in the water, but then it hurt even worse. I actually screamed “JUST PULL HER OUT!!!!” to the midwives, but she wasn’t even out yet lol. I gave one more push; I didn’t want to wait for a ctx, period. So I just pushed, I could feel myself stretching, and feel her trying to come out, I was screaming one of the “EGHHHHHHHH” screams, and everyone in unison told me to breath, I took 1 huge breath and went at pushing with everything I had again, my hand still on her head! And then her head just popped out! I didn’t want to stop, it still hurt bad. So I pushed again, and felt her rotate (k that was kinda cool) and then she was out. Next thing I know there is a splash and my baby is being handed to me. The position I was in was kinda half on my right side, right leg somewhat folded up under me, left leg digging into the bottom of the pool hard. Wednesday Sky was earthside at 413pm, 13” head, with a nuchal hand. BEST LOOKING cord out of any of my kids (can we say proper nutrition?) her placenta was somewhat of a heart shape too-awesome!
I got out of the tub about 15 min later, after sitting there in awe amazed I did it, and even more amazed that *I* did it. I went into labor on my own, my child picked her birthday, I dealt with the pain, even if I did beg/demand to transfer at one point, I did it at home in the water!!!! Just like I WANTED too. Her APGAR’s were a 9 and 10. Just for the record, a 10 in Colorado, is HARD to get. But yes she was a 9 at 1 min, and a 10 at 5 min. We got me out of the tub to deliver the placenta, on the birth stool. It came right out. Easy with a plop!
Then I got in bed, where I ate a grilled cheese, and snuggled and nursed my baby. It was about 50 min from birth til when she latched, but she was happy and not interested sooner. Then we worked on looking at me, sure enough, 2 tears, SAME spots as Azalynn and Kaydence. Labial, so OUCH for peeing lol. But they already feel better. Hardly any swelling, it’s great! We did her exam, she checked out as a 40 wker! So perfect for dates, and then we measured her, 6 lbs 14 oz, and 18 ½ inches long. Not a long as Kaydence, longer than Azalynn, but the heaviest of all, and largest head of all.
Wednesday did get a vit K shot, because I have to take Aspirin for MTHFR, so I’m in a higher risk group for a VKDB (Vit K Deficiency Bleed) baby, so for me it was the right choice for the baby. Oral vit K isn’t really studied, the doses are always changing, and it screws up a virgin gut right off the bat, so we did the injection- ALL babies are born Vit k deficient, the difference is if you’re on certain meds, the risk of a bleed happening is higher.
Getting the pool emptied was an adventure. My dad’s drill pump broke, but he decided to go get a submersion pump for us (THANK YOU DADDY!) and David held it in place for almost 2 hours emptying the pool. Once it was low enough to move, the carried it outside and dumped the rest in the garden. I got my post-partum sitz bath, the herbs are really helping the tears. It’s amazing!-OH and a bit of wonderful advice I got, DEPENDS- So much better than pads and panties lol.
I forgot to add, the girls and my parents came down just minutes after she was earthside, so they got to meet her while I was still in the pool. The girls were so excited. I hope it made a permanent imprint on what normal birth is- and yes I’m glad they were not there when I was pushing her out, they could not have dealt with that at all.
I am so thankful for my wonderful birth team. Jessica, Janet and Bergen, They really held me together when I hit my wall, and I’m even more grateful for how wonderful David was through it all. He really was my rock.
Story reposted with permission of original author, Felicia. Felicia is a size -friendly doula located in Colorado, please check out her business site to contact her and have her attend your birth!
I saw my OB from my first two pregnancies to start, I had gotten Hyperemesis AGAIN, and had a PICC line placed, only to have it out 5 days later when it made my Superior Vena Cave swell, and almost killed me-NOT FUN. After that, I got care from a CPM, just for Hyperemesis. She started me on Milk Thistles (not blessed thistle, blessed is FOR milk supply, MILK thistle is for live function) and I was on around 20 carpels a day at first, BUT it took care of things wonderfully. I was not comfortable with a CPM for my birth, as I have MTHFR and it can present more issues than a “normal” person. So I found my CNM, Janet Schwab. Surprisingly, she is NOT very medical, and more natural than MOST of the CPMs I know.
I hired her when I was 14 wks. It would have been sooner, but I interviewed several midwives, and I also was in the hospital in Feb (on Valentine’s Day) for a few days, I had Flu type A, and also Swedish hospital tanked my potassium. I went in for hydration my “K” (potassium) was 3.4 normal is 3.5 and up (don’t remember the upper range) well they pumped me full of 4 bags of just water. NO K in it at all. Surprise surprise when that night I ended up at a different hospital, due to heart issues, only to find out my K was down to a 2.9. They gave me 3 bags of IV K, BURNS LIKE HELL. And sent me home. They next day I saw the OB I was seeing, and we had my labs sent in again, only to have them tell me to get to the hospital I needed to be admitted. I was + for Flu A, and my K was now a 2.7! So I was in for 2 nights, and got around 11 bags of K, plus the 3 from the ER the night before. 14 total bags got me to a 3.7, but hey it was range. The next day I hired Janet. Went to 1 more apt with Dr. B. and fired him.
The rest of my pregnancy was normal for once. I did see my midwife's back up OB, who ironically was my mother OB when she was pregnant with me. He was wonderful, and believed in homebirth, I wonder if his wife being a midwife has anything to do with that lol. I got my anatomy scan, decided to find out what we were having, and it was gonna be our 3rd girl! We were so excited! Familiar territory!
About 36 ½ weeks, I had contractions after going to the zoo. We went to the Zoo about 100 times this summer- can I just say I LOVE the zoo pass-all I ever needed was the gas to get there, and I could walk, as well as make the girls happy all at the same time! The contractions seemed like “business” and I was spotting with them, so I called Janet, who came right over and checked me. I was closed, and there was nothing to worry about. This Contracting and spotting kept up until I reached 40w3d. However, there were 2-3 times, where we thought she was coming before then, only to have me try to sleep and wake up still pregnant.
Sure enough, on Sept 4th, 2011, at 40w3d pregnant, my baby decided she would come out. I woke up around 430 to come contractions, but this had been normal so I blew it off. Woke up to another around 5, another at 530 and it kept up that way until around 8am when I woke up David and we had 1 final round of “fun” to move things along. Let me tell ya, that was all my body needed that day! After I started contracting, but it was different, it was ALL low, before they had been low and high, but these were ALL LOW. And there started out, 5-6 min apart! I called my Midwife, My Doula Jessica, and let my parents know what was going on. Part of me just felt different. David and I took a walk, to where the contractions picked up to 3 min apart, and I could hardly move through them. We called the team back, and everyone was on their way.
This was my first non-induced labor. Azalynn was 35 weeks after 5 wks in the hospital for a montage of issues. Kaydence was 38 ½ wks due to PIH that was turning pre-e. So I had no clue what to expect. My midwife and her assistant got to my house around 1030, my doula around 1130. I got a little panicked, seeing everything being set up, but the ctx were hurting so bad, I got over it pretty fast. Ctx were around 3 min apart, I wasn’t checked, as I said my mw is very non-medical. But after about 2 hours, I asked to be checked. I was only 4 cm, BUT 100% thinned and baby was at a 0 station. I HAD to get in the tub, because I was not dealing with them well at all. Honestly, the pit was about the same as MY own ctx. So really, I don’t buy the “Pit is so much worse” line anymore.
An hour later, I felt a TON of pressure, so I asked to be checked, but I was only a 5, but a +1 station. I was happy cause I made it a whole cm in an hour, oh and she would not have checked me if I didn’t ask. About an hour and a half later, I had a feeling I could no longer do this. I figured I was in transition, then my body started to push on its own, but something didn’t feel right. I asked to be checked again. Turns out I was only 6cm, with a bulging bag. But my body was pushing. I couldn’t help it. I tried millions of positions, the tub, the toilet-other than tub, toilet was the BEST spot. An hour later, same thing, but more intense, guess what? Still 6cm. I was staring to lose it, thinking I needed to transfer because I was worried my cervix was going to swell shut, since I couldn’t stop my body from pushing in the ctx. I just could not help it. I asked, well more like demanded to transfer so I 1 wouldn’t swell shut, 2 to get rid of the pain. I was in a “CANT DO THIS” state of mind for an hour and could not take anymore. My midwife, her assistant, and my doula somehow convinced me to go for a walk outside with my husband. I had 3 ctx just between the front door and the end of our property; I turned around said “I WANT TO GO NOW” and headed back to the house to get ready to go to the hospital.
I had 1 more ctx on the way to the door, and one more right when we got inside, the one inside is when I finally gave up and gave in. I was standing in front of the swamp cooler (god that was a nice feeling) and I told David I was sorry for wasting $4,000. I made it down stairs to the toilet again, where I felt I really had to poop. Thinking too bad I do need to poop and I know it’s not the baby, seeing as I was 6cm 15 min before. My midwife came in to see how I felt after the walk, I told her I give up, I’m ready to transfer, this could be hours more. I asked her to check me one more time, and then we could go. In my mind I said “if I’m at least an 8 I won’t go” so I got to the bed, had another ctx-a WHOPPING one. That lasted 2 min long. Then I laid down on the bed for her to check me. With the most shocked look on her face, she said “you can push if you want” all I could do is say “REALLY????” I must have asked if she was sure about 10 times. My doula said the look on my face was priceless. I did have a small right anterior lip, just like with Kaydence. I hopped up, and hopped into the tub, I had a ctx as I was going from the bed to the tub, but I just wanted in the dam tub!!!! I debated just diving in instead of climbing in lol.
Once I was in the tub, things spaced way out. We tried different positions, to get the bit of cervical lip gone, none were working, but ctx were so spaced out at that point, I just was happy I had rest time. When I had one, I tried pushing, it hurt, so I stopped which hurt more, so I tried again. I told the mw I thought I brought her down a bit again, and asked her to check and see, I had, but the lip was holding her back a bit, my mw offered to hold it out of the way, and I said “YES PLEASE!” so next ctx when I started to push I told her, and she held it back, then things really got insane pain wise. I just wanted her out. I took her from at the lip, (so a +2 station) to crowning in 1 huge push. OMG it hurt to have her sit there. They told me to reach down and touch her head, I did, the bag was still intact at that point! It was awesome to feel. Next ctx my waters broke, which I didn’t feel at all because I was in the water, but then it hurt even worse. I actually screamed “JUST PULL HER OUT!!!!” to the midwives, but she wasn’t even out yet lol. I gave one more push; I didn’t want to wait for a ctx, period. So I just pushed, I could feel myself stretching, and feel her trying to come out, I was screaming one of the “EGHHHHHHHH” screams, and everyone in unison told me to breath, I took 1 huge breath and went at pushing with everything I had again, my hand still on her head! And then her head just popped out! I didn’t want to stop, it still hurt bad. So I pushed again, and felt her rotate (k that was kinda cool) and then she was out. Next thing I know there is a splash and my baby is being handed to me. The position I was in was kinda half on my right side, right leg somewhat folded up under me, left leg digging into the bottom of the pool hard. Wednesday Sky was earthside at 413pm, 13” head, with a nuchal hand. BEST LOOKING cord out of any of my kids (can we say proper nutrition?) her placenta was somewhat of a heart shape too-awesome!
I got out of the tub about 15 min later, after sitting there in awe amazed I did it, and even more amazed that *I* did it. I went into labor on my own, my child picked her birthday, I dealt with the pain, even if I did beg/demand to transfer at one point, I did it at home in the water!!!! Just like I WANTED too. Her APGAR’s were a 9 and 10. Just for the record, a 10 in Colorado, is HARD to get. But yes she was a 9 at 1 min, and a 10 at 5 min. We got me out of the tub to deliver the placenta, on the birth stool. It came right out. Easy with a plop!
Then I got in bed, where I ate a grilled cheese, and snuggled and nursed my baby. It was about 50 min from birth til when she latched, but she was happy and not interested sooner. Then we worked on looking at me, sure enough, 2 tears, SAME spots as Azalynn and Kaydence. Labial, so OUCH for peeing lol. But they already feel better. Hardly any swelling, it’s great! We did her exam, she checked out as a 40 wker! So perfect for dates, and then we measured her, 6 lbs 14 oz, and 18 ½ inches long. Not a long as Kaydence, longer than Azalynn, but the heaviest of all, and largest head of all.
Wednesday did get a vit K shot, because I have to take Aspirin for MTHFR, so I’m in a higher risk group for a VKDB (Vit K Deficiency Bleed) baby, so for me it was the right choice for the baby. Oral vit K isn’t really studied, the doses are always changing, and it screws up a virgin gut right off the bat, so we did the injection- ALL babies are born Vit k deficient, the difference is if you’re on certain meds, the risk of a bleed happening is higher.
Getting the pool emptied was an adventure. My dad’s drill pump broke, but he decided to go get a submersion pump for us (THANK YOU DADDY!) and David held it in place for almost 2 hours emptying the pool. Once it was low enough to move, the carried it outside and dumped the rest in the garden. I got my post-partum sitz bath, the herbs are really helping the tears. It’s amazing!-OH and a bit of wonderful advice I got, DEPENDS- So much better than pads and panties lol.
I forgot to add, the girls and my parents came down just minutes after she was earthside, so they got to meet her while I was still in the pool. The girls were so excited. I hope it made a permanent imprint on what normal birth is- and yes I’m glad they were not there when I was pushing her out, they could not have dealt with that at all.
I am so thankful for my wonderful birth team. Jessica, Janet and Bergen, They really held me together when I hit my wall, and I’m even more grateful for how wonderful David was through it all. He really was my rock.
Story reposted with permission of original author, Felicia. Felicia is a size -friendly doula located in Colorado, please check out her business site to contact her and have her attend your birth!
Thursday, December 26, 2013
Guest Post: "Baby After Bypass"
So
I was fat. I still am fat (not that there's anything wrong with that!),
but I was REALLY fat when I was little. I was born and raised in Jersey
and I have a stubborn German for a father and a pile of moosh n' love
for a mother. I heard a lot of crap from my dad about being heavy. "Put
the food down." "You'll die big you know." "Try to lose weight so you
can play with your friends..." I don't ever think he meant anything bad
by it, but it really took a toll. And as for my mom: "lets go get ice
cream so you won't be sad anymore.." (you can see how this snowballs,
right?)
When I entered high school I had already had years of bullying. As if being big wasn't enough, I had pimples, I wore glasses, and I had super short hair. I was a target for sure. But as I went to doctors for check ups, we realized one thing: weighing 380 pounds when you were 15 years old was pretty darn unhealthy. It was literally killing me and I was scared.
Around this time gastric bypass was pretty knew, but something drastic needed done. I had all the visits and analyzing one could ever want, and I was in. I was going to get the Roux-En-Y gastric bypass procedure on December 13th, 2002. I went under the knife and came out alive. AND SUPER GASSY! In one week I lost 36 pounds. In one month I lost 90. In 6 months I lost 200 pounds. I could finally walk up the stairs and not be in pain and out of breath. My life had changed for the better.
I did have some complications but they were minor. I still have skin, 10 years later, that I'd like gone, but I'm married now and my husband loves me for what I am and he thinks I'm sexy. (I met my husband on match.com and said hello because I thought his beard was AWESOME. It was love at first beard )
My husband and I said we wanted a family and we started TTC in january of 2012. Frustrated 3 months later we were told to relax and grab some champagne. We did...and voila! Pregnant! I had some concerns having had the surgery and being pregnant. Also, trying to conceive wasnt difficult and it was fun my husband is big too so our positions are limited but our energy never is! We wanted a baby so bad so we tried all the time. The surgery had no impact on our ability to conceive.
I asked all the doctors if I was safe and how to get my calories in. NOTHING that went in my mouth could be crap calories. Everything I ate had to be good for me and for baby. So that's what I did.
Everything I had was high in protein and I ate many small meals through the day. I drank protein too, tried to cut back on coffee (so hard!), and tried not to head to fast food too often. I did have my fair share of ice cream and pickles for sure, but I did crave healthy things too which helped a lot. I had a complication free pregnancy: no gestational diabetes, no problems whatsoever. I kept myself in check and made sure to do things right. This baby was too important to my husband and I.
In February I gave birth to a chubby 7 pound 13 ounce boy: Edward Remy. I was in labor for 2 hours before fully dilated, and pushed for 18 minutes until he came into this world. He truly is the most amazing thing. My husband and I can't wait to have another!
The gastric bypass was harder to deal with when it was initially done. I was young and didn't follow "the rules" like I should have, but I managed to keep the weight down (although I gained back a little bit). Once I got pregnant I didn't want anything to damage my tummy or my baby, so I kept in close contact with the gastric doctors and they helped me a lot. I would do BOTH of these things again if given the chance. I've never looked back!
This story was shared by Molly, momma of one from Levittown, PA. Molly is the owner of MollyCakes Bakery, find out more about her awesome cakes here.
When I entered high school I had already had years of bullying. As if being big wasn't enough, I had pimples, I wore glasses, and I had super short hair. I was a target for sure. But as I went to doctors for check ups, we realized one thing: weighing 380 pounds when you were 15 years old was pretty darn unhealthy. It was literally killing me and I was scared.
Around this time gastric bypass was pretty knew, but something drastic needed done. I had all the visits and analyzing one could ever want, and I was in. I was going to get the Roux-En-Y gastric bypass procedure on December 13th, 2002. I went under the knife and came out alive. AND SUPER GASSY! In one week I lost 36 pounds. In one month I lost 90. In 6 months I lost 200 pounds. I could finally walk up the stairs and not be in pain and out of breath. My life had changed for the better.
I did have some complications but they were minor. I still have skin, 10 years later, that I'd like gone, but I'm married now and my husband loves me for what I am and he thinks I'm sexy. (I met my husband on match.com and said hello because I thought his beard was AWESOME. It was love at first beard )
My husband and I said we wanted a family and we started TTC in january of 2012. Frustrated 3 months later we were told to relax and grab some champagne. We did...and voila! Pregnant! I had some concerns having had the surgery and being pregnant. Also, trying to conceive wasnt difficult and it was fun my husband is big too so our positions are limited but our energy never is! We wanted a baby so bad so we tried all the time. The surgery had no impact on our ability to conceive.
I asked all the doctors if I was safe and how to get my calories in. NOTHING that went in my mouth could be crap calories. Everything I ate had to be good for me and for baby. So that's what I did.
Everything I had was high in protein and I ate many small meals through the day. I drank protein too, tried to cut back on coffee (so hard!), and tried not to head to fast food too often. I did have my fair share of ice cream and pickles for sure, but I did crave healthy things too which helped a lot. I had a complication free pregnancy: no gestational diabetes, no problems whatsoever. I kept myself in check and made sure to do things right. This baby was too important to my husband and I.
In February I gave birth to a chubby 7 pound 13 ounce boy: Edward Remy. I was in labor for 2 hours before fully dilated, and pushed for 18 minutes until he came into this world. He truly is the most amazing thing. My husband and I can't wait to have another!
The gastric bypass was harder to deal with when it was initially done. I was young and didn't follow "the rules" like I should have, but I managed to keep the weight down (although I gained back a little bit). Once I got pregnant I didn't want anything to damage my tummy or my baby, so I kept in close contact with the gastric doctors and they helped me a lot. I would do BOTH of these things again if given the chance. I've never looked back!
This story was shared by Molly, momma of one from Levittown, PA. Molly is the owner of MollyCakes Bakery, find out more about her awesome cakes here.
Friday, December 20, 2013
Guest Post: “It was the worst of times…. Another infertility story”
There is a deep feeling of pain every month, one you hopefully will not become used to. But for many of us, it’s all to familiar a feeling: you got your period this month, again.
We had hit the 18 month mark before I had to stop counting. For the first few months, aunt flow came with all my familiar cramps and pains, and I would smile through the rest of the week with shrug: it was healthy not to get pregnant right away. Then the second half of that next year, I would get a little more down trodden, but I had nowhere to turn. By the end of the first year, I was a mess every month when the “crimson tide” started, because I knew it meant one thing…Not pregnant yet.
I didn’t have a lot of support. My family thought I was too young to start a family: every time it came up, the infamous “I’m too young to be a grandma” would rear its head, and I would just smile and nod, pretending that I wasn’t doing everything I could to get knocked up. My husband didn’t truly understand my anguish, because as a man you just don’t worry about these kinds of things. My girlfriends all had different agendas, finishing school and finding careers. My first doctor shrugged me off as a fat, young girl that needed to hold her horses. At 23, I was hit with this feeling that I would not ever get the family I had dreamed of as a kid.
I watched friend after friend post new baby updates, and with each one, I found the “hide” setting. I wanted to be happy for them, but I couldn’t be happy. My husband’s close friend from work had a new baby boy, and I broke down in our bedroom before going to see them, while he watched not sure what to say. A cousin in the family got pregnant: no job, not married, not readily paying her bills and moved back home with her mom shortly after finding out she was pregnant- and hasn’t left- and it was all on accident. Barely out of high school, she couldn’t take care of herself, much less the dead-beat father she was trying to support and a new baby. But she was given the greatest miracle in the world, to be a mom, and I was a bitter because I wanted it to be me!
It broke my heart. I cried myself to sleep. I laid awake guilt ridden at all hours of the night. I kept a journal about how unfair it all was, and how broken I felt. No matter how much I tried, or how much I wanted to get pregnant, my body just wouldn’t. I watched the months tick by, and knew that all these “delays” were adding up. It would make the difference between my husband’s Grandmother meeting our daughter –he was her favorite grandson- because her health did not allow her to stay with us that long. I blamed myself a lot, and brought myself down. I let myself hit the lowest of lows, truly believed that this was just not going to happen for us. In order to write this post, I went back through those old journals, and it made my heart hurt all over again.
I have mild PCOS: the cysts on my ovaries were not very large, and the extra chemical progesterone was only mildly over what it should have been. We had my thyroid tested, and all came back clear. I could grow facial hair like my husband, and had gained weight over the years that I really didn’t link up with the PCOS until now. I was one of the lucky ones, where in a 12 month span, I would only skip a period 2 or 3 times because I hadn’t ovulated that month. My first doctor did not run additional tests at all, other than the basic ultrasound, and left me with the diagnosis to see her again in a year and lose weight. Notice how I said first… if you don’t like or agree with your doctor now, do you think you will later, when you do get pregnant? Ditch any negative nancies now, and find a new OB/GYN that is willing to help!
After the close to two years of trying of trying, I really stopped counting. I looked up adoption, starting writing up a biography about us, and started looking up what kind of fees I would need to pay, and how I was going to save up for them. I forced my husband to see his doctor –and let me remind every one of you beautiful, hurting ladies: it takes two to tango here! His test results were similar to mine: again, we were sent away with a diagnosis of lose weight, try harder, and then it’ll work. I then turned into some sort of monster: I blamed him for not taking his vitamins, drinking one more soda than he should have, putting his left shoe on before his right… Things that were totally unrelated became a bullet point on my vendetta list. I went from sobbing emotional sad-sack to bitter bitch-zilla in a 10 minute span (influenced mildly by Clomid) and I was not fun to be around, even to myself, I would realize later.
I won’t sit here and tell you what the magic trick is to being okay with not being okay. Take a moment to yourself, don’t just pretend and smile through the day. There are days you are going to need to cry it all out, nights you just need loud music, or a quiet hot bath. It gets much harder before it will ever be easier, but it does make victory so much sweeter. Here’s the thing: you can throw as much as you want into your fertility, but there’s never a guarantee that it’ll be enough. Take each month in stride, make positive changes, and do what you can to help yourself.
I’m no expert, but I do have some experience in the area. If your doctor is unwilling to help you, there are a lot of things you can do to help yourself. Start by knowing as much as you can about fertility: learn how to track your cycles, find those ‘super foods’ the internet talks about, cut out the bad things from your life, like smoking, before you begin to try. My favorite book was “The Impatient Woman's Guide to Getting Pregnant” by Heidi Murkoff. I read it three times through or more. There’s certainly a lot to learn, and a lot to change. Because it takes two, you also want to help your partner make changes too: quitting smoking, reducing alcohol and coffee intake, even switching to different underwear. I highly suggest you both take a prenatal vitamin: part of this suggestion though, I would use an empty bottle of vitamin whatever and fill it with prenatals, if your partner isn’t as on board as you are. Folic acid for him is equally as good as it is for you! Sperm is, however, made in advance, so what you are using today was actually “created” 3 months prior. Changes on your partners side will take effect 2 to 3 months later.
Use the time you have before being pregnant to do things you wanted to learn to do: I am thankful I had a chance to learn to crochet before we had baby-on-board. I got a second dog, and trained him before we got pregnant (another blessing in so many ways!). I could financially prepare for what we were going to need, and the delay was a good thing, that allowed my husband to change jobs to something more reliable, with a higher wage which was nice too. Maybe it’s a trip to Hawaii you’ve always been dreaming of, or learning professional photography. Keep your partners feelings in mind too: maybe there’s something he would like to do before baby too, and squeeze these simple pleasures and new hobbies in beforehand. For secondary infertility, enjoy your first child just a little longer. Make a few fun outings that you don’t normally, like a road trip to the beach, and just enjoy their excitement. Soon, you’ll have to try to find time for two, and you’ll miss these days.
In the end, do what makes sense to you. Your mind knows what it wants. If you just need to rant, or cry, or hit something, find a constructive way to do it! You are doing all you can, and good things really do take time. Surround yourself with people you can talk to, doctors whom you trust and respect their advice, and who are there to help you through your struggle, not just shrug you off with a “lose weight” or “get older” verdict. There is no magic trick to getting pregnant, no wonderful pill you can take and make it easier. Anyone who has never had trouble getting pregnant has no idea what it feels like, and they give bad advice –take it with a grain of salt. Talk about it, even if it’s just to a word document on your computer, or a notebook at home, and let go of all your frustrations and unwind! You are not ever, ever alone in this journey!
So, my last piece of advice. Go into the bathroom, look at yourself in the mirror. Tell yourself that “We are going to do this!”. Repeat every day. You really are going to be able to do this, in your body’s own time. And, that feeling every month? It makes it totally worth it in the end!
Amanda P. is a soon-to-be mom from Arizona. She works at an airline call center and also has a website that you can check out here. Sending Amanda lots of well wishes, as she is due to give birth February 2014!
Friday, October 4, 2013
Guest Post: "Laila's Story"
For months I have gone back and forth about writing this... but I would like to go ahead and document it, at least for my daughter to read when she gets a bit older.
When I was younger, I was told that I would never be able to have children due to PCOS. I accepted my fate and kept my head held high. I would adopt. One way or another, I would be a mommy to someone someday.
I met my best friend turned husband in 2007. When we were married in 2009, we decided we definitely wanted children. I told him they may not be biological if we were to have children and his views on adoption/foster parenting matched mine. We began making about a 45 minute drive each weekend for our foster parenting classes. We were midway through the classes and we were informed that the demand for younger children and infants was high, so we would more than likely never have a child under the age of 16 in our home. We have nothing against teenagers, but we were looking to be able to instill good values and eventually adopt the child we were raising. We had just been teenagers not all that long ago and we knew what the job entailed. Lots of angst, rebellion, and heartbreak is generally what surrounds the teenage years. This isn’t true for all children, but we learned that teenagers in foster homes were more likely to rebel than your average teenager. We discontinued our classes.
We began charting ovulation and I began my monthly blood tests to check for pregnancy. After more and more attempts, and even more failed pregnancy tests, we decided it wasn’t meant to be. Several of my friends at work had become pregnant, and all I could think of was “Why not us?” It was hard. It was 2011 and we decided we were just going to chill out on the “trying to get pregnant” process. Finally have some us time.
ENTER April 2011. This month was not a particularly hot month, but for some reason, I had been waking up at all hours of the night in hot and cold sweats. I hadn’t missed my period or anything like that, in fact I had just gotten off of it. It had to be my hormones I thought. The week of the 28th, I scheduled an appointment to have a blood test to check my thyroid. I had been feeling ill all week. I was definitely getting sick I thought. At my appointment, she asked if we had still been trying, “On and Off” I answered. She told me I should try and take a pregnancy test as well, just to make sure. I dreaded it. The heartbreak that followed every time I took a test in that office and it came back negative... “Here we go again”, I thought. As I sat and waited for the test to turn, she prepared the needle for the blood test. “OH MY GOD IT’S POSITIVE!!!!!” she yelled. I calmly looked over and asked “What?” “THE TEST!!!!! YOU’RE GOING TO BE A MOMMA!!!!!!” I began shaking. It had to be wrong. I requested another test. She informed me that the medical grade tests were 98% accurate. I was in disbelief. I took another test “POSITIVE!!!!!” she screamed again. I still said no. I requested the blood test. Those tests are 100%. I was shaking.
I left work early that day; it was my husband’s day off. I had bought a card a long time ago that I had intended to give him when I found out we were pregnant. It said: Get ready for the pickles and ice cream! We’re pregnant! When I got home Jeff was concerned. I told him that I would be right back. I went to the closet, got the card and the 2 stick tests, and wrote my heart out about he was going to be a daddy. I placed the sticks inside and sealed the envelope. I placed the letter directly into his hands. He wanted to know what it was... He shook it and tried to see through it. He had no clue. He opened it and looked right at the tests. “Whose are these? “He said. “Read the letter!!!”. He read it and stood in shock. He turned to me, searching my face to see if I was about to yell JUST KIDDING!!...and I grinned from ear to ear. He gave me one of the biggest hugs I think I have ever had. In fact, he started cutting off my air supply at one point. He wouldn’t let go. “LET GO!!!!!!!” I yelled. When we pulled away he just continuously asked me if it was real. Over and over again. I told him the tests were 98% accurate and that the blood test would be back tomorrow to let us know 100%. That night we went through one of the largest hail producing storms Tennessee has ever seen. My car was totaled. Thank God for full coverage insurance!! Haha. The next day the test came back positive!!!! An ultrasound followed and we found out I was 6wks along.
The months flew by. The morning sickness finally trailed off. I loved being pregnant. I was going to have a natural, drug free birth. After watching countless documentaries and reading horror stories about hospital births, we found a midwife and quickly learned my insurance doesn’t even touch midwifery services. We decided at the recommendation of a friend, on a local Obgyn. I would still have the natural birth, but I would simply deliver at the hospital….right? Throughout my pregnancy, EVERYONE told us we were definitely having a boy. The day we were to find the sex, Jeff asked me what I felt in my heart it would be. I said “I think it’s going to be a girl.” BINGO! Jeff’s heart grew 100 times larger that day. A daddy’s girl. He was ecstatic. So was I. I wore pink to work the next day to announce to everyone. We would name her Laila. (Like the Eric Clapton song, but spelled different)
The day was fast approaching. I was huge, and I loved it. I was getting foot and back rubs every night (which is still continuing to this day. Lol...) I was finally on maternity leave. This was the life. But it wasn’t. We wanted our little girl. We walked as much as we could, trying to get labor to start. My due Date was Dec 25th. Our doctor kept throwing induction around, but we declined. She would come when she was ready. Laila was a very busy baby while in the womb. She constantly hiccupped and kicked around.
On the evening of January 3rd, I was sitting at the computer at home, playing an old Sims game, and I felt a pop. Then came the small flood. My water had broken…on its own. YAY!!! I calmly texted Jeff to call me. He called and wanted to know what was up. I told him my water had broken and he needed to come home. I didn’t tell him that when my water had broken that it had a green tint to it, meaning that Laila, being an overdue baby, had her first bowel movement in the womb. Which is a normal thing for babies that are past due, but it makes things a bit trickier because infection can set in quickly. I didn’t want to tell Jeff because he tends to drive a bit too quickly when there’s an emergency. I hopped in the shower, and started to pack. When Jeff arrived, I told him about the fluid, and I moved/ waddled faster than I had in months. Haha!
I had been very adamant about having my female doctor deliver Laila (I think it’s a bit odd when men go into the obgyn practice. Just sayin’); however, she was not on call that night. It was the only male dr in the practice that happened to be on call. Oh well. They got me hooked up to the monitors and I began the journey into labor. The contractions were hell. With no pain medicine, it was by far the worst pain of my life. It was 9 pm. I had read that first babies take a lot longer to be born. Oh my gosh. I labored in bed, on the ball, in the bathroom in the hall. I started shaking, which was completely normal the dr assured me. I was freezing. I started convulsing a bit. Laila’s heart rate was high, and it would not go down. A team of nurses rushed in, and the next few hours were a blur to me. I had about 10 blankets on me and they had begun to give me oxygen. They wanted to give me Pitocin to make my labor speed up. I declined. My actual dr. finally arrived and checked me. I was at 6 centimeters. But then she checked my temperature. It was 103.5 and rising. The baby’s heart rate was too. Emergency C-section she said. I asked what my other options were; she said there are no other options. She said I could either be put to sleep, or take the epidural and be awake to hear her first cries.
The nurse called for the anesthesiologist. A boy, a bit younger than me, arrived to the room. HE was the anesthesiologist….the student anesthesiologist. The senior tech was already in surgery with another patient. I asked the boy how many epidurals he had done. “Enough.” He answered as he looked down at the floor. I turned my back and sat as he pushed and poked, meanwhile having the worst contractions ever. He found the spot…and he messed up. He put it in crooked and it numbed one of my legs. I was still feeling everything. He wanted to try again. He removed the needle and replaced it. Nothing. Finally the dr arrived and said they would get the senior tech to do it, but there was no time left, I needed to get in the operating room ASAP. Poor Jeff was a nervous wreck the entire time. He tried massaging me, I didn’t want to be touched... I didn’t want to talk. I felt like I failed my baby. But I know it wasn’t my fault... sometimes, in these situations, you don’t have proper thought process. They rushed me into the room, and the senior tech once again tried the epidural. Nothing...again. One leg was numb, and they had given me so many epidurals at this point, the left side of my body was numb, and my face was drooping, similar to that of a stroke victim. I was pitiful. FINALLY they did a spinal tap on me and got me to go numb from the waist down.
They finally brought Jeff in (while they were cutting and removing organs I might add). We sat behind a big blue curtain waiting. They informed me that because of the stress she had gone through and the meconium that was in the amniotic fluid, that she would be rushed off to the NICU unit to be tested for infection. We continued to wait for what seemed like a century and then we heard it. The most beautiful cry ever. I hate that she was torn from me violently under bright lights and didn’t get to come on her own terms. Her daddy didn’t get to catch her or cut the cord. But she got here safely either way. Jeff went around and got to her hold her first. Then they brought her around to me after getting her all cleaned up. She was amazing. She had stopped crying by the time the brought her around. They laid her across my chest and she just stared at me. Jeff and I both cried as we held that scrunched up little baby.
Then they took her away.
They wheeled me into recovery. I was refusing pain meds, but I could barely breath it was so severe. My dr advised me to take half a Percocet and some ibuprofen. I felt better. My legs were still numb, and the feeling would not return for 2 days. It would be 6 hours before I could see my baby. I was advised to recover the rest of the night, as they discovered I had an infection in my blood from the fluid. They kept me on antibiotics. Although Laila didn’t show signs of infection, they wanted to make sure. They told me they would be keeping her in the NICU for 7 days for back to back antibiotic treatments. When I went to go see my baby, she had holes in her little bruised hands; she had holes in her tiny little feet, and an I.V in the top of her head. But she looked at me with such wonderment. I began skin on skin contact right away. My milk came in that night and she fed perfectly. Thank God for that. I wanted to feed her on demand, so they paged me every time she was hungry. Every 2 hours. The nurses all gave me kudos for being such a good mommy, even though I was still losing a lot of blood, I went to her every time they called. And I went to her even when they didn’t call. I was in love. Jeff constantly stayed with the both of us. Taking time with me, going to see her. He didn’t get any sleep. I love that man.
When they informed us that they were discharging us, we found out through my dr that we could do something called in-rooming with Laila. She would be hooked up to monitors in the room and we would be allowed to stay there with her. The room had a bed that was as hard as a rock. And being a vegetarian at the time, they didn’t understand that I didn’t eat meat. They constantly brought steak and chicken. How annoying.
No one could give us a straight answer on when she would be discharged. But finally, after 7 days, the dr came in and said she had passed her tests and we would be discharged. I immediately began packing. They came in and unhooked her. We got to hold our baby for the first time. No cords. No monitors. It was a beautiful thing.
That night we went home and cuddled our baby. She slept a lot. They said it may take a few days for the medicine to wear off.
Two weeks later, I was feeding her; I burped her and saw a lot of blood running from her mouth. We raced her to our local Children’s Hospital, where she was hooked up to monitors and readmitted. We stayed with her again. After many tests, they determined a dairy allergy. Being a vegetarian, cheese was the only dairy product I ate. But being a mother, sometimes you have to make sacrifices. I asked no questions, and became a vegan then and there that day. After another week in the hospital, we were free to go.
Laila did not get here easily, and her first few weeks of life were enough to make some people lose hope. But we didn’t. Sometimes, life throws you for a loop. That’s life. Don’t let it conquer you or steal your soul. Don’t ever let the darkness creep in, I have come close many times, but my husband and my miracle baby keep me on track. This is Laila’s story. Today she is a healthy baby girl that loves being outside and having songs sang to her. I would happily lay my life down for her. Thanks for reading.
Bundles of Joy,
Spen’Sar
Guest Post written by Spen'Sar Custer, mother of 1 from Tennessee. She's also a hiker, outdoor enthusiast, artist, music lover, wife, and a tree huggin', dirt worshipping, happy hippie.You can read more about Spen'Sar at her blog, The Happy Hippie.
When I was younger, I was told that I would never be able to have children due to PCOS. I accepted my fate and kept my head held high. I would adopt. One way or another, I would be a mommy to someone someday.
I met my best friend turned husband in 2007. When we were married in 2009, we decided we definitely wanted children. I told him they may not be biological if we were to have children and his views on adoption/foster parenting matched mine. We began making about a 45 minute drive each weekend for our foster parenting classes. We were midway through the classes and we were informed that the demand for younger children and infants was high, so we would more than likely never have a child under the age of 16 in our home. We have nothing against teenagers, but we were looking to be able to instill good values and eventually adopt the child we were raising. We had just been teenagers not all that long ago and we knew what the job entailed. Lots of angst, rebellion, and heartbreak is generally what surrounds the teenage years. This isn’t true for all children, but we learned that teenagers in foster homes were more likely to rebel than your average teenager. We discontinued our classes.
We began charting ovulation and I began my monthly blood tests to check for pregnancy. After more and more attempts, and even more failed pregnancy tests, we decided it wasn’t meant to be. Several of my friends at work had become pregnant, and all I could think of was “Why not us?” It was hard. It was 2011 and we decided we were just going to chill out on the “trying to get pregnant” process. Finally have some us time.
ENTER April 2011. This month was not a particularly hot month, but for some reason, I had been waking up at all hours of the night in hot and cold sweats. I hadn’t missed my period or anything like that, in fact I had just gotten off of it. It had to be my hormones I thought. The week of the 28th, I scheduled an appointment to have a blood test to check my thyroid. I had been feeling ill all week. I was definitely getting sick I thought. At my appointment, she asked if we had still been trying, “On and Off” I answered. She told me I should try and take a pregnancy test as well, just to make sure. I dreaded it. The heartbreak that followed every time I took a test in that office and it came back negative... “Here we go again”, I thought. As I sat and waited for the test to turn, she prepared the needle for the blood test. “OH MY GOD IT’S POSITIVE!!!!!” she yelled. I calmly looked over and asked “What?” “THE TEST!!!!! YOU’RE GOING TO BE A MOMMA!!!!!!” I began shaking. It had to be wrong. I requested another test. She informed me that the medical grade tests were 98% accurate. I was in disbelief. I took another test “POSITIVE!!!!!” she screamed again. I still said no. I requested the blood test. Those tests are 100%. I was shaking.
I left work early that day; it was my husband’s day off. I had bought a card a long time ago that I had intended to give him when I found out we were pregnant. It said: Get ready for the pickles and ice cream! We’re pregnant! When I got home Jeff was concerned. I told him that I would be right back. I went to the closet, got the card and the 2 stick tests, and wrote my heart out about he was going to be a daddy. I placed the sticks inside and sealed the envelope. I placed the letter directly into his hands. He wanted to know what it was... He shook it and tried to see through it. He had no clue. He opened it and looked right at the tests. “Whose are these? “He said. “Read the letter!!!”. He read it and stood in shock. He turned to me, searching my face to see if I was about to yell JUST KIDDING!!...and I grinned from ear to ear. He gave me one of the biggest hugs I think I have ever had. In fact, he started cutting off my air supply at one point. He wouldn’t let go. “LET GO!!!!!!!” I yelled. When we pulled away he just continuously asked me if it was real. Over and over again. I told him the tests were 98% accurate and that the blood test would be back tomorrow to let us know 100%. That night we went through one of the largest hail producing storms Tennessee has ever seen. My car was totaled. Thank God for full coverage insurance!! Haha. The next day the test came back positive!!!! An ultrasound followed and we found out I was 6wks along.
The months flew by. The morning sickness finally trailed off. I loved being pregnant. I was going to have a natural, drug free birth. After watching countless documentaries and reading horror stories about hospital births, we found a midwife and quickly learned my insurance doesn’t even touch midwifery services. We decided at the recommendation of a friend, on a local Obgyn. I would still have the natural birth, but I would simply deliver at the hospital….right? Throughout my pregnancy, EVERYONE told us we were definitely having a boy. The day we were to find the sex, Jeff asked me what I felt in my heart it would be. I said “I think it’s going to be a girl.” BINGO! Jeff’s heart grew 100 times larger that day. A daddy’s girl. He was ecstatic. So was I. I wore pink to work the next day to announce to everyone. We would name her Laila. (Like the Eric Clapton song, but spelled different)
The day was fast approaching. I was huge, and I loved it. I was getting foot and back rubs every night (which is still continuing to this day. Lol...) I was finally on maternity leave. This was the life. But it wasn’t. We wanted our little girl. We walked as much as we could, trying to get labor to start. My due Date was Dec 25th. Our doctor kept throwing induction around, but we declined. She would come when she was ready. Laila was a very busy baby while in the womb. She constantly hiccupped and kicked around.
On the evening of January 3rd, I was sitting at the computer at home, playing an old Sims game, and I felt a pop. Then came the small flood. My water had broken…on its own. YAY!!! I calmly texted Jeff to call me. He called and wanted to know what was up. I told him my water had broken and he needed to come home. I didn’t tell him that when my water had broken that it had a green tint to it, meaning that Laila, being an overdue baby, had her first bowel movement in the womb. Which is a normal thing for babies that are past due, but it makes things a bit trickier because infection can set in quickly. I didn’t want to tell Jeff because he tends to drive a bit too quickly when there’s an emergency. I hopped in the shower, and started to pack. When Jeff arrived, I told him about the fluid, and I moved/ waddled faster than I had in months. Haha!
I had been very adamant about having my female doctor deliver Laila (I think it’s a bit odd when men go into the obgyn practice. Just sayin’); however, she was not on call that night. It was the only male dr in the practice that happened to be on call. Oh well. They got me hooked up to the monitors and I began the journey into labor. The contractions were hell. With no pain medicine, it was by far the worst pain of my life. It was 9 pm. I had read that first babies take a lot longer to be born. Oh my gosh. I labored in bed, on the ball, in the bathroom in the hall. I started shaking, which was completely normal the dr assured me. I was freezing. I started convulsing a bit. Laila’s heart rate was high, and it would not go down. A team of nurses rushed in, and the next few hours were a blur to me. I had about 10 blankets on me and they had begun to give me oxygen. They wanted to give me Pitocin to make my labor speed up. I declined. My actual dr. finally arrived and checked me. I was at 6 centimeters. But then she checked my temperature. It was 103.5 and rising. The baby’s heart rate was too. Emergency C-section she said. I asked what my other options were; she said there are no other options. She said I could either be put to sleep, or take the epidural and be awake to hear her first cries.
The nurse called for the anesthesiologist. A boy, a bit younger than me, arrived to the room. HE was the anesthesiologist….the student anesthesiologist. The senior tech was already in surgery with another patient. I asked the boy how many epidurals he had done. “Enough.” He answered as he looked down at the floor. I turned my back and sat as he pushed and poked, meanwhile having the worst contractions ever. He found the spot…and he messed up. He put it in crooked and it numbed one of my legs. I was still feeling everything. He wanted to try again. He removed the needle and replaced it. Nothing. Finally the dr arrived and said they would get the senior tech to do it, but there was no time left, I needed to get in the operating room ASAP. Poor Jeff was a nervous wreck the entire time. He tried massaging me, I didn’t want to be touched... I didn’t want to talk. I felt like I failed my baby. But I know it wasn’t my fault... sometimes, in these situations, you don’t have proper thought process. They rushed me into the room, and the senior tech once again tried the epidural. Nothing...again. One leg was numb, and they had given me so many epidurals at this point, the left side of my body was numb, and my face was drooping, similar to that of a stroke victim. I was pitiful. FINALLY they did a spinal tap on me and got me to go numb from the waist down.
They finally brought Jeff in (while they were cutting and removing organs I might add). We sat behind a big blue curtain waiting. They informed me that because of the stress she had gone through and the meconium that was in the amniotic fluid, that she would be rushed off to the NICU unit to be tested for infection. We continued to wait for what seemed like a century and then we heard it. The most beautiful cry ever. I hate that she was torn from me violently under bright lights and didn’t get to come on her own terms. Her daddy didn’t get to catch her or cut the cord. But she got here safely either way. Jeff went around and got to her hold her first. Then they brought her around to me after getting her all cleaned up. She was amazing. She had stopped crying by the time the brought her around. They laid her across my chest and she just stared at me. Jeff and I both cried as we held that scrunched up little baby.
Then they took her away.
They wheeled me into recovery. I was refusing pain meds, but I could barely breath it was so severe. My dr advised me to take half a Percocet and some ibuprofen. I felt better. My legs were still numb, and the feeling would not return for 2 days. It would be 6 hours before I could see my baby. I was advised to recover the rest of the night, as they discovered I had an infection in my blood from the fluid. They kept me on antibiotics. Although Laila didn’t show signs of infection, they wanted to make sure. They told me they would be keeping her in the NICU for 7 days for back to back antibiotic treatments. When I went to go see my baby, she had holes in her little bruised hands; she had holes in her tiny little feet, and an I.V in the top of her head. But she looked at me with such wonderment. I began skin on skin contact right away. My milk came in that night and she fed perfectly. Thank God for that. I wanted to feed her on demand, so they paged me every time she was hungry. Every 2 hours. The nurses all gave me kudos for being such a good mommy, even though I was still losing a lot of blood, I went to her every time they called. And I went to her even when they didn’t call. I was in love. Jeff constantly stayed with the both of us. Taking time with me, going to see her. He didn’t get any sleep. I love that man.
When they informed us that they were discharging us, we found out through my dr that we could do something called in-rooming with Laila. She would be hooked up to monitors in the room and we would be allowed to stay there with her. The room had a bed that was as hard as a rock. And being a vegetarian at the time, they didn’t understand that I didn’t eat meat. They constantly brought steak and chicken. How annoying.
No one could give us a straight answer on when she would be discharged. But finally, after 7 days, the dr came in and said she had passed her tests and we would be discharged. I immediately began packing. They came in and unhooked her. We got to hold our baby for the first time. No cords. No monitors. It was a beautiful thing.
That night we went home and cuddled our baby. She slept a lot. They said it may take a few days for the medicine to wear off.
Two weeks later, I was feeding her; I burped her and saw a lot of blood running from her mouth. We raced her to our local Children’s Hospital, where she was hooked up to monitors and readmitted. We stayed with her again. After many tests, they determined a dairy allergy. Being a vegetarian, cheese was the only dairy product I ate. But being a mother, sometimes you have to make sacrifices. I asked no questions, and became a vegan then and there that day. After another week in the hospital, we were free to go.
Laila did not get here easily, and her first few weeks of life were enough to make some people lose hope. But we didn’t. Sometimes, life throws you for a loop. That’s life. Don’t let it conquer you or steal your soul. Don’t ever let the darkness creep in, I have come close many times, but my husband and my miracle baby keep me on track. This is Laila’s story. Today she is a healthy baby girl that loves being outside and having songs sang to her. I would happily lay my life down for her. Thanks for reading.
Bundles of Joy,
Spen’Sar
Guest Post written by Spen'Sar Custer, mother of 1 from Tennessee. She's also a hiker, outdoor enthusiast, artist, music lover, wife, and a tree huggin', dirt worshipping, happy hippie.You can read more about Spen'Sar at her blog, The Happy Hippie.
Sunday, September 22, 2013
Share Your Story - Supplements while TTC
I'm researching using supplements while TTC...if anyone has any insight or would otherwise like to write a piece for me to feature on the blog with your journey and/or success story, I'd be honored to share it on my blog!
Please email me at MommaFriendly {at} gmail {dot} com if you'd like to share your experience, tips or information regarding supplements (or anything, really) to help increase fertility.
Monday, August 26, 2013
Facebook Group for Plus Sized Preggos and Mommas
In case you can't see the video above, you can see it directly on YouTube here.
Plus Size and Pregnant facebook group
Monday, August 12, 2013
Setting my intentions
Some backstory:
I have been slowly getting crunchier and crunchier since 2011 when I got pregnant with my one and only little guy, who is known as Bu on the interwebs :) I am basically the only remotely crunchy mom I know IRL, and I'm used to getting stares for baby-wearing, what I feed my son, my discipline style, etc. I am also in the middle of a lifestyle change while eating as few processed foods as possible because my husband and I hope to TTC when Bu is 3, and I am trying desperately to have a VBAC. I had a 46 hour augmented labor without pain medication that ended in an emergency c-section, and I want to be able to have the birth experience that I felt I worked for the first time around.
I have constantly and consistently run across opposition since I got pregnant, due mostly to my size or my desire to raise my son in an attached, natural manner. I found that a lot of the time, I felt unsupported in my choices, and sometimes became unsure regardless of how much research I'd done and how sure I was that a given path was the path I wanted to take.
I've shared most every detail of my pregnancy, labor and delivery on the internet, as much for my own reflection as to hopefully educate and inspire others that if you want to do something, you can do it. The education and support is out there if you seek it out. I found several like minded moms online and learned from them about cloth diapering, breastfeeding, cosleeping, babywearing...and whatever they couldn't answer for me, I sought elsewhere. I became obsessed with learning all I could because if my pregnancy and labor taught ME anything, it was that no one will advocate for you like you can.
I have joined several groups and forums now, from crunchy living pages to VBAC support groups, and found that the one thing missing was a page for plus size moms to get together and discuss all of these things. I created Plus Size and Pregnant to fill that gap, and three months later we are a handful shy of 100 members.
I've become sort of notorious among my friends for having as much knowledge as opinions on parenting and labor, so a lot of my non-plus-size friends have sought advice from me as well. "Wouldn't it be wonderful," I thought, "to train specifically in labor, delivery and parenting practices so I could REALLY turn my passion into a calling?"
Hence, Momma Friendly. I want to help all moms, moms to be, and anyone who's ever wanted to be a parent. As long as you're interested in doing what's best for your children, future or otherwise, I want to do what I can to make that happen. I am about to start training to become a postpartum doula, and I will be talking about that in this blog. In the meantime, I am going to keep bringing articles and resources about related topics, sharing my experiences and thoughts, and answering any questions I receive from any interested parties. If I cannot answer your question myself, I will do my best to point you in the direction of the right resources.
Thank you for reading. I look forward to sharing with and learning from you all!
I have been slowly getting crunchier and crunchier since 2011 when I got pregnant with my one and only little guy, who is known as Bu on the interwebs :) I am basically the only remotely crunchy mom I know IRL, and I'm used to getting stares for baby-wearing, what I feed my son, my discipline style, etc. I am also in the middle of a lifestyle change while eating as few processed foods as possible because my husband and I hope to TTC when Bu is 3, and I am trying desperately to have a VBAC. I had a 46 hour augmented labor without pain medication that ended in an emergency c-section, and I want to be able to have the birth experience that I felt I worked for the first time around.
I have constantly and consistently run across opposition since I got pregnant, due mostly to my size or my desire to raise my son in an attached, natural manner. I found that a lot of the time, I felt unsupported in my choices, and sometimes became unsure regardless of how much research I'd done and how sure I was that a given path was the path I wanted to take.
I've shared most every detail of my pregnancy, labor and delivery on the internet, as much for my own reflection as to hopefully educate and inspire others that if you want to do something, you can do it. The education and support is out there if you seek it out. I found several like minded moms online and learned from them about cloth diapering, breastfeeding, cosleeping, babywearing...and whatever they couldn't answer for me, I sought elsewhere. I became obsessed with learning all I could because if my pregnancy and labor taught ME anything, it was that no one will advocate for you like you can.
I have joined several groups and forums now, from crunchy living pages to VBAC support groups, and found that the one thing missing was a page for plus size moms to get together and discuss all of these things. I created Plus Size and Pregnant to fill that gap, and three months later we are a handful shy of 100 members.
I've become sort of notorious among my friends for having as much knowledge as opinions on parenting and labor, so a lot of my non-plus-size friends have sought advice from me as well. "Wouldn't it be wonderful," I thought, "to train specifically in labor, delivery and parenting practices so I could REALLY turn my passion into a calling?"
Hence, Momma Friendly. I want to help all moms, moms to be, and anyone who's ever wanted to be a parent. As long as you're interested in doing what's best for your children, future or otherwise, I want to do what I can to make that happen. I am about to start training to become a postpartum doula, and I will be talking about that in this blog. In the meantime, I am going to keep bringing articles and resources about related topics, sharing my experiences and thoughts, and answering any questions I receive from any interested parties. If I cannot answer your question myself, I will do my best to point you in the direction of the right resources.
Thank you for reading. I look forward to sharing with and learning from you all!
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