I'm hoping to make this post into more of a series, since I really want to keep track of what it took to lose the GD weight I've gained since finding out I was pregnant. Since Delilah was born I've gone from, "Oh, it's just not the right time to focus on me," to, "Can I please get some f---ing time to focus on ME!?" in my head.
From the day I became a mother my whole orbit changed. I was no longer even interested in my own being, all I cared about was how Delilah was doing. How many ounces of breastmilk did she get today? Is she crying because of something I'm doing wrong? Is her poop supposed to be that color?? The questions were (and still are, to some extent) endless. It seems I just kind of stopped caring about myself (evident in that fact that even now I wear pajamas for a full day because I know I'm not going to leave the house, except maybe to walk to my mailbox, 20 steps away) on September 29, 2011.
I think this is something many women go through. We're not paid to get back to our pre-baby weight in 3 months like Gisele Bundchen or Jessica Alba, so why bother? I'm sure there are lots of women who DO bother...I'm just not one of them. Or, rather, I haven't been one of them, until now.
At this point in motherhood I am feeling the pull to give my girl some slack on that umbilical cord. Not much, mind you, but enough to feel some independence (for both of us, really). My daughter is 18 months old and I haven't even had a night out with my husband yet! HOLY CRAP! I am finally feeling ready, but not confident. I don't like how I look and it bleeds over to every other part of my life. My lack of confidence is doing me no favors, and it's surely not a good example to set for Delilah. I don't want her to feel this way about herself. I don't want her to be embarrassed of me someday (the fat mom). And I want another child, but I will not do obese pregnancy again. It was not comfortable for me.
My goal from now on is to treat my body with the respect it deserves. After all, I carried a human being inside of me for nine months, then had my body sliced open to get her out safely. I can't keep allowing the excuses to pile up. Examples:
1) "I'm exhausted." What parent ISN'T???? I have to accept that I will be tired until she's a teenager, maybe even beyond that, and move on. Eating better and exercising will actually INCREASE my energy. LEONARDO DICAPRIO IS IRONING - YOUR ARGUMENT IS INVALID.
2) "We're too busy!" Ummm...I just watched about 2 hours of TV while sitting on the couch. I bet if I take that time after D goes to bed and use it at the gym or even just planning meals, grocery shopping, strength training - I can find the time. I have to become important again. I am more important than TV. Even "The Walking Dead"...okay, maybe not that show, but you get the idea.
At this point I am slowly working my way into a weight loss plan. I have goals, rewards and apps to help. I have tons of support (thanks to all you readers). As scary as it seems to make a change, it's what's best for me and my family.
I have a little over 70 pounds to lose in order to hit my first big goal weight. The reward when I get to that goal? Start trying for baby number two! Wish me luck...
Sunday, March 31, 2013
Friday, March 22, 2013
Five things I said I'd never do with my child...before I had one.
When I was pregnant it was very easy for me to imagine how life would be with a child. I was very sure that I knew what this parenting thing would be like. After all, I helped my mom with my baby brother when I was a kid AND I was a nanny. Yes, I was that naive. It wasn't until my child was in my arms, after an emotionally draining delivery, that I realized things probably weren't going to go the way I planned. The first year was intense, but so stunningly amazing. I found myself mommy-gyvering all the time. And I learned that I sometimes needed to lean on things that were on my DEFINITELY NOT GONNA HAPPEN list while I was pregnant, just to keep my sanity.
Here are five that I can think of...I'm sure there will be more that I don't want to admit to. ;)
1) ABSOLUTELY no sleeping with the baby in bed. I know, I know - not very progressive. I was so afraid of all the warnings I had heard that I really thought it would be safer to have my daughter next to me in her pack and play rather than snuggly in bed with me and her daddy. Well, I quickly realized this was ridiculous. There were times in the first few weeks that I fell asleep while holding her in bed sitting up because I was so freaking sleep deprived and she wouldn't wake up as long as I held her. I would wake up terrified because I realized that she was at an odd angle and I COULD HAVE DROPPED HER!! Talk about a heart attack waiting to happen. Anyway, we only brought her into bed with us in the beginning and only for random spurts of time. At this point in her life she doesn't even like sleeping in our bed. She thinks it's a place to wake up and start the day. I'm sure there are tons of moms who see our view of her not sleeping in our bed as a negative thing, but it really has been great for my husband and I. Delilah has been sleeping on her own for so long that she is happy in her crib at night, which means we have our privacy still. I sometimes think maybe all that snuggly stuff would have been great for all of us, but I really value my sleep and any time she does sleep in our bed I am kicked, prodded and practically pushed onto the floor for 8 hours. Not to mention the fear of squishing her...I still have that one!
2) ZERO television before the age of two. ::Sigh:: This one still gets to me because there were good reasons why we were going to stay firm on this one. We didn't want her to be addicted to TV from a young age. We wanted her to read, play with toys, go outside, and form her imagination before we shoved her in front of a screen and said HERE IS EVERYTHING ALREADY THOUGHT OUT FOR YOU, YOUNG ONE. TV is a no thinking required activity and we wanted to keep that a secret from her for as long as we could. Cut to NINE months in, and I showed her the first Elmo video on my iPhone. What a terrible gateway drug the smartphone is. Seriously. She wanted to see it all the time after that one playing. And I kept feeding it to her (sparingly at first) until we finally found our way to the actual television. Thank goodness for DVDs and streaming Netflix. At least the commercials don't have to be involved. So why did I break this "rule" of mine? Because being the 24/7 entertainment was not feasible after she grew out of the exersaucer and all of the places that would cause her to stay in one place quietly while I did the dishes or folded the laundry or WENT PEE. We still are very sparing with the TV, though I show it more than Jace because I'm with her so much more often and I like to have a clean kitchen sometimes. And clean laundry - I like that too. Delilah still reads TONS of books, plays with tons of toys and gets outside for at least a couple of hours a day. Watching "Follow That Bird", "Aristocats" or "Elmo's World" is honestly a last resort on days when I'm just tired of living in filth. She is so ahead of the curve for her age that I think we're doing a pretty darn good job. But that doesn't mean the mommy guilt doesn't creep in once in a while (every GD day) to tell me I'm probably scarring her for life.
3) NO junk food, especially sugar. This one came from my own struggles with my weight and emotional eating. I really thought that I could be one of those Pinterest moms who have a meal planned every day of the week, cook it to perfection and NEVER stray from the grocery list. In order to be that mom I would have to actually have a grocery list and a meal plan. Every saturday a reminder pops up on my phone saying, "Plan meals for the week". Do you know how many times I've used that reminder to actually do that task in the 6 or so months that I've had it programmed in my phone? Maybe twice. It pops up and I go back to whatever I'm doing at the moment (usually sitting on my ass for the first time in 12 or so hours, maybe watching something important like the full series of Ugly Betty on Netflix) thinking I'll remember in the morning. HA. Good one, Amanda. That never happens. So then on Monday I'm frantically trying to put together some sort of meal and Delilah ends up with a hot dog, two strawberries and a slice of toast...great job, Mom. Eventually this pushed me to say, "let's go out to dinner" a couple (few) nights a week for a while. This led to Delilah eating off of the kids menu which is full of terrible, nasty junk food at any restaurant, probably even some vegan-city restaurant that gets great reviews for the adult food. For some reason chicken strips, mac and cheese, grilled cheese, and cheeseburger are the 4 food groups of the kid menu. And forget about vegetables that she can actually eat - how about carrot sticks with ranch or apples with caramel. Anyway, I know it's our fault for taking her to these places, but damn I was so hoping we'd avoid those foods unless they were homemade. Cooking takes time and energy. And planning. Excuses, I know. But I'm getting better at making dinner. Breakfast and lunch also need help on days that I'm working from home. I just get so overwhelmed when I have to think of a meal on the spot that I freeze and say, "get her something from Oliver's" (usually a burrito), the store down the street. Sugar has been easier to control, but, lately, if she sees me eating it she begs for a bite. I'll have to curb my habits further in order to keep her sugar intake limited. The food issue is one that we're sllloowwly working on. I'm happy to report that she does like all kinds of food, though. She eats veggies, asks for fruits as a snack (she loooves frozen blueberries), loves fish, and even enjoys her dad's veggie smoothies (I, on the other hand, do not). Jace and I have a good food balance.
4) NEVER will she be left unattended without a gate or some sort of blockade to the outside world. I honestly believed that leaving a child unattended for the millisecond that it takes to pee was enough to be the world's worst mother...before I had to pee with a crawling, then walking child in tow. Nowadays I will run out to the garage and ask her to stay where she is, just praying to whoever watches over sweet toddler babies that she doesn't fall and hit her head. And I can honestly say that she doesn't usually hurt herself when I'm not looking. It's almost always while we're walking through the park and she trips over my foot, or while we're in my room and she slams her finger between the bedroom door and the cabinet behind it - while I'm standing right there like a bumbling idiot. I worry CONSTANTLY when I can't see her, but I'm always checking in vocally (from, like, 20 feet away), then running to the laundry room door when she doesn't answer only to see her standing there looking at me like I'm a crazy person. She's at an age where she's juuuust starting to stir up trouble. Soon I will be more worried about her coloring on the walls or pooping on the floor...oh wait, that already happened. As a mom I need moments to just get a thing done and as a kid she needs to learn that it's okay to play quietly by herself or explore the completely fenced in yard for a minute while mommy runs in to grab something. She and I have a balance that totally works for us. She knows where I am and I know to run frantically back to where she is when things get silent.
5) WE WILL NOT be the parents of the booger covered kid at the park. Until recently I was disgusted by any other kid I saw at the park who had that stream of snot oozing down their face. And when I saw one get a snot bubble...oh my god...no, I can't even think about that, I might barf. So when my kid got her first real toddler cold a couple of weeks ago I figured I'd keep her away from other kids the whole time she had the runny nose and wipe as often as possible in public. Oh, what a fool I am sometimes. The snot NEVER STOPS. For over week I kept her relatively hidden from the outside world, only playing out in our yard or staying strapped in the stroller while we walked Apollo in the park, but the damn river of boogies is still flowing! I can't keep her locked away forever, that's just cruel! And while we're at the park it's hard enough to remember where I put the stroller, let alone finding a crumpled up tissue to wipe her with every 10 seconds. As ashamed as I am to admit it, I am now one of those parents (all parents?). And bless her heart, even covered in boogies my girl is the still the cutest on the playground. <3
These five things are my confessions of what parenthood has been for me. I love being a mom, but it's tough! I had no idea how emotionally and physically drained I would be after a day alone with her. The fact that I'm an introvert doesn't help, as I need alone time to recharge my batteries and I don't get that most days (what with all the non-napping) until she's in bed for the night. I do rely on a few crutches that I think a lot of parents lean on for support. In the grand scheme of things I know my child is healthy, happy and extremely loved. She gets tons of time with mommy and daddy each day. Sometimes I have to reassure myself (or have my husband reassure me by fishing for compliments) that I'm doing a good job. Honestly, I think that's just part of being a mom. I'm my toughest critic. So I'll leave myself with this thought:
Delilah loves you more than anything in the world. She reaches for you when she needs comfort, she tries to make you laugh, she wants to be with you all the time (even when you're peeing), and she really looks up to you (not just physically) while learning about every day things like nature, words, numbers, animal noises, and music. If that's not love, I don't know what is. You're a good mom, Amanda Bandalin.
Here are five that I can think of...I'm sure there will be more that I don't want to admit to. ;)
1) ABSOLUTELY no sleeping with the baby in bed. I know, I know - not very progressive. I was so afraid of all the warnings I had heard that I really thought it would be safer to have my daughter next to me in her pack and play rather than snuggly in bed with me and her daddy. Well, I quickly realized this was ridiculous. There were times in the first few weeks that I fell asleep while holding her in bed sitting up because I was so freaking sleep deprived and she wouldn't wake up as long as I held her. I would wake up terrified because I realized that she was at an odd angle and I COULD HAVE DROPPED HER!! Talk about a heart attack waiting to happen. Anyway, we only brought her into bed with us in the beginning and only for random spurts of time. At this point in her life she doesn't even like sleeping in our bed. She thinks it's a place to wake up and start the day. I'm sure there are tons of moms who see our view of her not sleeping in our bed as a negative thing, but it really has been great for my husband and I. Delilah has been sleeping on her own for so long that she is happy in her crib at night, which means we have our privacy still. I sometimes think maybe all that snuggly stuff would have been great for all of us, but I really value my sleep and any time she does sleep in our bed I am kicked, prodded and practically pushed onto the floor for 8 hours. Not to mention the fear of squishing her...I still have that one!
2) ZERO television before the age of two. ::Sigh:: This one still gets to me because there were good reasons why we were going to stay firm on this one. We didn't want her to be addicted to TV from a young age. We wanted her to read, play with toys, go outside, and form her imagination before we shoved her in front of a screen and said HERE IS EVERYTHING ALREADY THOUGHT OUT FOR YOU, YOUNG ONE. TV is a no thinking required activity and we wanted to keep that a secret from her for as long as we could. Cut to NINE months in, and I showed her the first Elmo video on my iPhone. What a terrible gateway drug the smartphone is. Seriously. She wanted to see it all the time after that one playing. And I kept feeding it to her (sparingly at first) until we finally found our way to the actual television. Thank goodness for DVDs and streaming Netflix. At least the commercials don't have to be involved. So why did I break this "rule" of mine? Because being the 24/7 entertainment was not feasible after she grew out of the exersaucer and all of the places that would cause her to stay in one place quietly while I did the dishes or folded the laundry or WENT PEE. We still are very sparing with the TV, though I show it more than Jace because I'm with her so much more often and I like to have a clean kitchen sometimes. And clean laundry - I like that too. Delilah still reads TONS of books, plays with tons of toys and gets outside for at least a couple of hours a day. Watching "Follow That Bird", "Aristocats" or "Elmo's World" is honestly a last resort on days when I'm just tired of living in filth. She is so ahead of the curve for her age that I think we're doing a pretty darn good job. But that doesn't mean the mommy guilt doesn't creep in once in a while (every GD day) to tell me I'm probably scarring her for life.
3) NO junk food, especially sugar. This one came from my own struggles with my weight and emotional eating. I really thought that I could be one of those Pinterest moms who have a meal planned every day of the week, cook it to perfection and NEVER stray from the grocery list. In order to be that mom I would have to actually have a grocery list and a meal plan. Every saturday a reminder pops up on my phone saying, "Plan meals for the week". Do you know how many times I've used that reminder to actually do that task in the 6 or so months that I've had it programmed in my phone? Maybe twice. It pops up and I go back to whatever I'm doing at the moment (usually sitting on my ass for the first time in 12 or so hours, maybe watching something important like the full series of Ugly Betty on Netflix) thinking I'll remember in the morning. HA. Good one, Amanda. That never happens. So then on Monday I'm frantically trying to put together some sort of meal and Delilah ends up with a hot dog, two strawberries and a slice of toast...great job, Mom. Eventually this pushed me to say, "let's go out to dinner" a couple (few) nights a week for a while. This led to Delilah eating off of the kids menu which is full of terrible, nasty junk food at any restaurant, probably even some vegan-city restaurant that gets great reviews for the adult food. For some reason chicken strips, mac and cheese, grilled cheese, and cheeseburger are the 4 food groups of the kid menu. And forget about vegetables that she can actually eat - how about carrot sticks with ranch or apples with caramel. Anyway, I know it's our fault for taking her to these places, but damn I was so hoping we'd avoid those foods unless they were homemade. Cooking takes time and energy. And planning. Excuses, I know. But I'm getting better at making dinner. Breakfast and lunch also need help on days that I'm working from home. I just get so overwhelmed when I have to think of a meal on the spot that I freeze and say, "get her something from Oliver's" (usually a burrito), the store down the street. Sugar has been easier to control, but, lately, if she sees me eating it she begs for a bite. I'll have to curb my habits further in order to keep her sugar intake limited. The food issue is one that we're sllloowwly working on. I'm happy to report that she does like all kinds of food, though. She eats veggies, asks for fruits as a snack (she loooves frozen blueberries), loves fish, and even enjoys her dad's veggie smoothies (I, on the other hand, do not). Jace and I have a good food balance.
4) NEVER will she be left unattended without a gate or some sort of blockade to the outside world. I honestly believed that leaving a child unattended for the millisecond that it takes to pee was enough to be the world's worst mother...before I had to pee with a crawling, then walking child in tow. Nowadays I will run out to the garage and ask her to stay where she is, just praying to whoever watches over sweet toddler babies that she doesn't fall and hit her head. And I can honestly say that she doesn't usually hurt herself when I'm not looking. It's almost always while we're walking through the park and she trips over my foot, or while we're in my room and she slams her finger between the bedroom door and the cabinet behind it - while I'm standing right there like a bumbling idiot. I worry CONSTANTLY when I can't see her, but I'm always checking in vocally (from, like, 20 feet away), then running to the laundry room door when she doesn't answer only to see her standing there looking at me like I'm a crazy person. She's at an age where she's juuuust starting to stir up trouble. Soon I will be more worried about her coloring on the walls or pooping on the floor...oh wait, that already happened. As a mom I need moments to just get a thing done and as a kid she needs to learn that it's okay to play quietly by herself or explore the completely fenced in yard for a minute while mommy runs in to grab something. She and I have a balance that totally works for us. She knows where I am and I know to run frantically back to where she is when things get silent.
5) WE WILL NOT be the parents of the booger covered kid at the park. Until recently I was disgusted by any other kid I saw at the park who had that stream of snot oozing down their face. And when I saw one get a snot bubble...oh my god...no, I can't even think about that, I might barf. So when my kid got her first real toddler cold a couple of weeks ago I figured I'd keep her away from other kids the whole time she had the runny nose and wipe as often as possible in public. Oh, what a fool I am sometimes. The snot NEVER STOPS. For over week I kept her relatively hidden from the outside world, only playing out in our yard or staying strapped in the stroller while we walked Apollo in the park, but the damn river of boogies is still flowing! I can't keep her locked away forever, that's just cruel! And while we're at the park it's hard enough to remember where I put the stroller, let alone finding a crumpled up tissue to wipe her with every 10 seconds. As ashamed as I am to admit it, I am now one of those parents (all parents?). And bless her heart, even covered in boogies my girl is the still the cutest on the playground. <3
These five things are my confessions of what parenthood has been for me. I love being a mom, but it's tough! I had no idea how emotionally and physically drained I would be after a day alone with her. The fact that I'm an introvert doesn't help, as I need alone time to recharge my batteries and I don't get that most days (what with all the non-napping) until she's in bed for the night. I do rely on a few crutches that I think a lot of parents lean on for support. In the grand scheme of things I know my child is healthy, happy and extremely loved. She gets tons of time with mommy and daddy each day. Sometimes I have to reassure myself (or have my husband reassure me by fishing for compliments) that I'm doing a good job. Honestly, I think that's just part of being a mom. I'm my toughest critic. So I'll leave myself with this thought:
Delilah loves you more than anything in the world. She reaches for you when she needs comfort, she tries to make you laugh, she wants to be with you all the time (even when you're peeing), and she really looks up to you (not just physically) while learning about every day things like nature, words, numbers, animal noises, and music. If that's not love, I don't know what is. You're a good mom, Amanda Bandalin.
Monday, July 23, 2012
Sleep...or lack thereof.
Before Delilah was born I had assumptions about baby sleep. I read that newborns sleep most of the day, with wake ups for food and diaper changes. I heard from people that we needed to have her sleep around noise, so that she would get used to it and be able to sleep through all kinds of things. I was told that I could get things done while she was sleeping, but I should choose sleep during that time instead.
Once she came into the world, we knew Delilah was a little more alert than most newborns. She has always had this intense stare that it seems can see right into your soul. She was always very aware of things - people have commented on this since day one. She didn't seem to fit the story of the constantly sleeping newborn; she wanted to be a part of this world!
While I was trying to make breastfeeding work, we had to wake Delilah up if she was asleep in order to feed her "on time". This was the most horrible process we had to go through in the beginning. We would have to rouse her from a nice, deep sleep in order to force feed her something that she couldn't even latch onto properly. Looking back, I would not do this again. If I run into this problem with our next child, I will pump and bottle feed - no more waking a sleeping baby. We would have to rouse her awake, which was so upsetting for all of us. Eventually we stopped doing this and just decided to do things our way. She slept so well after that. It was wonderful.
When Delilah was a little over a month old we attempted to get some grown up time by putting her upstairs to sleep while we stayed downstairs to watch TV. We would put her in her bed (in our room) upstairs - I was a nervous wreck whenever we did this - and she would wake up about 20 minutes after we left the room SCREAMING BLOODY MURDER. I swear there were times when I thought a spider bit her or something was in our room scaring her! After these episodes I would hold her downstairs until she fell asleep, then I'd put her in her little chair downstairs so she could sleep down there with us. We had to rig blankets to screen her from the TV light, but it helped her to sleep knowing we were nearby. Again, something I learned for the next baby.
While she slept in our room she was in one of those pack and play things that had a "newborn cuddle nest" or some dumb name like that. It scared me because it was so snuggly and all of the books said she needed to be on a firm mattress on her back ONLY. Eventually we stopped using the snuggle thing and just put her in the play yard, swaddled and listening to white noise while she fell asleep.
At one time she was sleeping through most of the night (I think when she was about 2 months old), which allowed us to get the rest we needed so desperately. We were so proud and amazed when she would go down after her bedtime routine (bath, bottle and book, bed). We felt we had accomplished something that most parents don't so early in infancy. Cut to one month later...
Around three months of age everything changed. Delilah started to fight sleep pretty young. She was almost impossible to put down - once she would fall asleep it was a stealth operation to get her into her bed without waking her. Looking back, I know we should have started some sort of sleep training much earlier. It took her no time at all to learn that crying equals Mommy and Daddy back in the room. We just thought she was too young (and she probably was) for those cry-it-out methods we'd been hearing about.
Honestly, now, I wish we'd just done co-sleeping once we realized how sensitive Delilah is. At this point in her life (a little over 9 months old) she is VERY difficult to put down to sleep. We have our easy times, but even those include some fussing or fighting. She just doesn't want to miss out, it seems like. The doctor warned me at her last visit (6 month) that we have a very smart child on our hands. She actually has known for a long time how to "work" us by screaming and crying. Even now she will stand screaming in the crib, acting like she doesn't know how to get back down on the mattress...but she does. I've seen her plop her butt back down and crawl to another part of the crib.
At this point in her babyhood, Jace and I realize we need to do something because she still wakes a couple of times a week early in the morning and after her bottle she will scream and cry if we try to put her back down. It is frustrating and infuriating for both of us. We also have a hard time getting out of her room because the floor right by her room door creak like the dickens as we're trying to leave, and any little noise will wake this child up if she's not passed out cold. We even whisper downstairs and use closed captioning when we watch movies, just to be safe. One time I tore a piece of foil down in the kitchen while she was sleeping upstairs and IT WOKE HER UP!! She has the most sensitive ears...just like me. LOL.
The part of this issue that is the most difficult is that we fear she isn't getting "enough" sleep. Sure, every child is different, but ours will go to sleep at 8 or 9 pm (on a difficult night), wake up at 3 am, scream and cry for 30 minutes before falling back to sleep, then wake at 5:45 to start the day. We've read that she's supposed to be getting 11 or more hours of sleep...not happening. And don't get me started on naps. Oh boy. For many months I would just give in and let the person watching her (while I work from home) take her out on a walk for sleep because she was fighting SO hard against sleeping in her crib and I just didn't have time while working to figure it out.
**The above paragraphs were written over the past few months. Her sleep patterns have changed (a little) at this point.**
At this point Delilah is a better sleeper. I doubt she'll take longer naps as she gets older, considering that she has already begun taking MUCH shorter morning naps (1/2 hour to 40 minutes). We have our days of "I don't want to sleeeeeep, even though I'm exhausteeeeed!", and we just try our best to stay sane and work with her until she realizes sleep feels good. There are guaranteed ways (car ride, stroller ride) of getting her to sleep, but we don't want to rely on those any more as she's almost a year old. She should be sleeping in her bed, unless it's been a long day and we're on our way home from somewhere exhausting. I am tired of relying on sleep crutches to get me through the day.
Bedtime is still a work in progress. Jace and I switch off, but he has a way with her at night that I just don't. In this house we call him "The Closer", since he is usually able to get her to sleep, even when she's seemingly wide awake with me.
We do some cry-it-out if she just isn't getting the message that it's bedtime. We start with 5 minutes, then go back in and soothe, then wait ten minutes, and so on. Most times she'll be asleep after the second round (10 minutes). We've found this method works pretty well for us.
Over the past 4 days she has been sleeping through the night (between 7 and 8 pm to 6 am) and boy has it been nice. We know there is a tooth coming, though...so I'm not totally convinced this will last very long. Teething always throws a wrench in the machine.
We have not had the easiest time with our little girl when it comes to sleep, but every time she finally does go down to sleep all I can think about is how much I want to see her again!! Our sleep deprivation is minimal compared to some peoples' and we know we're lucky in that respect. We usually get our downtime for a couple of hours after she goes to sleep at night, which brings us back together as a couple. That seems to be the key to surviving this first year without going insane: lean on your partner when you need to. Don't expect them to do EVERYthing, but know that you have someone to take over when things are getting rough and you're pulling your hair out. This is something Jace and I are lucky to have.
We're almost to the one year mark and we're hoping we'll be sleeping in by the time she's 20 years old. By then I'm sure we'll have adjusted to the 6 am wake-up time, as most parents do, and we won't actually be able to sleep past then. I've seen it with my parents. We'll most likely end up in the same boat...but it's all worth it. A million times over, it is worth it.
Once she came into the world, we knew Delilah was a little more alert than most newborns. She has always had this intense stare that it seems can see right into your soul. She was always very aware of things - people have commented on this since day one. She didn't seem to fit the story of the constantly sleeping newborn; she wanted to be a part of this world!
While I was trying to make breastfeeding work, we had to wake Delilah up if she was asleep in order to feed her "on time". This was the most horrible process we had to go through in the beginning. We would have to rouse her from a nice, deep sleep in order to force feed her something that she couldn't even latch onto properly. Looking back, I would not do this again. If I run into this problem with our next child, I will pump and bottle feed - no more waking a sleeping baby. We would have to rouse her awake, which was so upsetting for all of us. Eventually we stopped doing this and just decided to do things our way. She slept so well after that. It was wonderful.
When Delilah was a little over a month old we attempted to get some grown up time by putting her upstairs to sleep while we stayed downstairs to watch TV. We would put her in her bed (in our room) upstairs - I was a nervous wreck whenever we did this - and she would wake up about 20 minutes after we left the room SCREAMING BLOODY MURDER. I swear there were times when I thought a spider bit her or something was in our room scaring her! After these episodes I would hold her downstairs until she fell asleep, then I'd put her in her little chair downstairs so she could sleep down there with us. We had to rig blankets to screen her from the TV light, but it helped her to sleep knowing we were nearby. Again, something I learned for the next baby.
While she slept in our room she was in one of those pack and play things that had a "newborn cuddle nest" or some dumb name like that. It scared me because it was so snuggly and all of the books said she needed to be on a firm mattress on her back ONLY. Eventually we stopped using the snuggle thing and just put her in the play yard, swaddled and listening to white noise while she fell asleep.
At one time she was sleeping through most of the night (I think when she was about 2 months old), which allowed us to get the rest we needed so desperately. We were so proud and amazed when she would go down after her bedtime routine (bath, bottle and book, bed). We felt we had accomplished something that most parents don't so early in infancy. Cut to one month later...
Around three months of age everything changed. Delilah started to fight sleep pretty young. She was almost impossible to put down - once she would fall asleep it was a stealth operation to get her into her bed without waking her. Looking back, I know we should have started some sort of sleep training much earlier. It took her no time at all to learn that crying equals Mommy and Daddy back in the room. We just thought she was too young (and she probably was) for those cry-it-out methods we'd been hearing about.
Honestly, now, I wish we'd just done co-sleeping once we realized how sensitive Delilah is. At this point in her life (a little over 9 months old) she is VERY difficult to put down to sleep. We have our easy times, but even those include some fussing or fighting. She just doesn't want to miss out, it seems like. The doctor warned me at her last visit (6 month) that we have a very smart child on our hands. She actually has known for a long time how to "work" us by screaming and crying. Even now she will stand screaming in the crib, acting like she doesn't know how to get back down on the mattress...but she does. I've seen her plop her butt back down and crawl to another part of the crib.
At this point in her babyhood, Jace and I realize we need to do something because she still wakes a couple of times a week early in the morning and after her bottle she will scream and cry if we try to put her back down. It is frustrating and infuriating for both of us. We also have a hard time getting out of her room because the floor right by her room door creak like the dickens as we're trying to leave, and any little noise will wake this child up if she's not passed out cold. We even whisper downstairs and use closed captioning when we watch movies, just to be safe. One time I tore a piece of foil down in the kitchen while she was sleeping upstairs and IT WOKE HER UP!! She has the most sensitive ears...just like me. LOL.
The part of this issue that is the most difficult is that we fear she isn't getting "enough" sleep. Sure, every child is different, but ours will go to sleep at 8 or 9 pm (on a difficult night), wake up at 3 am, scream and cry for 30 minutes before falling back to sleep, then wake at 5:45 to start the day. We've read that she's supposed to be getting 11 or more hours of sleep...not happening. And don't get me started on naps. Oh boy. For many months I would just give in and let the person watching her (while I work from home) take her out on a walk for sleep because she was fighting SO hard against sleeping in her crib and I just didn't have time while working to figure it out.
**The above paragraphs were written over the past few months. Her sleep patterns have changed (a little) at this point.**
At this point Delilah is a better sleeper. I doubt she'll take longer naps as she gets older, considering that she has already begun taking MUCH shorter morning naps (1/2 hour to 40 minutes). We have our days of "I don't want to sleeeeeep, even though I'm exhausteeeeed!", and we just try our best to stay sane and work with her until she realizes sleep feels good. There are guaranteed ways (car ride, stroller ride) of getting her to sleep, but we don't want to rely on those any more as she's almost a year old. She should be sleeping in her bed, unless it's been a long day and we're on our way home from somewhere exhausting. I am tired of relying on sleep crutches to get me through the day.
Bedtime is still a work in progress. Jace and I switch off, but he has a way with her at night that I just don't. In this house we call him "The Closer", since he is usually able to get her to sleep, even when she's seemingly wide awake with me.
We do some cry-it-out if she just isn't getting the message that it's bedtime. We start with 5 minutes, then go back in and soothe, then wait ten minutes, and so on. Most times she'll be asleep after the second round (10 minutes). We've found this method works pretty well for us.
Over the past 4 days she has been sleeping through the night (between 7 and 8 pm to 6 am) and boy has it been nice. We know there is a tooth coming, though...so I'm not totally convinced this will last very long. Teething always throws a wrench in the machine.
We have not had the easiest time with our little girl when it comes to sleep, but every time she finally does go down to sleep all I can think about is how much I want to see her again!! Our sleep deprivation is minimal compared to some peoples' and we know we're lucky in that respect. We usually get our downtime for a couple of hours after she goes to sleep at night, which brings us back together as a couple. That seems to be the key to surviving this first year without going insane: lean on your partner when you need to. Don't expect them to do EVERYthing, but know that you have someone to take over when things are getting rough and you're pulling your hair out. This is something Jace and I are lucky to have.
We're almost to the one year mark and we're hoping we'll be sleeping in by the time she's 20 years old. By then I'm sure we'll have adjusted to the 6 am wake-up time, as most parents do, and we won't actually be able to sleep past then. I've seen it with my parents. We'll most likely end up in the same boat...but it's all worth it. A million times over, it is worth it.
 |
| Back when she used to sleep in her little chair - so precious. <3 |
Wednesday, May 16, 2012
How Breastfeeding Almost Defeated Me
Before I gave birth to Delilah I did a lot of research on labor, delivery, taking baby home, etc. I watched "The Business of Being Born". I read (skimmed through, really) many books and articles on how best to care for a newborn. I asked my mom friends lots of questions about what worked for them with their babies. All in all, I came to the conclusion that breastfeeding was THE way to go for my new little one.
I spent hours researching breastfeeding (how-tos, videos, latching, pumping), but none of it prepared me for what really went down after Baby D was born. It all seemed so natural: baby is born, baby sees boob, baby finds nipple, baby is fed. Simple, right? WROOOONG. It turns out things aren't as easy as they look on the internet.
After my c-section I had to give my body some time to realize milk was needed. The nurses got me started with a pump and soon the milk was flowing. Alright, one issue down, now time for the easy part: baby drinks milk.
Nope. I learned that Baby can't drink the milk unless she latches on properly, which was not happening with Delilah. She had a shallow latch, which meant she couldn't get the full areola into her mouth, only the nipple. This meant two things: 1) She wasn't getting enough milk at a feeding and 2) I was going to be in a lot of pain because she was basically chomping on my nipple for long periods of time. OUCH.
The nurses and lactation consultants all had different ideas. We tried nipple shields, syringes with tubing, bottle feeding, different nursing positions...I just could never quite get it right. As soon as I thought I had it, my nipple would start hurting and I knew she wasn't latched on properly. I began to get very frustrated at myself.
"Why can't I do this right?"
"How is it that I can be failing at something that is supposed to be instinctive??"
"I am a terrible mother."
These were all the thoughts that ran through my head on any given day during my breastfeeding attempts. There would be good times where Delilah seemed to latch on well and stayed feeding for 30 minutes or so. There were bad times where I honestly could not get her to latch at all and then she was crying, then I was crying...not fun for either of us. Plus, I was up all hours of the night pumping so that we could give her bottles after my attempts to breastfeed her failed.
Along with the latching issues, we also ran into what we believed was a lactose sensitivity. Delilah would have these huge crying fits and then explode poop everywhere after a feeding. During my pregnancy I started drinking cow's milk again (I had switched to other sources before that because I seemed to have some senstivity myself), and after D was born I decided to keep with that diet. Once I realized that Delilah may be having issues with milk I tried hard to cut dairy out, which is NOT an easy thing to do. Even so, it seemed like every bottle of breast milk or session of breastfeeding led to my daughter being in extreme pain and suffering. Again, I felt HORRIBLE.
I cried a lot during this time. For about two months I was on and off. One day I was happy to go through the whole cycle, failure and all. Other days I just couldn't handle it and I almost gave in to the formula temptation.
It took me many weeks and lots of soul-searching to realize that in order for both of us to be happy, I had to stop breastfeeding. Even once I'd made the decision, I felt like a total failure. I was "giving up" instead of pushing on to give my daughter the best nutrition possible. I was a terrible mother.
After a few months of formula I came to terms with my breastfeeding "failure". I tried my best, but it just wasn't meant to be for Delilah and me. She has thrived on formula. And, while I sometimes wonder if she would have had less colds or if I gave up too soon, I know I made the right choice. Breastfeeding was not a wonderful bonding experience for me - it was pushing me in the opposite direction. I couldn't concentrate on the bonding part because I was too worried that Delilah wasn't getting the nutrition she needed. Once I started bottle feeding exclusively I had more time to just gaze into her eyes and coo to her. I was sure she was getting enough food. I felt like I was doing the right thing.
To any other mothers dealing with difficulties in breastfeeding: I have been there. I know how hard it can be. I know what an emotional issue it is. I almost gave up on myself, but instead I decided to do what was best for both my sanity and my daughter's well being. As hard as it may be, try not to feel that you have failed.
We are lucky to have other options for providing nutrition to our babies.
I was in a store the other day and I heard two women discussing breastfeeding. They were so gung-ho about it that neither of them stopped to think of what it might be like to have a tough time with it. One mom even said that formula is a scam. My husband was stewing in a corner of a store, not saying what he had to see me go through. I decided on that day to stand up for my choice. I let them know that I had issues and even with all of the lactation consultant help I never really could make it work, so I had to switch to formula. Both stopped and gave me a look that read pity, then they both tripped over themselves to explain their conversation away, as if they weren't talking about me, but all of the other mothers out there who are just too lazy to try breastfeeding. I felt better after saying my piece, but I doubt I made much of an impact. If you haven't been through it, you can't truly understand it.
I hope others will think about the issues many moms go through in the first few months of breastfeeding. I used to be close-minded to other options, but now I realize how amazingly fortunate I am to be able to still provide my baby with the food she needs. Sometimes formula happens. Thank god it exists.
I spent hours researching breastfeeding (how-tos, videos, latching, pumping), but none of it prepared me for what really went down after Baby D was born. It all seemed so natural: baby is born, baby sees boob, baby finds nipple, baby is fed. Simple, right? WROOOONG. It turns out things aren't as easy as they look on the internet.
After my c-section I had to give my body some time to realize milk was needed. The nurses got me started with a pump and soon the milk was flowing. Alright, one issue down, now time for the easy part: baby drinks milk.
Nope. I learned that Baby can't drink the milk unless she latches on properly, which was not happening with Delilah. She had a shallow latch, which meant she couldn't get the full areola into her mouth, only the nipple. This meant two things: 1) She wasn't getting enough milk at a feeding and 2) I was going to be in a lot of pain because she was basically chomping on my nipple for long periods of time. OUCH.
The nurses and lactation consultants all had different ideas. We tried nipple shields, syringes with tubing, bottle feeding, different nursing positions...I just could never quite get it right. As soon as I thought I had it, my nipple would start hurting and I knew she wasn't latched on properly. I began to get very frustrated at myself.
"Why can't I do this right?"
"How is it that I can be failing at something that is supposed to be instinctive??"
"I am a terrible mother."
These were all the thoughts that ran through my head on any given day during my breastfeeding attempts. There would be good times where Delilah seemed to latch on well and stayed feeding for 30 minutes or so. There were bad times where I honestly could not get her to latch at all and then she was crying, then I was crying...not fun for either of us. Plus, I was up all hours of the night pumping so that we could give her bottles after my attempts to breastfeed her failed.
Along with the latching issues, we also ran into what we believed was a lactose sensitivity. Delilah would have these huge crying fits and then explode poop everywhere after a feeding. During my pregnancy I started drinking cow's milk again (I had switched to other sources before that because I seemed to have some senstivity myself), and after D was born I decided to keep with that diet. Once I realized that Delilah may be having issues with milk I tried hard to cut dairy out, which is NOT an easy thing to do. Even so, it seemed like every bottle of breast milk or session of breastfeeding led to my daughter being in extreme pain and suffering. Again, I felt HORRIBLE.
I cried a lot during this time. For about two months I was on and off. One day I was happy to go through the whole cycle, failure and all. Other days I just couldn't handle it and I almost gave in to the formula temptation.
It took me many weeks and lots of soul-searching to realize that in order for both of us to be happy, I had to stop breastfeeding. Even once I'd made the decision, I felt like a total failure. I was "giving up" instead of pushing on to give my daughter the best nutrition possible. I was a terrible mother.
After a few months of formula I came to terms with my breastfeeding "failure". I tried my best, but it just wasn't meant to be for Delilah and me. She has thrived on formula. And, while I sometimes wonder if she would have had less colds or if I gave up too soon, I know I made the right choice. Breastfeeding was not a wonderful bonding experience for me - it was pushing me in the opposite direction. I couldn't concentrate on the bonding part because I was too worried that Delilah wasn't getting the nutrition she needed. Once I started bottle feeding exclusively I had more time to just gaze into her eyes and coo to her. I was sure she was getting enough food. I felt like I was doing the right thing.
To any other mothers dealing with difficulties in breastfeeding: I have been there. I know how hard it can be. I know what an emotional issue it is. I almost gave up on myself, but instead I decided to do what was best for both my sanity and my daughter's well being. As hard as it may be, try not to feel that you have failed.
We are lucky to have other options for providing nutrition to our babies.
I was in a store the other day and I heard two women discussing breastfeeding. They were so gung-ho about it that neither of them stopped to think of what it might be like to have a tough time with it. One mom even said that formula is a scam. My husband was stewing in a corner of a store, not saying what he had to see me go through. I decided on that day to stand up for my choice. I let them know that I had issues and even with all of the lactation consultant help I never really could make it work, so I had to switch to formula. Both stopped and gave me a look that read pity, then they both tripped over themselves to explain their conversation away, as if they weren't talking about me, but all of the other mothers out there who are just too lazy to try breastfeeding. I felt better after saying my piece, but I doubt I made much of an impact. If you haven't been through it, you can't truly understand it.
I hope others will think about the issues many moms go through in the first few months of breastfeeding. I used to be close-minded to other options, but now I realize how amazingly fortunate I am to be able to still provide my baby with the food she needs. Sometimes formula happens. Thank god it exists.
Wednesday, May 2, 2012
How She Came To Be: Part Two (The Birth Story)
I must have told or written this story at least 30 times now, but each time I tell it I get a little stronger. At first I would get upset while I was telling it, since nothing went as I expected. Now I kind of wear it as a badge of honor. It was quite an undertaking, bringing my little lady into the world. I felt like I kind of went to the edge of the world and back. That might sound melodramatic to some, but it describes the feelings I had during the entire process.
On September 28th (4 days before Delilah's estimated due date) I went into labor. I had no idea I was in labor, but I was there, nonetheless. A day or two before I had gone to see my midwife, Suzie, and she did an internal exam. She warned that I may feel Braxton-Hicks contractions or cramping after the poking and prodding, due to the fact that she was poking and prodding. I had never felt Braxton-Hicks, so when the cramping started in the morning I figured that's what I was feeling.
I finished out my work day and waited for Jace to come home. The cramping was getting a little more frequent at this point, but it was nothing I couldn't handle. Once Jace came home we went out to do some errands, including buying stickers for Delilah's room and getting Panda Express for dinner. The whole time I realized something was off. I was having a hard time walking...I was feeling the cramps pretty regularly...maybe this was something more than Braxton-Hicks. I finally told Jace what was going on.
Jace looked at me with a face that said, "You're just NOW telling me this??" He suggested we start timing the contractions (since he figured that's what they were) and go from there. He sounded kind of terrified, but I was staying calm. We watched TV and kept track of things for an hour, as we'd been instructed to do by all of the books and articles I'd read. Eventually we realized I was at the magic number: 5-1-1 (5 contractions, each 1 minute long, for 1 hour). It was go time...maybe.
My thoughts through this part of labor were mainly denial. No, there's no way I'm in labor now. This is my first baby...my due date isn't for 4 days...I'm supposed to go past my due date, not deliver BEFORE it. Keep in mind, pretty much EVERY comment I'd read regarding first time pregnancy was a woman talking about how overdue she was. I even knew a couple of people who went far past their due dates with their first babies. I was not ready to accept the fact that the time had come for me to push this baby out. This is not labor, I kept telling myself.
I finally got up the guts to call the hospital and the doctor on duty was so non-chalant that I almost didn't go to the hospital. Jace really had to push me into believing it was time. The doctor had asked me some questions then said, "Yeah, I guess you can come in now. Sure." Just like that. This was not urgent...so why not wait it out at home? I even tried to use TV as an excuse. Jace was waiting to watch a block of '90s based television that he was really into. I told him that I would feel bad if we went to the hospital and he missed his shows. Yes. That actually happened.
We finally left the house (Jace was in much more of a hurry than I was) and headed to the hospital.
It was around 10 pm, so we had to use the emergency room entrance to get to Labor and Delivery. I decided to have someone wheel me up, even though I probably could have gotten up there on my own two legs. Why pass up a free ride at a time like this? Once upstairs I was given a room, ordered to put on a hospital gown and told to wait. The nurse exclaimed that she figured I was just having cramping due to dehydration (it had been a hot day), but that I would be held for a couple of hours to see if labor progressed before being sent home. All of the medical personnel seemed positive that I would be going home - exactly what I didn't want to hear after making the trip and being checked in to the hospital. I work with health insurance; I know how these bills work. There was a chance United Healthcare wouldn't cover much of this visit...yikes.
Turns out I had nothing to worry about! After a couple of hours the nurse checked me again and said I was now at 4 cm. Wow, I was progressing pretty quickly. This was it...we were in for the long haul.
My plan for the labor process was to hold off on drugs as long as possible - until I could no longer stand it anymore. When labor really began to progress, I felt it HARD. I did not have a birth plan on paper but, I knew, and Jace knew, that if the time came I was not opposed to an epidural (it just scared the bejeezes out of me). I had done research on all aspects of the birthing process - all the things that can go wrong and lead to intervention, all of the ways to ease labor pains, the process of labor and birth. I felt pretty prepared, but the whole thing was still scary, since this was my first birthing experience.
Eventually I ended up in the shower with a yoga ball, rocking back and forth to ease the pain. I had started by walking up and down the hallways, holding on to the railings for dear life. There came a time when I knew I couldn't leave the room anymore, because I was howling like a dying wildebeest and I didn't want to scare any other laboring mothers. The shower became my only salvation. The hot water hitting my back took me out of my body (sort of) and to a place of semi-serenity. I was moaning along with contractions, trying to breathe through the pain (hah!) and not lose myself in the abyss. Jace and I "slow-danced" a lot. He held me up and kept me in my body, even though I just wanted to scream and give up.
At a certain point I was pretty much stuck in transition (7-8 cm), the most painful part of labor (also supposed to be the shortest), for hours. I had to have my water broken when I was at 8 cm, which then undialated me back to 7 cm. Then came my mortal enemy, Pitocin. I still had no drugs, so I asked the nurse if the Pit would make the pain worse. She answered that the Pitocin wouldn't do anything like that, it would just speed things up. WRONG. After Pitocin was injected I felt like I was being ripped in half through every contraction. AND there was almost no break in between them after that. Pitocin is a horrible drug that I hope never to have again. Soon I was asking for pain relief - everything was getting too intense.
I got an injection of Fentanyl, which did literally NOTHING. Finally I asked for the epidural. I was scared I may be too far in, but the nurses said no, I still had time and in walked my hero: The Anesthesiologist. ::Cue the heavens opening music and show a ray of light shining down on his head:: He was very nice and got me to a place of nirvana within minutes. I could no longer get up, but I also didn't have the feeling that I wasn't going to survive the birth of my daughter anymore. Life was good again.
I took a short nap to try and get ready for delivery. I knew it was coming soon - the midwife had just told me I was at 9 cm!!!! I was going to do this!!! I had to prepare to push out my little miracle...
But, that's not the way things went. For some reason, a little while after the epidural, Delilah's heart rate shot up to over 220! I watched the nurse looking over the printed readings and saw her tighten up. She soon jumped into action and started gathering everyone together to get me unhooked from all of the monitors. The midwife (Cecelia) had to tell me, with a tone of sadness, that I was headed for an emergency c-section. The baby was in danger and that had to get her out now. I began to bawl. Jace wasn't in the room, but my mom was. She ran out to get him and he met me in the surgical suite.
I was placed on a T-shaped table, I kind of felt like I was on a cross or something, after they rushed me to the surgical suite. I was given a dose of medicine that caused me to shake violently in my upper body throughout the surgery. I was chattering and shaking on the inside - freaking out and trying to stay calm on the inside. Jace was right by my side the whole time, trying to keep me calm. I asked if I would feel anything and they said no, maybe some pressure. They tested me first and I felt nothing below the waist. The surgery commenced.
I will say that the most frustrating thing about my c-section was that I seemed to be having restless leg issues during the surgery, but I could not move my legs and it drove me CRAZY. When your brain can't get your body to do what it wants a panic sets in and then you have to try to calm down so that you don't go insane. I also COULDN'T. STOP. SHAKING!!! I was so freaking uncomfortable, but luckily I felt no pain. I actually barely even felt the pressure when they pulled her out...
...but I did hear her first cry. Then silence. My brain ran through all the worst case scenarios in about half a second. Then her cry started up again and everyone seemed to be okay. She was brought over to me - there are pictures of me with her right after she was born - but I couldn't hold or touch her due to the fact that I was being sewn shut. Delilah and Jace headed to the nursery and I tried hard to hold myself together.
I wanted to look over the blue sheet, but I don't know that I really could have handled seeing myself so exposed. I was CUT OPEN. That has never really sunken in because I had to get over it very quickly in order to take care of a newborn. I was given all sorts of warnings about not getting up for the entire first 24 hours...this was crushing. I couldn't even tend to my crying daughter. Luckily Jace was amazing and he took over while I recuperated (sort of).
Our four days in the hospital were frustrating in that nurses were coming in very often to do tests on me or the baby and we basically got no sleep because of this. Delilah had an issue with her white blood cell count, but they never figured out why. They just made sure to check in on us every four hours and take our vitals to be sure we were healing well.
Getting out of bed was a freaking nightmare. The pain was intense. You don't even know how often you use your core muscles until you aren't supposed to use them anymore. I began to get sharp pains in my lower ab muscles because they were being overworked. It actually felt like something sharp was trying to poke through my skin...that was terrifying. I asked a nurse if some sort of instrument was left in there or something (silly, I know...but the pain was ridiculous). The one thing I really liked at the hospital was the food. Santa Rosa Memorial has some yummy options!
Finally we were allowed to go home (big sigh of relief, but also terror when we realized we were on our own with this baby now). Now, every time I drive by that hospital I can't help but remember this story. I know it's a memory that I will never lose.
In conclusion: Nothing went as I'd hoped and the c-section was traumatizing, but the end result was a million percent worth it.
On September 28th (4 days before Delilah's estimated due date) I went into labor. I had no idea I was in labor, but I was there, nonetheless. A day or two before I had gone to see my midwife, Suzie, and she did an internal exam. She warned that I may feel Braxton-Hicks contractions or cramping after the poking and prodding, due to the fact that she was poking and prodding. I had never felt Braxton-Hicks, so when the cramping started in the morning I figured that's what I was feeling.
I finished out my work day and waited for Jace to come home. The cramping was getting a little more frequent at this point, but it was nothing I couldn't handle. Once Jace came home we went out to do some errands, including buying stickers for Delilah's room and getting Panda Express for dinner. The whole time I realized something was off. I was having a hard time walking...I was feeling the cramps pretty regularly...maybe this was something more than Braxton-Hicks. I finally told Jace what was going on.
Jace looked at me with a face that said, "You're just NOW telling me this??" He suggested we start timing the contractions (since he figured that's what they were) and go from there. He sounded kind of terrified, but I was staying calm. We watched TV and kept track of things for an hour, as we'd been instructed to do by all of the books and articles I'd read. Eventually we realized I was at the magic number: 5-1-1 (5 contractions, each 1 minute long, for 1 hour). It was go time...maybe.
My thoughts through this part of labor were mainly denial. No, there's no way I'm in labor now. This is my first baby...my due date isn't for 4 days...I'm supposed to go past my due date, not deliver BEFORE it. Keep in mind, pretty much EVERY comment I'd read regarding first time pregnancy was a woman talking about how overdue she was. I even knew a couple of people who went far past their due dates with their first babies. I was not ready to accept the fact that the time had come for me to push this baby out. This is not labor, I kept telling myself.
I finally got up the guts to call the hospital and the doctor on duty was so non-chalant that I almost didn't go to the hospital. Jace really had to push me into believing it was time. The doctor had asked me some questions then said, "Yeah, I guess you can come in now. Sure." Just like that. This was not urgent...so why not wait it out at home? I even tried to use TV as an excuse. Jace was waiting to watch a block of '90s based television that he was really into. I told him that I would feel bad if we went to the hospital and he missed his shows. Yes. That actually happened.
We finally left the house (Jace was in much more of a hurry than I was) and headed to the hospital.
It was around 10 pm, so we had to use the emergency room entrance to get to Labor and Delivery. I decided to have someone wheel me up, even though I probably could have gotten up there on my own two legs. Why pass up a free ride at a time like this? Once upstairs I was given a room, ordered to put on a hospital gown and told to wait. The nurse exclaimed that she figured I was just having cramping due to dehydration (it had been a hot day), but that I would be held for a couple of hours to see if labor progressed before being sent home. All of the medical personnel seemed positive that I would be going home - exactly what I didn't want to hear after making the trip and being checked in to the hospital. I work with health insurance; I know how these bills work. There was a chance United Healthcare wouldn't cover much of this visit...yikes.
Turns out I had nothing to worry about! After a couple of hours the nurse checked me again and said I was now at 4 cm. Wow, I was progressing pretty quickly. This was it...we were in for the long haul.
My plan for the labor process was to hold off on drugs as long as possible - until I could no longer stand it anymore. When labor really began to progress, I felt it HARD. I did not have a birth plan on paper but, I knew, and Jace knew, that if the time came I was not opposed to an epidural (it just scared the bejeezes out of me). I had done research on all aspects of the birthing process - all the things that can go wrong and lead to intervention, all of the ways to ease labor pains, the process of labor and birth. I felt pretty prepared, but the whole thing was still scary, since this was my first birthing experience.
Eventually I ended up in the shower with a yoga ball, rocking back and forth to ease the pain. I had started by walking up and down the hallways, holding on to the railings for dear life. There came a time when I knew I couldn't leave the room anymore, because I was howling like a dying wildebeest and I didn't want to scare any other laboring mothers. The shower became my only salvation. The hot water hitting my back took me out of my body (sort of) and to a place of semi-serenity. I was moaning along with contractions, trying to breathe through the pain (hah!) and not lose myself in the abyss. Jace and I "slow-danced" a lot. He held me up and kept me in my body, even though I just wanted to scream and give up.
At a certain point I was pretty much stuck in transition (7-8 cm), the most painful part of labor (also supposed to be the shortest), for hours. I had to have my water broken when I was at 8 cm, which then undialated me back to 7 cm. Then came my mortal enemy, Pitocin. I still had no drugs, so I asked the nurse if the Pit would make the pain worse. She answered that the Pitocin wouldn't do anything like that, it would just speed things up. WRONG. After Pitocin was injected I felt like I was being ripped in half through every contraction. AND there was almost no break in between them after that. Pitocin is a horrible drug that I hope never to have again. Soon I was asking for pain relief - everything was getting too intense.
I got an injection of Fentanyl, which did literally NOTHING. Finally I asked for the epidural. I was scared I may be too far in, but the nurses said no, I still had time and in walked my hero: The Anesthesiologist. ::Cue the heavens opening music and show a ray of light shining down on his head:: He was very nice and got me to a place of nirvana within minutes. I could no longer get up, but I also didn't have the feeling that I wasn't going to survive the birth of my daughter anymore. Life was good again.
I took a short nap to try and get ready for delivery. I knew it was coming soon - the midwife had just told me I was at 9 cm!!!! I was going to do this!!! I had to prepare to push out my little miracle...
But, that's not the way things went. For some reason, a little while after the epidural, Delilah's heart rate shot up to over 220! I watched the nurse looking over the printed readings and saw her tighten up. She soon jumped into action and started gathering everyone together to get me unhooked from all of the monitors. The midwife (Cecelia) had to tell me, with a tone of sadness, that I was headed for an emergency c-section. The baby was in danger and that had to get her out now. I began to bawl. Jace wasn't in the room, but my mom was. She ran out to get him and he met me in the surgical suite.
I was placed on a T-shaped table, I kind of felt like I was on a cross or something, after they rushed me to the surgical suite. I was given a dose of medicine that caused me to shake violently in my upper body throughout the surgery. I was chattering and shaking on the inside - freaking out and trying to stay calm on the inside. Jace was right by my side the whole time, trying to keep me calm. I asked if I would feel anything and they said no, maybe some pressure. They tested me first and I felt nothing below the waist. The surgery commenced.
I will say that the most frustrating thing about my c-section was that I seemed to be having restless leg issues during the surgery, but I could not move my legs and it drove me CRAZY. When your brain can't get your body to do what it wants a panic sets in and then you have to try to calm down so that you don't go insane. I also COULDN'T. STOP. SHAKING!!! I was so freaking uncomfortable, but luckily I felt no pain. I actually barely even felt the pressure when they pulled her out...
...but I did hear her first cry. Then silence. My brain ran through all the worst case scenarios in about half a second. Then her cry started up again and everyone seemed to be okay. She was brought over to me - there are pictures of me with her right after she was born - but I couldn't hold or touch her due to the fact that I was being sewn shut. Delilah and Jace headed to the nursery and I tried hard to hold myself together.
I wanted to look over the blue sheet, but I don't know that I really could have handled seeing myself so exposed. I was CUT OPEN. That has never really sunken in because I had to get over it very quickly in order to take care of a newborn. I was given all sorts of warnings about not getting up for the entire first 24 hours...this was crushing. I couldn't even tend to my crying daughter. Luckily Jace was amazing and he took over while I recuperated (sort of).
Our four days in the hospital were frustrating in that nurses were coming in very often to do tests on me or the baby and we basically got no sleep because of this. Delilah had an issue with her white blood cell count, but they never figured out why. They just made sure to check in on us every four hours and take our vitals to be sure we were healing well.
Getting out of bed was a freaking nightmare. The pain was intense. You don't even know how often you use your core muscles until you aren't supposed to use them anymore. I began to get sharp pains in my lower ab muscles because they were being overworked. It actually felt like something sharp was trying to poke through my skin...that was terrifying. I asked a nurse if some sort of instrument was left in there or something (silly, I know...but the pain was ridiculous). The one thing I really liked at the hospital was the food. Santa Rosa Memorial has some yummy options!
Finally we were allowed to go home (big sigh of relief, but also terror when we realized we were on our own with this baby now). Now, every time I drive by that hospital I can't help but remember this story. I know it's a memory that I will never lose.
In conclusion: Nothing went as I'd hoped and the c-section was traumatizing, but the end result was a million percent worth it.
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| Delilah Rose Bandalin - Born 9/29/2011 |
Thursday, April 26, 2012
How She Came To Be: Part One
I find it fitting that as I started writing this blog John Mayer's "Daughters" began playing on Pandora. From the moment I found out I was pregnant with my first child my life has gone in an amazing direction - the one I had always dreamed of. Sure, I've had my share of hormonal breakdowns and thoughts that I am not very good at this "mom" thing but, every time I see my little girl smile, I know I'm right on track.
I found out that I was pregnant with our first child in January of 2011 (January 25th, to be exact - I still have a note in my phone from that day). We had only been trying to conceive for a little over a month, so imagine my surprise when I went to the gynecologist for a routine exam and found out I was about 3 weeks pregnant!! We were blessed to conceive so quickly. After that day I was so anxious - I had heard many stories of women miscarrying the first child they conceived. For about 3 months I was on the edge of my seat. Soon the morning sickness set in and I knew my little bean wasn't going anywhere.
My pregnancy was blissful. Being pregnant, at least for me, is an amazing feeling. Once the morning sickness subsided, I had nothing but happy news each time I saw my midwife. Some things I hadn't been expecting: I burst a blood vessel in my eye during my vomit-filled first trimester (graphic, I know, but you need to be prepared for these things if you're thinking of becoming a mother...trust me), I craved ranch dressing, guacamole and beans more than anything else (mexican food was my drug of choice for almost 40 weeks), drinking water became impossible during my first trimester - it actually made me sick to think about at that time, my feet were so swollen near the end that I could only wear flip-flops (luckily it was summer). Be ready for anything, ladies! Pregnancy is a wonderful thing, but it can also surprise you.
At 20 weeks my husband and I went in for the ultrasound to find out whether we were having a girl or a boy. We both agreed that either way, we'd be happy...but I REALLY wanted a girl. That day our little baby decided to help the tech figure it out the easy way - her legs were spread, there was no question: we were having a girl! We both made sounds of joy when the tech told us; a little girl! How perfect!! From that day on we spent our time thinking about names, nursery colors, clothes - it was such an exciting time in our lives! Just waiting to meet our little GIRL.
I found out that I was pregnant with our first child in January of 2011 (January 25th, to be exact - I still have a note in my phone from that day). We had only been trying to conceive for a little over a month, so imagine my surprise when I went to the gynecologist for a routine exam and found out I was about 3 weeks pregnant!! We were blessed to conceive so quickly. After that day I was so anxious - I had heard many stories of women miscarrying the first child they conceived. For about 3 months I was on the edge of my seat. Soon the morning sickness set in and I knew my little bean wasn't going anywhere.
My pregnancy was blissful. Being pregnant, at least for me, is an amazing feeling. Once the morning sickness subsided, I had nothing but happy news each time I saw my midwife. Some things I hadn't been expecting: I burst a blood vessel in my eye during my vomit-filled first trimester (graphic, I know, but you need to be prepared for these things if you're thinking of becoming a mother...trust me), I craved ranch dressing, guacamole and beans more than anything else (mexican food was my drug of choice for almost 40 weeks), drinking water became impossible during my first trimester - it actually made me sick to think about at that time, my feet were so swollen near the end that I could only wear flip-flops (luckily it was summer). Be ready for anything, ladies! Pregnancy is a wonderful thing, but it can also surprise you.
At 20 weeks my husband and I went in for the ultrasound to find out whether we were having a girl or a boy. We both agreed that either way, we'd be happy...but I REALLY wanted a girl. That day our little baby decided to help the tech figure it out the easy way - her legs were spread, there was no question: we were having a girl! We both made sounds of joy when the tech told us; a little girl! How perfect!! From that day on we spent our time thinking about names, nursery colors, clothes - it was such an exciting time in our lives! Just waiting to meet our little GIRL.
Eventually we settled on the name Delilah Rose. I've heard people say that this name is a little "grown-up" for a baby, but isn't she going to be an adult someday? I know the Delilah in the bible was a temptress who deceived Samson, but I don't subscribe to the bible - my little girl is her own Delilah, not some storybook character. Most people exclaim that her name is cute or beautiful. I agree. And it fits her quite well. I don't regret our name choice in any way. It's not a common name, but it's not "Pilot Inspektor" or "Apple" either. It's the perfect mix of different and normal - just what I wanted.
I must say, my husband was incredible during my pregnancy. Honestly, every woman should be treated the way I was while she's pregnant. He did extra chores (after working a full day and commuting two hours), bought me cravings foods constantly, did all the shopping, took the harsh words I spewed in my hormonal stupor and never gave me grief...I could not have dreamed up a better father for my daughter in any respect. He even offered to shave my legs if I needed help (I never took him up on it, but the gesture was so sweet). Without him I would have been a mess. And his help didn't wane after Delilah was born. He took on the bulk of the work after I gave birth (more on that later) without complaint. He has also been in love with his daughter since I first told him I was pregnant. He talked to her daily while she was in my belly. He read her stories, sang her songs, danced with her...such heartwarming memories that I will never forget. Our love for each other has grown from this as well. We've been happily married for 2 years (together for 10) but having a child changed us in a good way. We are learning to communicate even better than we did before becoming parents. All of this has just been such a blessing, as well as the most important learning experience of our lives.
Eventually the day came when Delilah chose to enter the world. On to Part Two: The Birth Story...
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| Delilah's Baby Shower - August 21, 2011 |
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