Strength and Forgiveness

Although I had been luckier than a lot of women throughout my pregnancy I had still not enjoyed a large portion of those long 9 months. I had been so looking forward to Charli’s arrival, not only to meet little miss but to be physically well & capable in myself; something I had not felt in the longest time.

So when I went to leave my bed an hour or so hour post birth & could not stand on my own two feet, I was unimpressed. The nurses explained - after I almost slid right off the bed - that the epidural would inhibit me for a while longer. I needed a shower & had to enlist the help of my Mum, a midwife and a shower chair. I also noticed that having been mostly awake for going on 37 hours & pumped full of different drugs along the way – I was extremely weak in general & not confident to hold my baby girl. I was unable to care for her on her first night in the world, which broke my heart a little. Insert reliable Husband who set himself up across 2 very uncomfortable chairs & stayed the night by our side, seeing to both of our needs.

I remember one of my sisters giving birth to her son & only hours later when we went to visit; she was sitting cross-legged on her hospital bed, bright-eyed & happy, waiting to be discharged. Although I was under no illusion that labour would be easy, this was my post-labour expectation. I was to be sorely disappointed…

Charli & I spent the next 2 full days in hospital. Between my catheter, the very tender epidural site, the 2^nd degree tear, my legs still heavy from drugs & not having moved for so long, along with the tender and icky belly; it’s safe to say I was a little bit of a mess. To be able to enjoy Charli & look after myself properly was the light at the end of my tunnel. Little did I know things were about to get much worse and very quickly.

Finally home, I woke up at 5:07am on Day 4. After checking on Charli & putting Husband on baby alert I settled in on the couch - a harder task than one would imagine. I had to find a way to sit just so to make sure the swelling/stitches situation was at minimum ouch.

At Charli’s midnight feed I had started to feel that my boobs were super sore & even laying on my side was uncomfortable. I had heard about filling nappies with water and putting them in the freezer for icing down engorged breasts to help with the discomfort. So there I sat on a very cold July morning trying to balance the frozen nappies on the by then very tender boobs & still keep as warm as possible.

Although feeling quite a mess, I had big plans for the day ahead. We would take Charli to see the Child Health Nurse, I would go to the doctor to ask for medication to stop the lactation (which I had asked for in the hospital & been talked around not needing as “you should be fine as long as you don’t have them under a warm shower & don’t encourage the supply.”) Jake & I would also catch up on some much needed grocery shopping.

It all went to shit. Firstly we missed my doctor’s appointment which didn’t seem to be a huge problem until about 2 hours later when we were in the middle of Woolies where my milk came in & I was suddenly flushed & feeling sick. To add to the mix, we had picked the trolley from hell & since Charli could smell my milk & would scream the shop down if she came near me, I was stuck pushing it... By the time we had added a slab of bottled water and a bag of dog food my still recovering body was struggling to push the weight along & counter the dodgy wheel.

Well. We were those people. With the inconsolable 3-day-old that was Screaming. Not crying. Screaming.

3 aisles left; there was no way this bitch was leaving without finishing the job, so we battled on.

I was a blubbering mess by the time we were in the car coming home, not only could I not hold my daughter but I just felt generally miserable in myself.

Pulling into our street I was treated to the most relieving sight - my Mum’s car. She had swung in as she had been nearby & knew we should be almost home. I stumbled out of the car & all but collapsed in her arms. Thank god for Mum, really. She called the doctor as I desperately rushed into the shower & ran cold water over my now throbbing boobs. They were leaking milk everywhere I turned. Mum drove me to the doctor. I have a male GP who is absolutely amazing & visibly flinched when I pulled up my top to show him what was happening. I had Mastitis – bad. Immediately I was rushed to get a script for antibiotics, as well as medication to stop my milk coming in & something to help with the pain. Back home, once again Jake was on full time baby duty (after putting frozen cabbage on my boobs of course, which was supposed to ease the pain) With hubby going solo as a parent for the second time in the very week she was born, I knocked myself out with panadine forte & slept the pain away.

One thing I had been extremely aware of was the impending doom that was the first post-partum bowel movement… And I had prepared. I had eaten so much fruit & having taken so much panadine forte, had even gone as far as downing a whole packet of sugar-free lollies to make things as painless as possible. It didn’t go too badly and my fruit/lolly combo done exactly what I had intended… but STILL, after all that effort - haemorrhoids. I’d had them since late in the pregnancy & obviously 90 minutes of pushing during labour hadn’t helped that situation, but they had been pretty dormant after birth. Not sure if purely from being outdone by the rest of my ailments or if they just weren’t too bad. But now, they were back and most uncomfortable. Having mastered the art of sitting to avoid hurting my stitches I now had to adjust & find a way to sit that didn’t stir up either of the downstairs issues…

Thankfully by the next day, although still extremely tender, I was able to function without the sheer weight of engorged breasts making me tear up & had found a bearable position I could sit in. So of course, with the pain killers making things doable, I pushed my limits. I cleaned my entire house. From top to bottom, starting at like 3am. By the afternoon I was shattered & could feel my body starting to ache & throb… more pain killers down the hatch and thank Christ, because my body did not like the excessive activity. You see, after-birth pains are a thing. Did anyone else know that? I sure as shit didn’t until I was curled up in a ball on my bed yelling at my Husband to call the doctor because how can it possibly feel like I’m going into labour again?? It ended up passing quite quickly & I’m sure that was due to the timely taking of pain killers. The day after that I was not so lucky & ended up in a ball once again, this time on my lounge room floor, amidst guests. Just keeping it classy. The pains lasted much longer this time but thankfully were the last bad bought.

Now the medication I was taking to stop my breast milk coming in seemed to be working its magic but by the Sunday I realised it was making me quite lethargic & uncoordinated. With Jake headed back to work I had to stop taking them to look after Charli. This meant prolonging the lactation. Yay. Like I didn’t have enough stained crop-tops. Luckily the mastitis went away with one course of antibiotics. Not so lucky was the second course of antibiotics that I needed a few days later because my stitches were infected…

Basically it never seemed to end. And it hasn’t. Here I am 3 and a half weeks post birth, just finding out yesterday that the antibiotics have now given me thrush. My milk has not yet completely gone & is still making nice yellow marks all over my bras. I haven’t even started to worry about getting rid of the haemorrhoids yet…

We are getting there. Slowly, but surely. I have to interject here and say that without the patience & unbelievable care of my Husband & my Mum, I don’t know how I would have made it through all of this. Thank you from the bottom of my heart for everything. From getting the washing off to talking on the phone when I thought I might pass out on the toilet & especially for being there 120% for Charli when I couldn’t.

On the days I have felt physically defeated – leading so easily to being emotionally & mentally defeated, I have to remember one very simple fact. I had a baby. I harboured my little she-beast all the way to term & gave birth, one of the most beautiful & also one of the cruellest things my body has ever been through. The last 3 plus weeks have not been a result of my body’s weakness but of its strength. And although I probably would have told you differently at the time, I would do it all again; to hear her precious little squeaks, see her beautiful little face, watch her grow & learn so much so quickly. We aren’t even a month in. I have years ahead to appreciate the amazing little girl that is currently lining her nappy right next to me.

So give me the 3 weeks. I’ll cry & hurt & be incapacitated. And I’ll forgive myself all of it for the absolutely astounding feat my body has endured. I’ll also have one of the most incredible gifts life can offer, being a Mum.

Most of all though, I have Charli. My world is better by far every single day.

The things no one can ever tell you

Every pregnancy, labour & birth story are different. In saying that, no amount of story-telling & sharing different experiences can possibly prepare you for your own. This story is mine alone & I'm sharing it because I love it & I am amazed by it even now.

This is a follow on from my very first post on this blog. I left that at square on midnight when I was tucked into my hospital bed by a wonderful nurse. She had made every effort to make me comfortable through my pains that had quickly gone from irregular & notable to consistent & increasingly uncomfortable. I'm a lightweight for drugs - a half of a Panadeine Forte can tide me through most pains & sometimes put me to sleep. I had been given a full 2 of these on top of a sleeping tablet to put me out for what remained of the night.

Approximately 40 minutes after my tuck-in & pain relief I was doing laps of my hospital room. I don't remember sending Jake a message: "Holy crap J, this pain is really intense & it's only the beginning". I do remember finally hitting my buzzer for a nurse - the same bed-tucker-inerer came to see me. She watched me do a lap of the room as I explained that my pain was becoming much more frequent & intense. After another one of those lovely examinations to check if I was any more dilated, she told me to wait until she rang through to birth suites & she would let me know when to call my Husband to come in. I waited. I paced. That is all I remember until I was finally given the okay to call Jake. I had no concept of time then but I now know that I had walked around the small circle of my hospital room for over 2 hours. I called Jake & apparently told him to "Call Mum & tell her to get ready. Come in now" This happened just as a midwife named Lauren came & walked me down to Birth Suites.

As I walked into the suite where I would give birth, my waters broke. I dropped drawers & the nurse calmly told me that Charli had done a poo in the womb and would need to be monitored throughout the labour. That really went over my head a little at the time. Not for lack of knowing that it wasn't ideal for bub, but because all I could think of was how to deal with the pain I was in right then.

Heat is my friend where pain is concerned - I've always relied on hot baths & heat packs to soothe whatever aches & pains I have. Throughout my pregnancy & in the lead up to birth, I had strongly opted for not having an epidural. I knew that statistically an epidural could lead to a cesarean, something I did not want to recover from, especially with Jake having so little time off work post birth. I had told Jake a number of times that if it came to him having to advocate for me, to not let me get an epidural. We had packed Jake's board-shorts & rashie so that he could get into the bath or shower with me if I needed him to - that was my plan - the shower, the bath & a lot of walking.

So, after being told Charli would need to be monitored for the remainder of the labour, I simply asked when I could get in the bath. The midwife followed up with "You won't be able to get in the bath because we need to be able to monitor baby." 

I remember a little bit of the panic starting right then. How was I supposed to go through this without my damn bath!? I strongly felt the need to have warmth on every part of my body below the chest. My reaction was to then demand a shower as I paced the room, to which the midwife replied that they would need a waterproof monitor which they would have to find. Until then I needed to come to the bed & either lay or stand beside it - I could not pace the room right now - I needed to be on the monitor.

At this I mustered all of the calm that I could & stood at the side of the bed using it to lean & sway, taking side to side steps holding onto the thought that I would be in the shower soon & that would help.

Suddenly I was alone. There was no one in the birth-suite, which seemed to have grown into an abyss of cold & discomfort. The panic really set in. I remember calling out "Hello!" a few times before simply getting the shits:

"Would someone PLEASE HELP!!"

Lauren the midwife then came back into the room, a little miffed that I was yelling at her. This was the conversation that followed:

Lauren: "We are very busy down here tonight" 

Brain: Well excuse me for having a baby...

Me: "When can I get in the shower?"

Lauren: "There are no water-proof monitors; you can't get in the shower"

Brain: Noooononononono. 

More panic sets in.

Me: "Give me gas then, I can't do this, I need gas."

Wordless shitty-at-the-labouring-woman Lauren wheels over the gas & gives me the tube. It really does jack shit for me at the time. I suck on the mouthpiece as hard as I can but given I have gotten myself into a full on panic by this point, it wasn’t much help. It also began to make me very dizzy and I could not stand independently.

So there I was, draped over the edge of the bed with monitors swinging off me everywhere, sucking on a tube that seemed to only be making it harder to deal with the pain, not helping it. I could not get to the bath, the shower or even pace the room & I kept being left on my own. With all of my coping mechanisms stripped away, panic was now at top notch. All I can remember saying the next time I was graced with Lauren's presence was “I can’t do it, get the epidural now."

After being promised she would get it organised, she offered me some morphine. What's that? Another drug to help me deal with this blinding pain? Yes, please. Shoot me up, sister!

Jake and Mum arrive & I am then given the morphine, but not before making it perfectly clear to Jake that after all of my ranting about not having an epidural, I was having one & this was not one of those times when I say I'm not okay & he can then follow up with "You're okay". He got the message straight away...
I don't remember most of the rest first hand; to me it was just black, contraction & black again. Jake told me that during the hours that followed before an epidural was finally administered, he was on heat pack duty, holding a pack to my abdomen the entire time in the most awkward position possible. Mum remained across the bed from me, giving my gas when a contraction would come. I cried when Jake recounted what had transpired in those wee morning hours. He told me I would rouse on him if the heat pack went into slightly the wrong spot & also that I had told my Mum to please get the gas tube out of my face. I don't recall a very large portion of this time & cringe to think that I was in such a place to be so rude to my support team. I do recall calling out to Mum every time she let go of my hand, "Don't leave me" even though she was only going to get more water or ice.

Finally an anaesthetist arrived, I don't know how but I was suddenly in a sitting position on the side of the bed. Having watched an epidural be administered before, I knew that I had to stay as still as possible so I would panic when a contraction would come on as they were working. Mum & Jake were holding a hand each when suddenly my 6'3" Husband started to get light-headed. Having next to no sleep himself & nothing to eat he was on his way to passing out when they nurse quickly pushed a chair in behind him & rushed to get a cordial. Poor waif.

Suddenly it's daylight, Lauren the cranky midwife has left & there are now 2 ladies seeing to me - a midwife & student. They have checked my cervix again & we have reached 8cm. I am finally becoming more aware of what is going on & am able to hold conversations. Jake had contacted Lana, my best friend who had long ago organised to take photos at the birth. Lana was on her way to the hospital & now that I was no longer in pain, Mum & Jake were organising themselves food & coffee. I chugged some Gatorade to get my energy up & started to notice my breathing was funny. Panic setting in again, I told the nurses how I felt & they quickly got to work - the epidural had worked a little too well. My chest was numb & although my body was doing the action of breathing & I was getting all of the oxygen I needed - I couldn't feel it.

It took some time but the drug started to ease off, getting lower & lower in my body. This was tested with little ice packets. If I could feel the cold, it had worn off... 

To me the hours went quickly then - they had taken the epidural drug way down & I could feel contractions now & needed gas to work through them. In all of the time that had passed, though - my labour had slowed right down, just as I had feared it would after having an epidural. In went the hormone drip to get things happening again. It worked.

The doctor on duty who insisted on being called "Matt" was a godsend. He had been there for a previous presentation during pregnancy & both Jake & I had been so impressed with his demeanour & care we had jokingly said we would have to arrange to give birth while he was on shift. Our little wish-joke had come true. Matt had been in & out of the room during the day, checking on things always with a kind word to me & a pat on the leg. Now he strode in full of purpose, clapping his hands together - "Let's get this baby out!"

Sure thing, Dr Matt.

Although I could now feel my contractions I wasn't confident of when I should push & the student midwife coached me through the entire process. I'd check if it was okay to go & I would push with everything I had. For the longest time leading up to labour, I had been so concerned about making sure I was wearing a decent crop-top. Some of mine are slightly see-through & knowing Lana would be taking photos, I wanted to be covered up. But as I went from on my back, to my side, to all fours, the hospital gown was stripped away. So there I ended up completely starkers with 4 nurses, 2 doctors, a paediatrician & my support team watching. I simply didn't care.

After an hour and a half of pushing, I had completely lost hope. To me, I had pushed with absolutely all my might & there had been little to no progress. I felt like it was never going to work. Back onto my back now, I could see Dr Matt making a cutting motion with his fingers. While they prepared to give me an episiotomy, another contraction came on and with a little help from Dr Matt, Charli suddenly came into the world.

At 3:17pm on July 24th my little girl was born. The umbilical cord that was wrapped around her neck was pulled free & she was laid on my chest where she uttered her first little cry. I can't begin to describe the feelings & thoughts that encompassed me at that point. I just know that my entire being shifted in an instant, I now had a new purpose & I embraced that with so much love & contentment I never knew existed.

These are the things no one can ever tell you. From the intense depths of labour to the sudden expansion of your heart that accommodates so much love for this tiny little being, you think you may have even grown a second one... This is something only each person can experience themselves & it is one of the most overwhelmingly amazing things I have ever felt in my life.

Somehow my heart still seems to grow every day, this tiny little person fills it up even more every moment. I am so lucky to be a Mum & can't wait to see what happens in the rest of the adventure of Mummy-hood.

The Beginning of the Beginning...

Last Friday night my husband & I decided we would drive to Hastings Point the following morning. This is a beach/inlet some 60 minutes south of us but we were determined to take the dogs to the beach for a run before baby arrived as we would not get a chance for a long time. We packed my miniature kite, a fossiking bucket (which had been used throughout my entire pregnancy as a spew vessel) & some snacks for the road... 

The best laid plans of mice & men.

At 4am the day of our hopeful little family outing I put myself in a bath. Since 27 weeks pregnant I had had issues with an "irritable uterus" & constant urinary tract infections. It felt similar, if a little more painful. There were contractions or "tightenings" as some of the medical world prefer you to call them when you're not having an "active" labour.
At this point, with the warm water over my belly, usually things ease off. Being 39+4 weeks pregnant at this point & told for so long how I could not possibly go to term, I was now a non-believer. Every time this kind of thing happened I rolled my eyes & waited for it to pass - "just another day harbouring the she-beast" I would tell myself & those around me. The pains didn't ease this time but stayed steadily at the same level of pain, although very irregular. I called my Mum about mid-morning who said "This could be it!" I didn't really want to hope after all of the disappointing hospital trips & days of sitting around in the same situation. Mum suggested a walk to move things along.

After our sudden change in plans we hadn't gotten our mutts out for their run at the beach so Jake harnessed them up & on a walk we went. It was cute, my Husband leaning way back to counter the pull of our ferociously strong Maggie, me bumbling a pace or so short of them with what felt like a beach ball packed to bursting with cement under my dress. Nelson, usually quite idiotic & excitable, still crazy happy but stopping to look back on me every few steps, as if I was going to disappear...

One successful walk & a shower later... I lay down, noting it was almost midday. I sat bolt upright in the middle of trying to have a rest. It had been almost 8 hours since i had first gotten in the bath... I had not felt movement from Charli that whole time & could not for the life of me recall if there had been activity in the nighttime hours. I rang the hospital & was advised to come in immediately to check on bub.

By the time we made it to the hospital, my belly was so tight the midwife had trouble feeling where Charli was laying. For the past 12 weeks every time they checked Charli's heart rate, she was in the exact same spot so I directed the midwife to where I knew she would be. Monitor in place & I heard nothing... The midwife checked the opposite side to find my daughters heart beating strong & regular as ever. A flurry of tears escaped me as I released a tension & dread I hadn't realised had built up so strong.

Things happened very quickly from there... We stayed on the monitor, Charli remained very quiet with her movements. An ultrasound & some discussion later they wanted to examine the cervix & see whether there was activity there. The head doctor wanted to do this examination himself & proceeded to on the spot. Much to Jake & my disbelief, he announced that I was 3cm dilated. Before we had time to comprehend, he then conducted a surprise "stretching" to this part of my anatomy which made my eyes water. While I was blinking myself back into the world he casually stripped off his gloves and stated "We will admit you overnight & see what happens. We may have to send you home in the morning if things don't progress, but I'd say baby will be born in the next 24 hours..."

Under the impression this would just be another false alarm we had brought nothing to the hospital with us. This meant a run home for Jake to grab everything. With the possibility of having no further activity we told only a few people about the situation as it unfolded. Jake stayed with me until after visiting hours finished & left for home at something like 9pm. There had been no changes in the pains or frequency since 4am, so I was fairly certain I would be sent home the next morning to wait things out...

11:22pm - Jake & I say goodnight via messages after I say that my pain is uncomfortable & I might ask the nurses for something so that I at least get some sleep. I do this, the beautiful nurse that was on could see how uncomfortable I was & even tucked me in to bed with heat packs in all the right places. By this time it's midnight & I drift off to sleep on what would be my last day as just me. Tomorrow I would become a Mum.

Part 2 soon to follow...