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 2nd
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.
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