Chronicles of Motherhood - Part 2

Happy mom, happy baby! No?

April 26, 2019. "It's 7am on MY BIRTHDAY woo hoo!  My contractions are 5-3 minutes apart, but I am not dilated enough. Still at 2 cm. Michael and I have been in the maternity ward of Celebration Hospital since 11pm last night. He's asleep on the recliner. My mother arrived 1 hr ago. She's asleep on the couch. I thought this would be over by now. I'm always waiting the longest for everything!" - excerpt from Notes app on the phone.

I always seem to wait the longest for things that other people get around to doing much earlier than me in their life. If you struggle with anxiety you know how it is, overthinking everything, over-worrying and keeping busy thinking and analyzing things instead of actually doing. I guess it's one way to explain why I'm 34 and having my first child. I mean, there's so many reasons... But we're not here to talk about that. We're here to talk about Elijah Michael; a handsome 9 lbs baby boy who changed everything for me.

This is his first day.

An entire day went by with steady contractions and slow increase in dilation. 24 hrs after being signed into the ward I was at 6 cm and my water had broken. I read the book, but somehow in the moment, I forgot what to expect, and just surrendered to the nurses and decided I was going to remain calm, give baby boy a chance to decide when he's ready and follow the nurse's lead. It felt odd relinquishing control, but let's be honest, labor takes over your whole self with commotion and powerful pain; all I wanted to do was breathe and for it to be over. At the same time, I had to remind myself and keep calm about the fact that I didn't take labor classes, I didn't research any breathing exercises, I didn't practice pregnancy yoga with Michael or whatever else people do to "be prepared". I swear, I only read the book and asked around; and I didn't realize it until right then. So, let's add panic to everything else. One of the nurses suggested my anxiety may be the reason why my labor was not advancing and progressing fast enough. She didn't ask me anything about it, she probably just saw my deer-in-the-headlights stare into oblivion, looked at my monitors and knew I was in my head. I guess I wasn't as calm as I thought.  In all fairness, my water had broken hours ago and I had a fever. Nobody told me I could get a fever while in labor, or that I would need antibiotics. It truly is a lot going on, way too fast. Not fast enough, though; but baby was good. Baby was still chilling and seemingly in no hurry to come meet his earthly parents. I kept telling myself (him), we're ready for you. Still he wouldn't come until after 28 hrs of "passive labor" which is what they call whatever pain or discomfort you go through while opening up to 7cm dilated. I never made it to that point. Baby pooped inside, which could be deadly for him; and within 40 minutes he was out via c-section.  WELCOME TO THE WORLD!!!

9lbs 21"

You know how in movies they smack a baby's bootie to make them cry if they come out quiet and still? Well, the Dr. didn't do that to Elijah, he didn't cry until he was being cleaned up. I remember Michael saying "he's the quietest baby I've ever seen". I guess he takes after me because I was so stunned I couldn't say anything either. I was too busy focused on the fact that I couldn't feel or move my arms. Apparently I'm allergic to the anesthesia so, let's pile on the drama! *Sigh*, what a sweet, quiet baby he was! Even after complications with his breathing, he was still the quietest baby in the NICU. At some point I thought, is he OK? Is this a blessing? Or, is he gonna wake up for real and roar like most babies do? They took him away just 4 hours after he was born, because he couldn't breathe. The cherry on top of a long and painful labor. He had water in his lungs. Literally all babies do. In utero they breathe water! However, the fact that he didn't make it through my birth canal, thus undergoing an incredible amount of pressure that comes with each push, as he should have made his way out; followed by that intense final push that would have propelled him out with such force that he would have gasped for air and screamed real loud; is what caused all that fluid to stay trapped in his lungs.  Did I do this to him? Did I sabotage a good old-fashioned birth by taking forever, and now he's sick? I prayed and remained calm as the NICU Dr. explained that this was very common and should clear out in a couple of days.  Needless to say, I was not OK.

Seeing him with oxygen, a feeding tube, multiple monitors and pricked on the foot every 2 hours to check his blood sugar was too much for me. I was astounded. I didn't want to bother my baby any more than he already was, so I didn't go to the NICU to breastfeed him. I just pumped and pumped and pumped and pumped, and went to see him for some skin on skin, quiet, tender time together, without moving him too much, scared to hurt his tiny IV or bother his sore feet.  So many feelings!!! My c-section was incredibly sore, my feet were super swollen because no one told me to wear compression socks, and I was not with my baby so.........

I mean, you be the judge! Would you bug this sleeping baby? No right?

A week later we were both released from the hospital and on we went home. My mother was still with us, and what a blessing that was. I never knew the value of having family close by, until now. We were able to manage well with everything regarding baby's comfort and my c-section recovery; everything but breastfeeding. We drove to lactation group sessions, nothing. An expert came to the house to help me one-on-one; nothing. I breathed in and out and seemed confident but I was constantly reminded that if baby felt my anxiety he wouldn't latch, so if he wasn't latching that means I had anxiety, even if I denied it, which I wasn't I just didn't feel anxiety, I felt calm and tried to understand the process as patiently as possible. So, there it was again, my anxiety getting in the way. I supplemented with formula, pumped as often as I was told to pump and reminded myself that a fed, healthy baby was more important. I would breathe in and out and work on my anxiety while feeling my breasts oozing for my baby who wouldn't latch. It's OK. Clearly, I was traumatized from the labor & delivery debacle.  How did I get through it? I didn't get fixated or obsessed with either one way of doing things. A lactation consultant told me to "go with the flow" and follow my baby's lead. So I kept reminding myself to do that.

Mother's Day 2019, 2-weeks-old

My mother would make fun of me. She'd say "Poor bebé! He will never learn to talk if you don't talk to him. Your mama doesn't talk to you bebé she's perplexed!" And I was! I was in awe of him. I watched him, and read him and thought to myself, how can I help him thrive? What does he need? He needs me, happy, playful, smiley, talkative, loving. He doesn't need me freaking out! I definitely had enough with his own crying I didn't have to throw tantrums too. What does he need? He needs to be fed, cuddles, lullabies, books, warm baths, music, love. I stared at my now 4-weeks-old baby boy and decided if we didn't manage to latch by my trip to Puerto Rico, a week later, I would give it up and move on.  I don't care about many slogans but "Fed is best" became a mantra. "Happy mom, happy baby" were words I would start to meditate and ponder on constantly.  I reminded myself that my hormones would be wacky for months. I gave myself grace and reminded myself every day to be patient. Always studying my baby, internalizing my new calling.  I was working full time caring and nurturing my child; and working overtime on trying to understand my anxiety and every new experience. I took note of everything and read as much as I could about this tiny little human in my arms.

 Elijah meets the Caribbean.

For that last week our interactions with breast milk became more of a ritualistic, nostalgic thing. I felt relief every time I mixed those precious, yet few ounces of breast milk with formula and he would take it and be content, and cozy and so perfect. I hated pumping. I knew that the muscles in  his mouth could do a better job. In all honesty, I felt utterly miserable pumping every 2 hours. Never more than 3 oz, because my milk didn't "come down" like they call it. I mean they really described a current-like sensation I would feel from my neck down, and then my breasts would open up like a faucet and the milk would flow. Well, that never happened. He didn't have an overbite, he didn't have a lip tie either. He was just chill and content and didn't care for latching, it seems. A week later we were already weened off of breast milk and on our flight to Puerto Rico. Just baby and me, on our very first adventure together! I never knew how brave I was!  For the first time in my life I felt strong and capable. I felt pain and moved past it. I felt exhaustion and still reacted and tended to my baby's needs. I truly felt like wonder woman! Me, the late bloomer, I felt empowered for the first time at 34, thanks to my son!

Time-lapse to April, 2020 and it's my birthday again. What a blur of songs and books and memories glued to a scrapbook that I will treasure forever. This was the hardest year. This was the best year! My friends came over and sang happy birthday while social distancing because of Covid19. Tomorrow is my son's birthday and there's no family coming, just us. The biggest development on my own quarantine celebration, was driving 1hr to pick up his birthday cake for the next day. I guess this will be a new tradition? Probably until he's old enough to ask for a home-baked cake and I won't have the heart to refuse him because he is my little prince and he deserves all that is good. How amazing that now my life revolves around him, forever. Talk about "role of a lifetime" or "the shoes you were born to fill". If it weren't for him I wouldn't know myself the way I do today. It's all for him, and it's all worth it!

Happy Birthday Mama! - College Park, Orlando

If you struggle with anxiety, I want to know you. If you are pregnant and experiencing anxiety, I want to hear from you. If you just gave birth and you're experiencing PPD, speak up! This is normal, but it's not who we are. There's a way around it, even if it's a daily struggle. Below are some great resources if you'd rather reach out to a professional. Talking to my friends, and a lot of introspection has worked wonders for me. Aside from the endless list of techniques to manage my anxiety. You're so strong, stronger than you think! Don't lose hope! You're an amazing mother, friend and woman! We are in this together!

If you struggle with anxiety/mental health:

www.betterhelp.com

If you are experiencing Post Partum Depression:

Call or Text!