Dear Colin,
What people never tell you when discussing pregnancy and labor is that giving birth to a baby is only half of the...ummm..."experience." Labor scared me, but I had no idea, NO IDEA, that recovery would be so difficult and would take so long. Maybe it is better that way-- not knowing what to expect? For me, the most painful times during labor were receiving the IV and having the nurses check my cervix for dilation. (When I got the IV, your dad almost passed out. They did not let him in the room for the epidural, because watching that would have put him in a coma)
Recovery presents its own set of challenges, and is further complicated by the fact that suddenly, you are now a MOTHER with a demanding infant who is cluster feeding every twenty minutes and refuses to sleep unless you are holding him. I have never before experienced the absolute exhaustion I felt in the days after you were born. Of course, the silver lining to sleep deprivation is you don't remember anything afterwards :)
**Please note that I realize there is a fine line between recording difficult memories and complaining. Your birth story is a positive one. But I do want to remember the difficult times-- for future reference, and because they make sweet times infinitely sweeter.
Physical Recovery was...rough. Because of the epidural, I could not feel or move my right leg for almost twelve hours. The nurses had to cart me in a sort of standing wheelchair to use the restroom. However, unlike when I was pregnant and could basically pee on demand, I found myself unable to pee at all and needed a catheter. (This did not hurt-- I really thought it would.) The nurses said I could not have my IV taken out until I peed three times on my own. (This apparently all the motivation I needed to get my bladder going. That IV was the bane of my entire hospital stay, and I was so happy when it was finally removed.)
Also, let's not make it a habit of talking about my restroom practices here, but since I had an episiotomy, simply using the bathroom required a SO MANY THINGS, including: a squirt bottle, pain relief medication/spray, Tucks, and pads the size of a king-sized mattress. I continued to need these things for about two weeks after you were born. Yuck! The Tucks were for the gnarly hemorrhoids I got from pushing during labor. Those hemorrhoids caused me more grief than anything else, because it was impossible to get into a comfortable sitting position.
I feel like the rest of my physical recovery was pretty typical. My feet remained painfully swollen for about a week after you were born, but returned to normal seemingly overnight. My "cold hands," which I learned was actually pregnancy-induced carpal tunnel, went away after about two or three weeks. At my four week post-partum doctor's appointment, I was only 15 lbs. away from my pre-pregnancy weight. Today (eight weeks out), I think I am down about 10 more (but need to lose much more to reach my ideal weight). I do have permanent stretch marks on my stomach, so thanks for that.
Emotional Recovery was...rougher. In retrospect, I think it is safe to say that I had the "baby blues" for about two weeks after you were born (but not PPD). I cried every time anyone left our house-- friends, family, the newborn photographer, and even a delivery person or two. I cried every single day your dad went to work. I cried while trying to breastfeed you; I cried when I could not breastfeed you; I cried when you feel asleep on my chest; I cried watching your dad play with you. I cried so hard while reading you a Bible story, that I could not make it through the first sentence. So. Much. Crying. It was awful. (I think a big catalyst for my roller coaster emotions was my inability to successfully breastfeed-- which is a story for another day.)
Another thing I found interesting was that for several days after your birth (maybe as many as five or so), I was still in the mindset that I was pregnant. I remember going to get ice cream with your dad and Pops the Friday after you were born and I thought to myself, "I don't care if I don't look my best right now. I'm pregnant. Oh, wait...I'm not pregnant!" Or, I would think to myself, "You shouldn't eat/drink/do this because it's not good for the baby. Oh, wait...the baby was born last week and this won't impact him one way or the other."
I finally started to feel like myself around the four week mark when I started showering regularly, sleeping in my own bed, and felt brave enough to venture out of the house with you in tow. However, to this day, I still do not really feel like a "mom." Even though I've been planning and preparing for this new role for the better part of a year, it's a difficult transition to wrap my head around for some reason. I have a son?!? I'm a mom?!? When your dad or grandparent are talking to you and reference "mommy," it takes a second before I realize, "Oh! That's me!"
Right now we are still trying to figure each other out, but things get easier, sweeter, and more fun every day. I know that this life-long love was worth every bit of pain and discomfort, and I would do it all over again in a heart beat.
Love,
Mom
**Please note that I realize there is a fine line between recording difficult memories and complaining. Your birth story is a positive one. But I do want to remember the difficult times-- for future reference, and because they make sweet times infinitely sweeter.
Physical Recovery was...rough. Because of the epidural, I could not feel or move my right leg for almost twelve hours. The nurses had to cart me in a sort of standing wheelchair to use the restroom. However, unlike when I was pregnant and could basically pee on demand, I found myself unable to pee at all and needed a catheter. (This did not hurt-- I really thought it would.) The nurses said I could not have my IV taken out until I peed three times on my own. (This apparently all the motivation I needed to get my bladder going. That IV was the bane of my entire hospital stay, and I was so happy when it was finally removed.)
Also, let's not make it a habit of talking about my restroom practices here, but since I had an episiotomy, simply using the bathroom required a SO MANY THINGS, including: a squirt bottle, pain relief medication/spray, Tucks, and pads the size of a king-sized mattress. I continued to need these things for about two weeks after you were born. Yuck! The Tucks were for the gnarly hemorrhoids I got from pushing during labor. Those hemorrhoids caused me more grief than anything else, because it was impossible to get into a comfortable sitting position.
I feel like the rest of my physical recovery was pretty typical. My feet remained painfully swollen for about a week after you were born, but returned to normal seemingly overnight. My "cold hands," which I learned was actually pregnancy-induced carpal tunnel, went away after about two or three weeks. At my four week post-partum doctor's appointment, I was only 15 lbs. away from my pre-pregnancy weight. Today (eight weeks out), I think I am down about 10 more (but need to lose much more to reach my ideal weight). I do have permanent stretch marks on my stomach, so thanks for that.
Emotional Recovery was...rougher. In retrospect, I think it is safe to say that I had the "baby blues" for about two weeks after you were born (but not PPD). I cried every time anyone left our house-- friends, family, the newborn photographer, and even a delivery person or two. I cried every single day your dad went to work. I cried while trying to breastfeed you; I cried when I could not breastfeed you; I cried when you feel asleep on my chest; I cried watching your dad play with you. I cried so hard while reading you a Bible story, that I could not make it through the first sentence. So. Much. Crying. It was awful. (I think a big catalyst for my roller coaster emotions was my inability to successfully breastfeed-- which is a story for another day.)
Another thing I found interesting was that for several days after your birth (maybe as many as five or so), I was still in the mindset that I was pregnant. I remember going to get ice cream with your dad and Pops the Friday after you were born and I thought to myself, "I don't care if I don't look my best right now. I'm pregnant. Oh, wait...I'm not pregnant!" Or, I would think to myself, "You shouldn't eat/drink/do this because it's not good for the baby. Oh, wait...the baby was born last week and this won't impact him one way or the other."
I finally started to feel like myself around the four week mark when I started showering regularly, sleeping in my own bed, and felt brave enough to venture out of the house with you in tow. However, to this day, I still do not really feel like a "mom." Even though I've been planning and preparing for this new role for the better part of a year, it's a difficult transition to wrap my head around for some reason. I have a son?!? I'm a mom?!? When your dad or grandparent are talking to you and reference "mommy," it takes a second before I realize, "Oh! That's me!"
Right now we are still trying to figure each other out, but things get easier, sweeter, and more fun every day. I know that this life-long love was worth every bit of pain and discomfort, and I would do it all over again in a heart beat.
Love,
Mom
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