Second Time Shadows

For the past 2+ years I have been very involved in the maternal mental health world. I have rubbed shoulders with some pretty impressive people in this field. I have been a leader for Climb out of the Darkness, one of the largest events for postpartum depression awareness, for two years. I have been interviewed for the newspaper and TV news. I have helped start a support group that is actually pretty successful and well attended. For being "just a mom" I have done a lot, and I have learned a lot more. I have talked to numerous strangers that postpartum mood or anxiety disorders doesn't just have to be feeling sad, there is so much more to them, and that THERE IS HOPE. It does get better. Someone once described me as a "postpartum powerhouse." I have found my passion.

However, I have also found my vice. I know the signs. I know the feelings. And here I am 3 weeks postpartum seeing the signs in myself. The intrusive thoughts. The numb feeling. And lets not forget the endless amount of tears that are shed in the shower. I know whats going on. And yet, I don't want to admit it. Why? Because of the dang stigma of mental health that I have been trying to fight. I don't want to be seen as someone who needs help. I don't want to acknowledge that it has hit me again.

And that is the beauty of the beast. It doesn't discriminate. It doesn't care who I am, or what I have done. It is up to me to do the things I know I need to do. I am the one who needs to keep going to support group. I need to admit that I could use help.  I need to do my best to not close myself off to others. That is one of my biggest fears. Last time I had no choice but to get up every day and go to nursing school and at least for those hours pretend that I was normal and in control of my brain. I had a distraction. Now, my distraction is.... I don't know what it is, but I need to find one. Most importantly, I need to find a good therapist.

What can you do? Spend time with me. Give me something to look forward to and give me a reason to get out of my yoga pants. Give me a quick text. See a funny cat joke and tag me in it. If you ask me how I am don't expect an answer more than good or fine. Its not that I am purposefully trying to be deceitful, I'm just so used to telling myself that I am fine it just comes out. Or I just don't feel like talking about it or crying again. But do give me a hug no matter what my answer is. You will soon know if I'm having a normal day or an off day. The good news is that I have been having far more good days than bad.

The even better news is that I have conquered this once before. I can surely do it again. And I will. Just give me time. I am, after all, a warrior mom.

so I had a baby...

So I had my 39 week appointment and baby was measuring 7 lbs 11 oz. With my history of my inversion she didn't want baby to get too much bigger I waited a few days to hopefully go into labor and nothing happened. The day before my due date I went back and my midwife did a membrane sweep to hopefully push things along. I was a little bit crampy but nothing too bad. But every night I would have contractions for a few hours, I would go to sleep thinking this is it, this is the night I'm going to go into labor. And every morning  I would wake up disappointed.


Tuesday at 40 weeks 3 days I went back to my midwife. She did another sweep and I was dilated to a 3 and 80% effaced. They scheduled me for an induction at 9 that night. I didn't request one, but she said they called for one later in the week and the hospital didn't have any. And I would be induced at 41 weeks anyways. Baby was growing pretty big and she didn't want it to stress out my uterus having a large baby. I talked it over with my midwife because she knew I wanted to stay away from Pitocin. So we decided that with sweeping my membrane, all she would probably need to do is break my water. She said if I start to get contractions that don't go away to go in before 9. And so I finally had an end date. I was going to meet my baby so very soon.

Chris took the day off so we just went home and cleaned up a few things and got our bags all fully ready. Around 12:30 I started to notice contractions that kept coming. I didn't want to time them yet. Around 1:30 I laid down and put on some music. Contractions were coming about every 2 songs and didn't stop, and usually they would when I would lay down. I text my doula just to give her a heads up, even though she was planning on being at the hospital with the induction.  We left around 3 to pick up Zoey from school and brought all our things with us just in case. We picked her up and got ice cream as our last outing as a family of 4. Contractions were still going but I wasn't timing them. I didn't want to start worrying about them getting closer or what not.

We went to my in-laws to have dinner and eventually drop off our girls for their sleep over. Around 5 I told Chris we should just go to the hospital. I felt better being there since I have never been in labor before on my own and I really didn't want to go fast once things started going and not be there. We get to the hospital around 5:45 and they said they would just admit me instead of making me go through triage to see if I am in labor  just to admit me anyways later on. It took about an hour to get fully admitted, and around 7:05 they checked me and I was a 4 and 80%, so stuff was definitely happening. My contractions weren't real consistent time wise, but happening. Since I was going natural, I was allowed to be off the monitors. My nurse put in the IV and I was really excited that she picked the vein I thought they would. Its a nurse thing....and its a really good vein if I do say so myself.

 Karen, my doula, arrived around 8 and gave me a foot rub on pressure points that helps with labor. The reason was to help my contractions, but really, she just gives good foot rubs and my feet really hurt. At 9PM my midwife came to check on things. She checked me and I was a 5 and she broke my water. I knew that things would start to kick into gear, 1) because breaking your water really gets your contractions more intense and 2) I was a lot closer to transition. Chris, Karen, and I took a walk around the halls. I could tell they were picking up from the start to the end. By the end I needed to really stop talking and breath through them. We got back and I bounced on the ball for a while and tried different positions. At 10:30 my nurse came in to check on things and I asked if she could check me again. I was pretty paranoid that things wouldn't be ready once it was time to push. I was a 6 and 90%. For a moment I was disappointed, but I knew that it was just a number and things can change fast, especially since it was my 3rd baby. I wanted my mom to be there. Someone came in and I swore they said "your mommy" which was a little strange, but it was really Mari my midwife. She came back in the check on things, apparently she was staying upstairs in the lounge. That made me feel a lot better that she would be there.  Karen asked if I was able to go in the tub with my water broken and I was given the ok. Thank goodness! They got the tub going and I stayed in there. It helped the contractions stay localized instead of feeling the pain all over my body. When I was in the tub I was able to zone out and was practically asleep between contractions. However, in the course of my time there they started to really get intense. I remember saying I wanted an epidural because I was getting nervous about stuff happening. And there was one contraction that I just said "I'm done. I'm done." In the back of my head I knew that that was actually a good sign that things were nearing the end, but I was too busy getting through the contractions to actually realize that. Shortly after I got out of the tub and into bed. My nurse must have been in there and they checked me at 11:36 I was a 9 and almost 100% effaced. So with that everyone started setting up for delivery.

My midwife came in shortly after and I was complete. And so I started pushing. But as soon as I needed to, my contractions miraculously got a lot more tolerable and I didn't really feel like I needed to push. We tried a few different positions and with a bar and finally found something that felt right to me. It was taking a long time so I told Chris to text my mom and his mom to tell them that everything is fine, its jut taking a while. I finally felt the "ring of fire" and I knew she was so close. Then all of a sudden I needed to push hard because I knew things were getting serious. The baby nurse came up to my side, and I knew from precepting that that means they are worried about shoulder dystocia. And so I took everything I had and out Quinn came at 12:34. They put her right on my belly and my first thought was "she is HUGE!!!" They waited until the cord stopped pulsing and Chris cut the cord. I got to touch it too, once again, its a nurse thing. Umbilical cords feel strange.

And now the wait. My midwife and I talked extensively about what we would do after baby was born. She would wait 30 minutes for it to detach. Well the clock just kept ticking and nothing was happening.  tick tock...tick tock.... In the mean time they weighed her, 8 lbs 4 oz, 20.5 inches long.  Yep, she was a big baby. Zoey and Ava were both 6 lbs. I tried feeding her to get my uterus to contract and get the show on the road. But nothing.

At 30 minutes she tries to do stuff to get it out. After a while she called for the hospitalist who started doing other stuff. They started Pitocin. Chis said he had some tong thing and a scraper and was scraping it out in pieces. My midwife was pushing on my stomach. Things were really hurting. I knew this wasn't going to end well. I could start feeling gushes of blood come out. Chris was by me the whole time and there was a moment we looked at each other and knew this was it, things were going to get crazy. And soon enough the room started to get full of other staff members. The hospitalist tried to figure out how much placenta was left and there was still probably over half. He said I have Accreta. I knew with my research with my uterine inversion exactly what that was and knew things weren't going to be good. He talked with Mari and they said they couldn't do anything else for me in the delivery room and I needed to go back to the operating room and have a hysterectomy. I knew as soon as they started digging out the placenta that I was done having kids. So the decision of the hysterectomy was easy. And besides what choice did I really have at that point? And as soon as I said ok then the room really got busy. They were calling for blood, putting in another IV for said blood. I was signing consent papers. I told them I wanted my family to come in so I could say good bye before I went back. This whole time I just kept thinking, how is this real life? How can I  be doing this again. I had done everything in my power, they even checked for accrete on my 20 week ultrasound, and yet here I was. In another emergency. Only this time, it was a lot more controlled than my inversion. I knew that things would be ok after surgery. The fact that I was awake and in my room to get my second IV actually helped because I knew that they had enough time to do it, rather than being knocked out by that point because they rushed me to the OR so fast. And the fact that I was fully with it instead of being in hypovolemic shock helped too. So at 2:10 I said good bye and off I went.

They took me to the hospital's main Operating room. I was able to move from my bed to the operating table (ugh, that sounds so harsh. Who named it a table?)  The room was really cold and they weren't giving me a blanket. Then they said they were going to give me this and that and I would be out, and sure enough I was. Next thing I knew is I was in recovery and couldn't talk. I could whisper, but they weren't listening to me. I was still cold. Finally, someone noticed me talking but they couldn't understand me so I wrote c-o-l-d with my hand and they got the picture and brought out a blanket. Apparently this was around 3:40 AM and Mari talked to my family and said I was in recovery and needed 3 units of blood.

I was back in the room around 5 in the morning and had another unit of blood. I was able to hold Quinn and try to feed her again. She didn't care for the bottle they tried to give her. She still definitely prefers her mommy.

I can't believe I got the birth that I was wanting, minus the whole surgery thing. Only 4 hours of active labor. Not induced. No epidural. Used the tub.  I was able to have skin to skin right away and be very involved when they took her over to be weighed and such. Recovery has been ok, a lot easier than my Uterine Inversion. I think that's because I only lost about 2500 ml of blood as opposed to 4000ml during the inversion, and I had the same amount of blood transfused with both.  It was entertaining to see how many nurses tried to find my fundus and would push on my tummy. I finally started to remind them towards the end that there isn't a uterus to check. The lack of a uterus was also nice in nursing because I didn't have the after pains that hurt like the dickens. All they removed with my uterus, I still have my ovaries, so I won't need hormone replacement.

A week later I am adjusting to the thought that we will forever be a family of 5. We were going to have one more, but obviously not now. I kind of worry about people asking if we are going to "try for a boy" when they hear I have 3 girls. Enough people asked me that while I was pregnant. I know I am going to have a lot more in the course of a life time. How do I answer that without it being awkward...I can't, I'm lacking an oven to put the bun in?

Quinn is perfect. Once my milk came in, she has been nursing like a champ. She is in newborn clothes, but they actually fit her. The one time I was prepared at the hospital with a premie outfit I had a monster for a baby. Her big sisters just love her. If Zoey goes anywhere the first thing she does when she gets back is ask where Quinn is and wants to hold her. Ava constantly comes up to her and says hi Quinnie Poo. :)

I'm not sure why I had to have two uncommon birth complications that essentially would have killed me without the intervention of modern medicine. But I will forever be grateful that I am here and able to talk about it and watch my family grow.

Perfection

We had a movie night tonight in our room. We don't get the opportunity to have very many nights together where we can all stay up. Everyone fell asleep before the movie was half way through but me. I can't help but acknowledge how perfect this is. Everything--From the multiple stuffed animals that needed to watch the movie falling over me, to the little people legs sprawled all over my legs and the little tap tap tap on my belly to remind me that she is just waiting for her turn to join us, and even Christopher's snoring that he swears he doesn't do. Heavenly Father has truly blessed me more than I can say. I am so incredibly grateful that I got a second chance to be here for moments like this.

I have approximately 10 weeks until I get to meet this sweet angel. I have spent so much time worrying about the labor and delivery that I haven't spent as much time getting excited that she will be joining us. It's not just my journey. It's our journey.

3rd times a charm?

I can no longer be stoic. I guess it is a good time to mention that I am 25 weeks pregnant. I have gone through every emotion imaginable for this pregnancy. While I have wanted another child for a long time now and I thought I was ready to go through all of this again, turns out it has been a little harder than I imagined. But I guess that's ok. It is all a part of the journey, and I wouldn't be who I am without this journey being placed before me.

First trimester flew by. I was horribly nauseous and exhausted for 2 months. But it got me distracted on what is to come. I started looking for a doula early on because I knew that once it all hit me I would need some extra support. I found one who I think will be exactly what I need. I am going to a different provider who I trust 100%. I actually met her while I was precepting a few years ago and she actually acknowledged me, which most doctors didn't if they didn't have a true reason. They have done extra scans on the placenta to make sure everything was as it should be. I have had a fairly easy pregnancy thus far, which is very reassuring. I am taking advantage of every day I feel fairly normal because I know the day will come when I feel huge and miserable.

My problem remains in my brain, unfortunately. Although I have taken every precaution I could think of, I am still petrified. I am scared to be in pain again. I am scared to push again. I am scared to be rushed out of the room. I'm scared to have flashbacks again. I am scared I might leave my children motherless. I am scared that I am being selfish trying to bring another child into this family when I am alive now and can enjoy my family of 4. Basically I'm just scared of everything.

Well, I'm not really scared that another inversion will happen. I know that I can be ok if that happens. I have a plan for that.  It is all the other 100s of things that don't typically go wrong but can. My body failed me once, what will make it not fail me again in one way or another?

I want to go natural again. I feel like I went through all of that with Ava but I missed out on all the reasons why I wanted it in the first place. But I am scared for that too. Will I be able to handle the pain again? Will it throw me into a flashback that just messes everything up? I'm scared to be vulnerable again and at the mercy of "labor." Ava's birth turned me into a control freak. I don't like not being in control. It freaks me out. I never want to be that vulnerable again as I was with my doctor elbow deep holding my Uterus in place so I wouldn't die as they run me to the Operating Room. Part of me just wants to say lets do a C-section. its more predictable. It can be controlled better. But is that putting up a white flag and letting this take over my life again? Ok, I know I'm not going to ask for one. I chose a midwife for a reason so I wouldn't be tempted once it is closer.

I want to blame my pregnancy hormones, but I find myself crying again. Like hiding in a dark room in the fetal position crying. Intrusive thoughts have started to pop up. I feel like the last month I have taken 5 huge steps back in my recovery. And that totally sucks. I used to be in a place where all this was just a memory. I did The Climb in June and I was on top of the world. I was advocating for maternal mental health. I actually felt a little guilty with how normal I felt compared to a lot of the other mothers I met. That normal is gone and I kind of want it back. I am getting snippy at people again. My thoughts are getting flighty. (Ok, that one might be pregnancy related.) All that I am missing is the flashbacks and I would be right back at square one. ... actually I take that back. I have had a small one while I was driving and just thinking. But on the plus side of that it kept me awake enough to drive home after my grave shift.... but I digress. Basically, my brain sucks again.

I have tried to write this all down for weeks. But I just couldn't get it out. That is unusual for me. I think a lot of it is I don't want to admit that I'm not in as much control as I thought. I have spent the last 3 years trying to overcome my PTSD. I am now realizing that this is something that I will never be able to control. I can be better. I can have a seemingly normal life, but it is still there. Waiting. So it is up to me to be able to acknowledge that it is still a part of my life, and how far I have come. I don't have daily, or hourly, panic attacks. My flashbacks don't debilitate me anymore. I'm not depressed. I have come a long ways. And once I have this baby, I will be able to say I have come even farther. This is just a part of my journey. And I guess I just need to embrace it.

a different type of love

Due to the circumstances surrounding Ava's birth it took me a while to get that mother daughter bond. I was fighting the physical aspect of child birth and so much blood loss, along with my undiagnosed maternal mental illness, and the stress of starting nursing school. I knew I loved her, but didn't have that  out of your body attachment I felt with my firstborn. I would look at her and wonder if she would notice the love I had for her big sister was different than what I felt for her. I wondered if she would resent me. I wondered a lot of things while I passed her off to someone else's arms who wanted to hold her.

Day by day things got better. Days grew into weeks, and weeks turned into years and my love grew with each passing moment. Now, a few months shy of 3 years, I am head over heels in love with her. She is so much like me its not even funny, which I know isn't a coincidence. I have come to the conclusion that it is ok to love them differently. They are different people who require different love, but that doesn't make one inferior to the other. It is just different, but that's ok.

But the best part of all of this is knowing how much she loves me. Tonight I heard someone coughing so I went to investigate. As soon as my light shined on her face she opened her eyes and gave me the biggest smile and said "kiss?" And of course that is exactly what happened.

And it was exactly what we both needed.

hope

There was once a time where time stood still, where I didn’t know how on earth it would be anything more than it was. I was being tormented by my own mind. It was not my own, but belonged to my mental illness. I didn’t see it ever being mine again. I was so very very broken.

I tried my best to appear to have it together. I was living the dream. I was in nursing school, which I had worked so hard to get into. I had the perfect family. On the outside, things were great.

 

On the inside I struggled to make my mind shut off. It would repeat the visions of my last birth over and over.  I couldn’t do it anymore. Multiple times I wanted to run my car off the side of the road. It happened so much that I hated driving by myself because I was scared one day I would actually do it. I thought about leaving my husband and my girls because they didn’t deserve to have a crazy mom or wife who was incapable of being anything else. I was damaged. If I didn’t love myself, how could others?

Well, apparently I had a lot of people in my corner that I failed to see.  They are what carried me through it. It was the teacher who said, it will get better just give it time. I wanted to slap her so bad and say “no it won’t. There is no way that I could possibly get better.”  I had a friend who let me call her and just cry for no apparent reason. I had a husband who, regardless of what I did to him, loved me and told me that we will get through this. I had family, though they didn’t understand my torment (mainly due to my lack of opening up) who tried to help in any way possible. I had a Savior who I knew knew what it felt like to be in my pain. Whenever I felt as if no one understood what I was going through I was constantly reminded that He did. They were there when my accident happened. They gave me a second chance in life. They would listen to my cries of anguish. These are the people who carried me through the darkness.

As I take on a new chapter of healing I can’t help but see the support system I actually had in place that I failed to see. One day, if Heavenly Father is willing, I will give birth again. I will need to rely on them once again. I am scared to death that something disastrous will happen to my baby or me. This is something that I will have to come to terms with when the time comes. Time is no longer stagnant for me. Things are changing. My mind is my own again. I pray that this continues and that I remain free of my captor. I pray that I can carry someone of their darkest days. But most importantly, I pray for hope, because without it, I would not be here.

 

 

Let's celebrate life.

**Possible Trigger Alert**


You know, people don't really like to talk about mental illness too much. They don't like to admit that the time after having a baby can potentially be the worst for the mom and she really isn't enjoying it. But, you want to know what people hate to talk about even more? Maternal death.

Yes, moms still die during or after childbirth. For something as straight forward as insert baby and 9 months later remove baby, a lot can go wrong--terribly wrong. And if it does, we are expected to just be grateful that the baby is here and happy. That is crap. Where is the support for mom? Where is the extra help?  We. Almost. Died.

I was rushed to the OR and the only thing I thought of was Chris raising our girls alone.

But, there is the conundrum. The moment a baby is born, the woman joins the mom club, where nothing is about her anymore, but about the life of the baby. She has the support and opinions of all the moms who have been before her. She now has something in common with half the world, when she didn't a mere 20 seconds ago. That is awesome!

My mom. I missed my girls meeting each other. Note the empty space in the back where a bed is supposed to be.

Unfortunately for some, we also join the maternal complication mom club. This one isn't so welcoming. Mainly, because no one knows who your fellow members are. No one wants to hear your horror story. Our membership is quiet.  No one wants to know. So here I am. Standing up to say that I had a birth complication. I have survived. Heck, I am still surviving. Feeling alone was one of my worst feelings following my daughters birth, and I vow that no one I know will have that feeling too.

I hate this picture because I look horrible.

But, I also hate it because you can't see the blood warmer in my arm the nurses were excited to use for the first time.

I wish I remember what it looked like. That's the nurse in me. :)

Let's celebrate birth. Let's celebrate living. Let's celebrate life.