Singing the baby blues!

Hello again old friend... I know I have woefully neglected you and to be honest I have no real reason for doing so. Just haven't felt the drive or calling to write anything. Well, till today that is. I was prompted to write after hearing a wonderfully courageous, Godly woman speak at MOPS today about her journey with PPD. While I don't feel like I can accurately describe my baby blues as true PPD, some of what she said reminded me of that semi awful time. It also made me feel like if she could speak out, that I shouldn't feel like my story is something I should hide.

To start my story off, I have to say that I am a pessimist. A pessimist that frequently has issues with depression and anxiety. A pessimist that may or may not have walked into her college's health center thinking she was dying of a pulmonary embolism when in actuality was having a panic attack of epic proportion. Yeah, that's an embarrassing story for another time....Anyway... I start my story like this so you understand that dealing with stress, fear, guilt, depression is nothing new to me. Most days I am fine, happy and joyful even. But there are the bad days where I have to make the conscious decision to get out of bed.

The Little Man was born via Caesarian section on December 7th, 2010. Nine months to the day of our wedding! (for you who started to do the shame shame finger wave, he was born a month early. We consider him our late honeymoon souvenir!) My original birth plan was to have a vaginal birth with an epidural at South Florida Baptist Hospital, where my grandmother worked as a L&D nurse. We already had an induction date set, so we could ensure that my OB Dr. could deliver before the holidays, for December 20th. December 7th was one of my last OB appointments before the big day.

That day was pretty normal. My husband was working on my grandmother's van in Bartow, while my grandmother was out of town. At the time, we only had one car, so I just chilled around her house while the hubby worked outside. When my appointment time rolled around I gave the hubby a hug and kiss and drove away in our only vehicle.

I had been feeling pretty icky that day, and the reason why became evident when they took my blood pressure. I can't remember the actual numbers, but my BP had been creeping up that last month and that was the highest it had been. The doctor decided that the best course of action was to strip my membranes, hoping that would start labor naturally and induction if it didn't. Well, the doctor started my labor alright. My water actually broke while he was doing the 'striping'! What a weird moment that was for me. The first gush of water I wasn't sure if I believed him when he said, "Looks like we're going to have a baby." I actually did a polite little giggle thinking perhaps he was making a joke. But it soon (after realizing I was drenching everything) became apparent I needed to make my way to the hospital to give birth to Little Man!

Side Note: I still to this day crack up when I think of how I and the nurses at the office reacted to my water breaking! First I asked for a pad and a trash bag to help keep the car seat clean on my drive to the hospital. They handed me a trash bag and a PANTY LINER! There is a difference between a pad and a panty liner. One is like a diaper and one is glorified plastic backed toilet paper. I thanked her and promptly stuffed the panty liner in my purse and used those paper gowns they give you when the doctor needs to examine you. I used more of those paper gowns to mop up the floor, feeling so embarrassed. I did this till I realized that I probably should just head on to the hospital. As I walked out of the office all blushing, I told one of the nurses that they would probably need to mop before letting anyone else in there.

Remember earlier how I said the Hubby and I only had one vehicle? Yeah, I had that one vehicle which I was now using to drive myself to the hospital. The Hubby was with a van that a.) was not ours, though I'm sure my grandmother would not have minded if he used it and b.) could (depending on how much work he had gotten done) be in pieces. A quick call to my dad guaranteed to ride to the hospital for the Hubby.

Once in the maternity ward I got all hooked up to monitors to check on baby. They quickly noticed with each contraction Little Man's heart rate dropped dramatically. After a bit the doctor made his way to the hospital and quickly determined that Little Man had a prolapsed cord. A prolapsed cord is where the cord goes down the birth canal before baby does and with each contraction the cord gets compressed. This is a very dangerous situation that requires emergency C/S to save the baby. They immediately wheeled me to the OR, with the doctor actually riding with me, holding the cord.

The OR was so scary. Since it was an emergency they were opening packets of scalpels and buckling me down to the table before I was put under. I remember asking in a panic, 'You are going to put me under before you use that right?!' Referring to the scalpel they had just pulled out of it's sterile packaging. The next thing I remember I woke up in the recovery room with two nurses. (And here I realize I was very blessed. A friend of my grandmother's, who I had meet before, stayed with me during recovery. If it wasn't for her I would have been with just one nurse, who really wasn't all that nice) I felt so scared. Where was my husband? Was Little Man ok? I kept asking over and over if they could let my husband in and if I could see my baby. I was under such a fog that I would ask and then a few seconds later I would have forgotten and ask again.

Now this part I had to supplement what I know with what the Hubby tells me happened. I was so out of it, the first moments with my son have been lost. I was wheeled out and into our room. The Hubby was holding Little Man and I was able to hold him for a few minutes before we welcomed our family in to meet the new little one. I know at some point they must have left. And I vaguely remember trying to nurse Little Man and needing help because I couldn't stay awake enough to hold him. Once that night I even woke up to the nurse holding my breast in Little Man's mouth because I had fallen asleep while he was trying to nurse.

And here begins my Baby Blues story (wow, I was a bit long winded with my background story huh?) I felt so disconnected from Little Man from the get go. It was like I feel asleep pregnant, had a awful nightmare about surgery, and woke up a mommy! It just didn't compute. I was so up and down and just all over the place. I was surrounded by people coming to meet the baby, but I just felt like I was alone. Minutes ticked by so slow. I was in pain physically, and overwhelmed spiritually. I did all the right things though. I nursed the baby when I needed to nurse him, I changed his diapers when he was wet or dirty, I took care of myself, and I played nice when people were around (which was weird. I wanted people around, but when they were I just wanted to be alone.). While I was alone I spent time just wondering why I didn't feel that immediate rush of joy and love when I saw my baby. Wasn't I supposed to? What was wrong with me? I mean, I loved him, but it wasn't that sloppy mushy love, but more of a Oh this is my baby type thing

These thoughts were only compounded by the stress of being in the hospital for 3 almost 4 days. I like to be in control of my surroundings, and to have my normal just be thrown the winds really threw me for a loop. Nurses where just in and out. They would wake me as I had just fallen asleep, so I spent most nights only sleeping for hour increments and then taking 2 hours to fall asleep. (Before you say: Oh, well the baby would be in that kinda sleep cycle anyway, so why are you complaining? Due to the pain meds I was on Little Man would sleep 4 hours at a time. Probably even more if I didn't wake him up to nurse him.) I longed for home and would just weep or sit in silence while alone.

At home, things got marginally better. I was able to resume control of my surroundings and felt a bit more secure. However, these feelings of being physically ok opened up the door to feelings that originally had been on the back burner while dealing with hospital stress. I mourned the loss of the birth I was supposed to have, the birth I would never have now. And I was so overwhelmed trying to heal physically, grieve, process my thoughts, and care for a newborn. When I took a break from those things guilt over not loving Little Man the way I should would overcome me. That first month was awful, just awful. I still regret that I lost that time bonding with Little Man. So much was lost.

In the months after that (till Little Man was about 4 to 5 months old) my constant companion was lonely. Lonely would pop up when I woke up in an empty bed after Hubby went to work, Lonely would curl up next me as I spent most of the day on the couch in my PJs, and Lonely was even my bosom buddy when I went out in public. Of course my public appearances were rare. I probably left the house once a week. I would go days at a time not even knowing what the weather felt like outside.

Now, I have painted a very sad depressing picture, but there were good days mixed in with the bad. Some days Little Man and I would take a blanket outside and just sit in the sun. Other days I would rally up the strength to make dinner and I would feel so proud of myself when the Hubby and I ate together. I would drink in the compliments he gave my beginning attempts at cooking like a southern girl drinks in her sweet tea. Some days I would go out with family and others I would go out alone and just enjoy. Probably the turning point in this story was about the time my mom forced me to go out and about.... OK... She didn't force me :) But she did start taking us to the Women's Bible Study at church. I have to say, fellowship with other woman was and is such a balm to my soul.

And as time went by, I was lucky that the baby blues slowly left us. I slowly picked myself up with God's hand upon me and set about the business of bonding with Little Man. I started reconciling myself to the fact that yes, I had a C/S I didn't want and it was OK because that was the way God planned and it was for the best. I also waded through all the guilt I had heaped upon myself for not loving Little Man the 'right way, right away.' I still do. But I am proud to say the Little Man and I are very much in love as a Mommy and little boy need be.

While at the time I didn't try to reach out to God, in retrospect I see that he still reached out to me. So many little circumstances just lined up to keep me there and focused on the positives. So many times family reached out and pulled me out of my isolation and back into the world. One of the verses that we were given at MOPS today really relates and touched me deeply. It's John 16:33. "Here on earth you may have many troubles and sorrows. But take heart, because I have overcome the world." How awesome is that?!

Much Love,
SAHMommy