Showing posts with label I'm a bad ass. Show all posts
Showing posts with label I'm a bad ass. Show all posts

Monday, May 8, 2017

Unsolicited advice from a c-section mama

There is what might described as the "gold standard" of labor and delivery.  Both my sister and my best friend, for example, win whatever fictional prize exists for when labor goes as planned.  And they are both a-ma-zing birthing stories, to be sure.  I know I read dozens of empowering articles and personal stories that celebrate the incredible circumstances under which mothers are able to harness the collective hereditary power passed on since the beginning of time.

I love natural childbirth.  I love the women who are brave and strong and able to undertake the journey.

But I want to pause to celebrate and recognize the other end of the spectrum.  If an unmedicated, natural childbirth is the gold standard, let's also explore the unsung heroes, and some truths about c-section mamas.

C-section mamas are strong.
Let's face it.  Whatever birth you envisioned, whether long or short or medicated or unmedicated, whether you imagined your water breaking and anticipated the special moment you'd finally realize it's time! Even if you dreaded the hours of contractions and feared the pushing, the reality is that there aren't many who dreamed of meeting their child for the first time in the cold, white-walled operating room.  At some point, c-section mamas are faced with a reality that they were unprepared for.  They must shift their expectations at best; but for many, a c-section means letting go of the long-held dream of experiencing the delivery of a baby.


Sometimes a mama has a few weeks or days to come to terms with this change, but sometimes she has only hours or minutes.  There may be the added terror that something has gone wrong.  There may be huge disappointment after hours of already heroic labor, to no avail.  Whatever the route, the c-section mama must summon her courage and find the inner strength that allows her to enter the operating room.  Not to save her own life as we might otherwise do, but because it must be done for her baby.



C-section mamas are brave.
Facing a major surgery is scary.  Being on the operating table is scary.  The actual process - strapped to the table, half a dozen people in scrubs and masks, anesthesia, catheters, cutting and suturing, counting medical gear to make sure none is left inside of you - is no picnic.  And that's before we consider recovery.


Immediately after surgery, a csection mama naturally cannot move around much.  She may be coming off of medication, or perhaps even waking up from anesthesia.  Her legs are tingling and heavy.  She's puffy from all the fluids that have been pumped into her, and her skin has a sallow, yellow color. She may be nauseous, dizzy, groggy or have a head ache from all the medication. Eventually, she will begin to feel the full effects of what has been done to her.  Walking across the room will be a challenge, and may not even be an option on the day of her baby's birth.


And still, you will see that mama smile.  She will hold onto the fierce love burning inside her for the tiny life she is so bravely bringing into the world, and whatever her body endures will become bearable.  She knows she is facing real wounds and real scars, and she will tell you only: it was worth it.  I'd do it again.


She will have to hold onto that strength for weeks, perhaps even months, as literally everything from riding in the car to putting on underwear hurts (PS: granny panties and a good support belt will help!).  Sitting up to nurse her precious baby hurts.  Going to the bathroom really hurts. She may have orders not to go up the stairs or lift anything other than the baby.


C-section mamas deserve a break.  And some help.
Of course, every body is different.  Some bodies heal quickly, and a csection mama may be up and about with little or no residual pain in a matter of days.  Others... not so much.  It is my fervent belief that every mother deserves to have a break after delivery.  She deserves to be pampered and take a rest after the herculean task her body has just undergone.  But a c-section mama?  It's requisite.

A c-section is major surgery.  She is going to be on major pain medication.  While most people would prefer to eat ice cream and take a break after major surgery, a mother does exactly the opposite.  She who should be cared for does the caring, the bonding, the breastfeeding, diaper changing and child nurturing.  Don't let her fool you.  Make sure she doesn't have to stand on her feet (which hurts) and feed or chase or clothe the people before she has healed.  Just for good measure, plan to have a solid support team for the first 6 weeks after surgery.  Mom shouldn't be doing anything more than navigating the bathroom and the baby for the first two weeks.  Yes, she will argue with you.  Yes, she will protest.  And yes, she needs to prioritize herself first.  If she feels better earlier?  GREAT!

It may feel like a big deal.  But you ARE okay.
Because, we are told that there is a gold standard to which we should aspire.  There is a sense that a c-section isn't "real" or "normal" labor.  A c-section mama may feel as if she has let herself or her baby down.  She may have guilt, regret, fear of another c-section or of never experiencing "true" labor.  She may recoil as she examines what has happened to her body, and have to remind herself she bears only a slight, below-the-belt resemblance to Frankenstein's monster. She may be accused of taking the easy way out, when nothing could be further from the truth.

You are a hero, c-section mama.  And, if I do say so myself, you are a badass.

And, whatever your feelings on my statements above, make sure you adhere to this advice:
don't stop taking that stool softener.

You'll thank me later.  :)


C-section mamas have amazing birth stories, too.

Friday, April 14, 2017

The one with all the details

The hospital is quiet in the dark of the morning.  When you're coming in for a scheduled c-section you wake up early.  There is an incredible sense of anticipation and excitement, so you smile a lot, and enjoy.


You know... while you still can.  Because, let's face it --


...you're tired.  It's early.  There's no such thing as a flattering photo, because you're super pregnant and hospital lighting isn't helpful. And, oh yeah...


...you're about to be cut open while still awake. So there's that.

I felt pretty calm all morning.  My sense of confidence that I was making the right decision outweighed the nerves over having the actual surgery.  The hard part was that this time, I knew exactly what I was walking into.  I remembered how I felt the day Leah was delivered, and how long recovery really does take.  So there was definitely a little more of an underlying edge, but also greater steel in my resolve.  I felt the anxiety, but I also had to let it go.  This is how we meet our baby, and whatever happens to me, he'll be safe.

Although, just to put my resolve to the test, right as I got up to walk into surgery, my water broke.

Ha!  Because, of course it did!

And in a really, comically big way.  Exactly like in the movies.  You could almost hear a pop! and there it was, all over the floor.  Go figure, right?

But I wasn't in any kind of serious labor, although I had a few contractions here and there, and the fact that my water had broken changed nothing in the way of how high up and how big a baby we were expecting.

Casey didn't get to go in while they were putting in the spinal block, which was news we hadn't expected.  Seven years ago in Boulder, he was able to be with me during that part, which is scary and sterile, particularly when you're alone.

They got me situated on the table, brought Casey in, and it was off to the races.

I am absolutely amazed at how quickly they can get those babies out.


His little cry undid me.  I couldn't see him, but I could hear that beautiful sound.  It is the very best sound in the whole world.  It seemed to take forever while they checked him out and cleaned him off, but I'm sure it was really just moments.  He pinked up so quickly, a nurse made a comment that it was concerning.  I'm not sure whether she was serious.


Then, they did something which they didn't do seven years ago - they brought him to me.  8 pounds 10 oz of naked baby boy, and let me have skin to skin time while I was open on the other side of the curtain.

It was heaven.  I remember thinking with Leah, this is heaven, right here in the middle of hell.  I so feared that surgery all those years ago - it was absolutely my worst case scenario short of endangering Leah's life.  As they laid him on my chest, that same thought came back to me.

The love of a mother is so powerful.  So, so very fierce and strong.  I am always overwhelmed.  When you hear the cry, when you look into their eyes and feel the beautiful weight of their little bodies on the outside for the first time, even the fact that your own body is literally open - things that should be on the inside aren't - cannot hold a candle to the overpowering joy they bring with them.


As they finished stitching me back together, they bundled up my special little bundle, and Casey got a chance to hold him.



And then it was over.  They wheeled us back to recovery, and that was that.




The surgery went well.  The only hiccup was that I had a really good spinal block.  Which, on the surface, doesn't sound like a problem, but I was numb all the way through my chest and arms.  That made it difficult to hold and touch my little guy, and it also created a lot of pressure on my lungs.

I brought this up to the doctors, only because, well, it seemed like it might be important.  Pressure on my chest while still open on the table?  I just wanted to check and make sure everything was okay.  I was reassured that it was normal.  But it didn't resolve itself, and so I told them again that I still had pressure.  I'm not sure exactly how or why, but they ended up giving me a good dose of morphine, interpreting my concern as pain.

Whew.  Morphine.

I would make a lousy drug addict, because the morphine was really a shot to the gut.  I was nauseous, out of sorts, and the rest of the day looked a lot like this:


I was pretty foggy until sometime after midnight.  I was even worried about having the kids visit, because I didn't want to scare them.  My speech wasn't particularly clear, and the morphine made me sooooo groggy.  It was bad.

But even so...





he is worth every second. 

Saturday, April 4, 2015

Progress

90 DAYS!!!


8 months post-partum.

How many inches did I lose?


29.5

Look at what an enormous difference... I just can't believe it.

The immeasurables are pretty significant.  I feel amazing.  So, so much better.  I am strong.  Flexible.  My endurance is way up.  I have no idea the difference in my weight, although I am kind of wishing that I had chosen to keep track.  Either way, I'm close or already fitting into clothes that I haven't worn since shortly after Leah was born.  I've set the clock back about 4 years, which is hugely significant in my world.

I'm not a particularly vain or insecure person.  But I missed feeling like me, and I have definitely gotten that back.  It is a very nice feeling!

Wednesday, March 4, 2015

60 days: Update

Okay... it has officially been 60 days since I began my weight loss and exercise program.

Are you ready for this?


I'd say it's going pretty well!  

I am down a grand total of nearly 24 inches.  As I have mentioned before, I'm not keeping track of my weight loss.  Weight is such an insignificant factor for me... I can lose a ton and look completely different without changing my weight very much, and I did not want to be discouraged.

It has been so, so wonderful to watch the changes in my body, attitude, strength and energy.  I am getting so much stronger!  My endurance is up, and I'm really beginning to recognize the person I'm accustomed to seeing when I look in the mirror.  Obviously, at only 7 months old, Miss Olivia is still nursing away.  I'm a little bit apprehensive as to whether I am actually going to see much additional change after this point, but I am so proud of myself.

And, it's worth noting that for the first time EVER while still nursing, I am in my pre-pregnancy pants.  I tried them on this morning, and they fit.  Nicely.  That's a little crazy to me in the best kind of way.

I know that I still have a long way to go, and the truth is that I may just never fully get back to my "before."  I am actually completely okay with that - I have had three babies, have a husband who loves me and am exactly where I want to be in my life.  This program has been so wonderful for me because it has given me 20 minutes a day to reclaim who I am, and do something that's good for me.  I have fallen so far off of my own radar over the past nearly five years, and I've come to the realization that it is important for me to be important - even if it's just for the time it takes to do these exercises.

That little bit of self care is the biggest gift I can give myself, and probably my children, too.

So cheers to those almost 24 inches in 2 months.  I do not miss you!



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