Pregnant women make me so happy

I was feeling my friends cute pregnant belly and I said I miss being pregnant and she said sorry. Lol that's so silly. I used to be bitter around pregnant women and hated hearing about women having fantastic births, but I'm really over that now. I loved feeling her belly, it made me super happy being a part of a new life. It gave me the warm fuzzy feeling. And I love reading about natural birth, I kind of like to pretend it was me and live vicariously through the wonderful story. I still hurt sometimes for sure, but I'm so glad I've been able to get past the bitterness of being envious of people having joyous births while I had a very traumatic experience. It's definitely a step forward and it gives me hope that I'll be fully healed one day.

It's a long process

My little chunky monkey is 6 months old! It's been 6 months since she came into the world. It's been 6 months and I'm still healing. Sometimes I wonder when I'll stop feeling like someone died. It's completely ridiculous because she's doing amazing, you'd never know she was a preemie. But my heart still aches from the whole experience. I still feel so guilty for letting her down, for my body releasing her into the cold world when she wasn't even close to being ready. I feel guilty for not wanting to think of her birthday because it was so heart wrenching. My friend was telling me about how her first child's birth was traumatic, and her second one was fantastic and was a very healing experience. I need a healing experience so badly. But I definitely need some time before I have another child. I need to physically and emotionally heal. I need to spend lots of alone time with the child I wasn't sure would make it. I just need something to put my pieces of heart back together. I've come a far way, that's for sure. But I keep expecting to wake up without any trace of heartache. But that's not how things work. It takes time. It's a process. I just wonder how long of a process it is because I just want to feel whole again...

I loved you more than I can explain.

It was 10pm when I decided to go to the hospital. I was having painful contractions and I was scared. But I could just go get medicine to stop the labor, right?

We waited in the hospital room for the doctor as I sit there with about a million possibilities going through my head. She told us some people have contractions and never dilate. That's what was happening, surely. She checked my cervix. "Shoot." No. Don't say that. Please God no. "We have to get you to Albany Med asap. You're 4 cm dilated and 100% effaced. Your cervix is very very thin and I don't want anyone checking you in fear of breaking your water."

My heart was racing. I started trembling, started praying.
"Unfortunately once you are this effaced and dialated, the only thing we can do is give you Magnesium Sulfate to try to slow it down, but we can't stop it. We'll give you a shot to help develop her lungs and another one in 12 hours. Hopefully the Mag will help slow down your labor for those two shots, and maybe even for a couple of days. We want to keep her in there for as long as we can."

How is this happening. I didn't do anything wrong. I'm sorry I didn't know I was in labor. How did I not know? I'm stupid. Stupid stupid stupid.....WTF is wrong with me? How did I not know? Why did I have to do the stupid stairclimber at the gym? 

The magnesium set the inside of my body on fire, or so I thought. I wanted to tear my skin off. I also wanted to go back to bed, to just hid under the covers and not go through what was happening. 

They got me ready to take in the ambulance and I told my husband to go ahead to get a head start in our car. When I got to my room in Albany, I was a wreck. A statue on the outside, and an emotional catastrophe on the inside. They said to try to get some sleep. Like that was happening. The Magnesium sulfate made me feel so drugged up and I was scared crapless. Going through contractions will puking really really sucks.

6am they check me. 6-7cm dialated. Not good. Not good at all. They need to start thinking about doing a c-section before it's an emergency since she's breech. An anesthesiologist should be in soon to talk to me. I puked in front of him. You could see the sympathy on his face. He felt bad for me. He got me something to puke in, and wiped my face with a wet wash cloth. The most humble doctor I've ever experienced. Then the NICU dr came in and told me she had a 90% chance of living. Those are good odds, right? What if she's the 10%? What if she can't make it? How small will she really be? I signed the paper to take me in for the c-section. I started profusely shaking.

This can't be happening.

They told Adrian to go get prepped for the OR. I hated that he had to leave. I needed him. He was my rock. He was the only thing keeping me together.

I was alone when they put in the needle in my back. I had to hold my breath so I would stop shaking. I wanted to ask the nurse to hold my hand, but I was too shy. The instant the spinal block started working, I felt warm and stopped shaking. It made me soo much calmer. 

We waited. My husband held my hand while we listened to the radio playing, wondering what they were doing behind the sheet. I asked when they were going to start. They had already begun.

Hailey was born at 7:30am, the song "To Make You Feel My Love" by Adele was playing. I strained my neck to see her when they took her out and whisked her away to the small room in the OR. I couldn't see her. I couldn't keep my eyes off all of the doctors in there. There had to be 7 doctors in there working on her. They were in there a while. Who knows for the exact amount of time. My sense of time was so construed. Finally they asked if I wanted to see her. Of course I did. She was tiny. Tiny and beautiful. "We made that." I told Adrian. "We made her."

"Don't cry or I'll start crying." he said. I cried. Not because of the dire circumstances, but because she was beautiful and amazing and I loved her with every bit of my being. I loved her so much. I loved her. I loved her. I loved her. She was perfect. The most perfect thing I've ever seen. I loved her. 

And then they took her away. I got about 10 seconds to see her. 10 seconds of bliss. Then I was back in reality. Empty. Completely empty and scared and lost. 

They finished sewing me up and took me to the recovery room. They told Adrian he could go see her in about an hour. I couldn't because I had no means of getting to where she was since I wouldn't move my legs. Stupid spinal block. I tried to sleep, but every time I drifted off to sleep, my oxygen levels would decrease. Stupid spinal block. Finally he could go see her. "Take pictures."

He came back and immediately showed me pictures of her. She was beautiful. Tiny, but absolutely perfect. I showed the nurse the pictures. I was already a proud momma. They took me to my room in the maternity ward, but in a special section so I didn't have to see the happy moms with babies in their arms. I was thankful that they didn't put me through that agony. I took a nap with Adrian. He left and went tot he airport to get my parents. When they came back I could finally go see Hailey. 

She was in her plastic box, her warm incubator that would be her home for 2 months. I can't describe how she looked except for the word perfect. But it was more than that. She was angelic. I hated that she was intubated. I hated it. I hated all the wires going to her. I hated that she was in this cold world unprepared. I'm sorry baby girl. I'm sorry. I couldn't help but think that she was supposed to still be inside of me all safe and warm. I felt so empty without her. She was ripped away from me. My body let me down. It let her down. I'm so sorry.

When I finally left the NICU, I broke. I cried for the first time. I balled. "It's not supposed to be like this. This wasn't supposed to happen. It's not supposed to be like this!" Eventually I collected myself and we went back to my room. I felt like I couldn't help her. I couldn't even hold her.

The lactation specialest came and saw me and gave me a pump. I started pumping right away.  I WOULD provide her with the best nutrition possible. I would NOT give up on lactating. It was the only thing I could provide for her at this point. I went back up to see her and gave her the small amount of colostrum I got from pumping. They would give it to her once they started her tube feeds probably the next day. 

She never had to have formula and I'm so proud that I could provide her with my breastmilk. Preemie mothers have breastmilk that is different from full term moms. They have milk that is less in sugar and more in fat, which is exactly what they need. Breastmilk is so fascinating. They also contain the antibodies that fight off bacteria and viruses. I could help her immature immune system. At least I was good for something. 

It sucked having to wait to get someone to take me to the NICU, but I could barely walk. C-sections suck, and it was the last thing that I wanted. I dreamed of having a home birth. Of being perfectly comfortable at home with a wonderful midwife. Of having the most wonderful experience of my life. Of putting her on my chest and crying of joy and breastfeeding her right away. I still mourn not having that experience. I mourn for not even getting a third trimester. I resent the people who complain about back pain, or being hot during the third trimester. I resent the people who complain that they labored for so long. And then I feel guilty because they have every right to feel that way. But I wish they could see it from my perspective. That they got a healthy baby. That they could hold their sweet baby right away.

I feel guilty. It was the scariest day of my life, but it was supposed to be the happiest. That's not fair to Hailey. She deserved a joyous birth. I feel so sorry. I feel a million times less beautiful because my body let me down. At least I was able to breastfeed. That I am incredibly thankful for. Through all of the chaos, I was able to provide something for her. I hope to someday forgive myself through it all.

I hope that I will heal. But for now my broken heart is still sore. I hold her close everyday, thankful to have her home and healthy. She's the strongest, most beautiful person I know. She's going to do great things, she already has.

PTSD isn't only for post-war heroes

A scary realistic dream about someone trying to kill me shook me awake this morning. Hailey's presence instantly made me feel better. She's such a peaceful person, always so mellow and easygoing. I love her so much. To be able to have her in my arms is such a blessing. I think back to days in the NICU, and I get so overwhelmed with feelings of sadness, hopelessness, and relief that it's all over. The wounds are still really fresh.

I use to love watching "A Baby Story" to see the joy of birth, but I get so depressed and envious whenever I see it now. Hell, I get jealous even when someone complains about being uncomfortable in the third trimester. I felt so robbed of my pregnancy, but I always shoved it under the rug since I wanted my energy to be focused on getting Hailey better. I didn't have time to be selfish and have pity parties for myself. I went into Mama Bear Mode. All of my time, energy, and thoughts were consumed with being with Hailey. I loved being pregnant and I really was looking forward to a home birth. I wanted to experience the beautiful event of giving birth to my child. I was robbed of a third trimester and I was robbed of getting to have a joyful birth.

 I didn't even get to hold Hailey until the day after she was born, for an hour. I got to hold Hailey one hour a day. But it was the best hour you could imagine. I hated putting her back.I hated, HATED, leaving the NICU. I sobbed every day driving home as my heart broke from having to be ripped away, and then I'd sob going to bed as I thought of her being in the NICU alone. I was a mess.

 I lived off of microwavable meals and granola bars, I just didn't feel like cooking. I didn't feel like doing anything but being with my daughter. I was jealous of the girls giving birth and the Navy wives getting food trains together to cook them dinners and doing some cleaning. I could have used that soo much, but I didn't know anyone. I was utterly alone. A thousand miles from home, a husband that worked and didn't seem nearly as upset as me, and feeling completely depressed were things that were really hard to deal with when I had no one there for me. A lot of times I just needed a big hug and a shoulder to cry on.

When she was just born, people kept saying congratulations, and I'd always wonder why I'd ever celebrate something so sad. I understand it's the day I became a mom, but still.....it just didn't seem right. And then there were people saying they knew exactly how I felt. Really? Your baby was in the NICU for a day, you must know exactly how it feels to not even know if she'll survive, to long for the day she gets to come home, to wait days after her being born just so you can hold her for an hour for the first time. Don't tell me you know how I feel when your situation is vastly different from mine. I also hated when people said "I can't even imagine!" Well I don't have the luxury to not imagine, I have to actually experience it. Your life being perfect and fine enough to not even imagine doesn't make me feel any better.

I did love it when people told me it was going to be ok. That we were strong and "you WILL get through this!" It was those comments that reassured me that one day I will be able to bring her home. There were so many people praying for us, I was so so so so thankful for that. People I didn't even know were praying for us! And I know for a fact that they helped. I wish I could hug and thank each and every person who prayed for us. It meant so much to me.

The NICU roller coaster was the hardest thing I've ever gone through, hands down. I'm so thankful to have her in my arms. She is such a strong, beautiful girl and I'm so grateful to have the chance to be her mother. The 10 seconds I saw her after she was born before she was whisked away to the NICU I cried, not because of the dire circumstances, but because of the immense love I had for the tiny, gorgeous baby that was a part of me and a part of my soul mate. She's the most perfect thing I've ever laid my eyes on. And now she's allllll mine. I love my baby bear.