This post is long overdue. I’ve been thinking about it for awhile. Part of me felt embarrassed to write it because for some reason I thought I shouldn’t have felt the way I did. Part of me didn’t really know exactly how I felt.

Now that I’m “normal” I can look back on Ryan’s first month and really see what I went through. It’s hard though, because it’s all a little blurry. I was depressed and that makes it hard to remember. Plus, I was on vicodin for the c-section and that made me pretty out of it a lot of the time (I was caught falling asleep mid-sentence, mid-conversation more than once).

Why was I feeling embarrassed to write this post? No one talks about the Baby Blues. I heard of them while I was pregnant, but I thought I’d never get them.… yea, just like I thought I’d never ever (ever.) have a c-section. Ha. The truth is that some 80% of women experience baby blues. So why wasn’t I hearing more women talk about it? All I was reading (on twitter and on other blogs) from moms who also had a baby recently was how their hearts were going to burst with love and they had never felt anything like it. So why did I feel nothing? What was wrong with me?! You can imagine that only added to the problem.

I really think my cesarean added a lot to this. Recovery was hard. Recovery sucked. To this day I’m still completely jealous of the women who take their baby out on the town just days after birth. I couldn’t even walk days after birth. When I finally could, it was a very slow and very painful wobble. I couldn’t turn in bed without pain, I couldn’t get out of bed without grimacing and sometimes had to cry out for Steve to bring me the pain meds. Forget leaving the house! I actually sat on that couch, with Ryan, for the entire first month. That also didn’t help the problem of baby blues.

Steve went back to work after the first week. He was working 3rd shift so he’d leave the apartment around 7pm (I think). I’d sob. I’d sit on the couch and sob until I could just take Ryan into the bedroom and sleep.

I held Ryan and I breastfed Ryan because I knew that’s what I was supposed to do. But did I feel that instant bond, that unconditional love, that heart bursting with joy? No. Of course I absolutely LOVED him and never wanting anything bad to happen to him, but I took care of him because… I had to. And then I’d cry about that. WHY won’t he let me put him down? WHY must he nurse all day long? WHY is he always crying?

And now? I MISS those days where all he wanted was to be held. I want them back. And today, that kills me. It kills me that I missed those days… that I barely remember those days… that it was blurry and I wasn’t all there… and mostly, that I’m not sure I gave him all that I could have, should have, would have… had I been “normal.”

People said I’d be annoyed with visitors who came over to help because they’d “help” by holding the baby when really I’d need them to help by cleaning and cooking. Wrong! I couldn’t wait to hand Ryan off to be held while I did the cleaning and cooking… I wanted to feel normal? I wanted a break? I don’t know. But I remember thinking–what are these people talking about?!

“They” say baby blues usually disappear after about 10 days post-partum. Mine definitely did not. I went to the doctor around 12 days pp for my check-up and they asked about depression. I hesitated and then said “I’m okay.” The OB stared at me for a bit and said that I could call any time for more help. I said, “I know.” Then she handed me a slip of paper to take up front for my next appointment. I looked down at it and she had scribbled, “PPDep.” I nearly started crying in the office. Post-partum depression?! No way, not me! I was fine!

On my way home from that appointment I stopped at Walgreens–seriously my first “outing” since Ryan was born (taken out of me). I got a basket full of goodies that made me somewhat happy… got to the checkout… opened my purse.… no wallet. I had left my wallet at home. I started crying, right there, in the store, and told the cashier I had no wallet. Part of me wanted her to say “oh hunny, I’m sorry, just take the stuff anyway.” Yea well she didn’t. And I cried the whole drive home. Maybe I wasn’t fine?

Steve was amazing. Incredible. I may have died without him. He did ALL the laundry and cleaning and cooking. Before he left for work every night he’d set up a tray next to the couch with water and food and the TV remote… it was so hard for me to get around, let alone with a baby who didn’t want to be put down. And what saved me during those nights when I just cried? Steve called me from work. Every night. He’d call almost as soon as he walked out the door and then he’d sit at work with his earphones in and even if we weren’t talking… even if I was falling asleep… he’d sit there on that phone just in case. It seriously saved me.

As I started to get better, I’d tell him: I’ll call you later. And I still did call him for awhile, but I was needing to less and less. I remember the first night he left for work and I DIDN’T CRY. I even tweeted it on twitter. It was a huge milestone. I was nearly jumping for joy (even though in a weird way, half of me still wanted to cry).

Then he’d be leaving for work and I’d be up (yea! off the couch!) dancing around with Ryan and I’d actually smile as Steve left.

By the time I had my 6 week check-up with the OB (yea, the appointment labeled with the PPDep), I was fine. I was great. They gave me a stupid survey where I had to circle how I was feeling, etc. and I flew through it. (Note to OBs: you’d probably learn more about your patient if you spoke to them in person about the depression rather than handing them a piece of paper and walking out the door).

I don’t think it was ever PPD. I think it was baby blues plus some. Plus c-section. Plus surgery trauma. Plus loss of birth. Whatever you want to call it. I can look back on that time and see how much I was affected. It really does make me sick and this post was really hard to write because I try not to think about it. I try not to think about that precious time with Ryan that I missed.

NOW my heart is exploding with love I’ve never felt before. Now I just want to watch him sleep and take 2034 pictures a day. Now I never want to put him down. And now I look forward to baby cuddles. NOW I know what being a mom feels like.

I read somewhere recently that when you give birth, a hormone is released that is responsible for that instant mother-child bond. The one that fathers have to work to achieve. During a c-section, that hormone is never released. So hello dads, welcome me to your world. I had to work for that bond too. And that made me feel a little bit better… like it wasn’t all me… there was a REASON. Even if that reason was that damn c-section.

Baby Blues ARE common and there is NOTHING wrong with you… once I finally brought up my “blues” on twitter, I got a pretty big response from women saying they went through the same thing. This was near the end of my depression (obviously, as I was able to admit it and talk about it) so I thought “where were all of you earlier?! why doesn’t anyone talk about this?!” I had felt so alone, I had felt so broken. (and that’s not including the psychological recovery from my c-section that I had to deal with AFTER this… that I’m STILL dealing with… although I am sure that contributed somewhat, unknowingly, to my baby blues.)

**EDIT: While baby blues ARE common, please seek help if you’re feeling depressed. What starts as baby blues can quickly develop into something more serious like PPD. Besides, you shouldn’t have to suffer and feel as alone as I did. Please talk to someone!**

Do you have stories? Did you get baby blues or PPD? Or were you in the 20% of overjoyed mamas?
ahhhhhhhhhhhhh.… I just took a deep breath. I think I held my breath through this whole post. Thanks for listening. And I write this only in hopes that other mamas who go through this don’t feel alone and know that it IS normal and it does happen.

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Whew, time flies! First, I want to thank all my readers for sticking around through this New Mom Event. I got wayyy more sponsors than I thought I would and underestimated how long it’d take me to get through all of them (while taking care of a newborn). It seems like all I do is post reviews and giveaways now, but don’t worry… once they’re all over (SOON! promise!), I’ll be back to writing about pregnancy/baby/family, etc. And I can’t wait! So, again, thank you

Body after baby: I’m down 22 pounds I think, still 8 more to go to pre-pregnancy weight. Even if I reach that, I can tell my body shape has changed. Wider? Less waist? Apparently a bigger butt (or hips?) because my butt is the only place I ended up with stretch marks! Whatever it is, my clothes look funny to me and I’ve gone up a shirt size (or two)–I finally went shopping and bought some new basic shirts (most size large, some medium… used to be an xs or s). I don’t mind it, but I do mind the little belly pouch that I do hope will go away someday. I actually got an exercise DVD in the mail the other day that’s supposed to specifically help that post-baby pouch… and I get to give one away too, so watch for that! I hope it helps!

This was taken today… 8 weeks after my c-section. I took a picture 2 weeks ago, you can see that here: 6 week pp. I think it has gone down a littttle. I wouldn’t mind the little pouch so much (I know it’s not that bad), it’s just that none of my pre-preggo clothes fit… not pants, not shirts… it’s like I need a whole new wardrobe, and that’s what’s annoying. I use my bellaband more now than I did during pregnancy!

Life after baby? Wonderful. I’m going to do another post on Ryan because I feel like he has changed (grown) so much! But we’re all doing great. Yes, working and taking care of Ryan is exhausting and it consumes your whole life to the point where it takes you 2 days to empty the dishwasher and the dishwasher door remains open that whole time. And your coat never makes it to the closet and the blankets stay on the floor where you last used them.… needless to say, our house is a mess (also because we just moved in and haven’t totally unpacked yet). But… we couldn’t be happier. I can’t stand it when Ryan goes places without me… even though “me time” would be nice, I have to go with (most of the time) because I just can’t let him go! He’s too cute.

Anyway! I have a big interview tomorrow and I’ve been preparing all day (well, all week, really!) and am pretty excited. It would be a great opportunity for me and for our family. I’ll let you know how it goes… wish me luck!

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I’m not sure why I’m sharing this with the world, haha, but I really don’t care about my weight and know some new preggos are curious what happens post-baby.

I started at 116 lb. before getting pregnant… I gained 30 pounds, putting me at 146.

I weighed myself after coming home from the hospital… probably about one week post-partum: 140 lb. Down 6 pounds?! But the baby’s weight 7 lb 9 oz! Shouldn’t I be down AT LEAST that much?! Like I said… I really don’t care. I was just surprised–I wasn’t expecting that. I didn’t take a picture of my belly then, but here’s a pregnancy picture that basically looks the same:

Yep, 6 months pregnant. That’s how I looked coming home from the hospital. Now, at a little over a month post-partum, it has gone down a LOT. I still live in yoga pants and sweatpants and my jeans still won’t zip up (but they do fit everywhere else!), but it’s getting there. Oh, at my first doctor’s appointment (16 days pp), I weighed 138… still only down 8 pounds.

But now… a month post-partum… I’m down 20 pounds. Only 10 more to go! And all due to breastfeeding and getting rid of those extra fluids from labor because I’m still recovering from my surgery and can’t get too active (not even supposed to take the stairs). I can’t wait till I can actually go for a run or something! Oh and it is weird to be able to feel my abs again! Obviously not from the outside yet, haha, but to be able to get off the couch, etc.

Anyway, here’s my 1 month pp belly pic… it used to be pretty flat, so you can clearly see there’s still a pouch. I’d say I’m down to looking 3–4 months pregnant? lol.

I  better figure out how to wear normal clothes again… I go back to work in a week and a half! Any tips? Stories? How long did it take you to lose preggo weight or how quickly did it come off? Does the pouch ever really go away?

Do me a favor and click this to vote for us at Top Baby Blogs! Thank you!

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Alright.…

I do believe I ended up with a c-section because of my decision to get an epidural. As I said in my first birth story post, I don’t regret the epidural. I can’t. The pain was unbearable. So in that sense, I guess I should be ok with the ending c-section. But I also strongly feel that I was talked into it. I was worn down. And… after sitting in the hospital for 24 hours, I was exhausted.

For some women, an epidural helps labor progress because it takes away pain/tension and allows contractions to do their job. For probably the majority of women, an epidural slows labor down, and that’s where I fall. This led to breaking my water… then pitocin… then c-section. Why did I agree to pitocin? I’d rather have that work than end up in a c-section. Sadly, for me, it didn’t work.

A few months ago I was reading a story about how hospital nurses were starting to come forward and talk about how doctors were administering pitocin in high doses to purposely cause distress in the baby (“pit to distress”). Yes, I wonder about my OB… she had no idea who I was, we had no connection, she had no emotion. Plus, she upped my pitocin to a level of 24 when the max is supposed to be 20. Luckily, our baby never went into distress. His heart rate did rise from around 140 to around 160, but they never said anything about it.

What do I wish? I wish I had denied the c-section, at least at that time. I wish we had waited to see if I could get to 10cm and if I could have pushed this baby out. Too big to fit? Please, have you seen him?! 7 lb, 9 oz. I don’t think your body makes a baby it can’t fit.

But… no woulda, shoulda, coulda games. Right? It is very hard when people tell me that I got a healthy and happy baby and that’s all that matters. Of course it matters. And of course I’m deeply in love with Ryan. But it’s not the ONLY thing that matters… it doesn’t change the fact that I missed out on giving birth… one of the most incredible, natural, amazing experiences of life. I missed it. And when they were prepping me for the c-section and I asked the nurse what my chances were of ever having a vaginal birth, she said I most likely never would.

I know that’s not true. But I’m pretty terrified of it. Just a few weeks ago I overheard the receptionist at my clinic say a woman had just died when her uterus ruptured during a VBAC (vaginal birth after c-section) and that my clinic doesn’t even take VBAC patients (no loss there, I hate my clinic).

Yes, I’ve heard of ICAN and I’ve visited their site. They have no chapters where I live… I need to look into it more, just haven’t had time.

Yes, I’m disappointed in myself. And my advice for others??? If you’re completely serious about having an all natural birth, I’d look at a birthing center (or homebirth).

But, if you’re planning on getting an epidural and going to the hospital… I’d recommend a doula. I feel like if we had one there, she would have been able to remember for me what we originally wanted. She would have been able to stand ground for us when we were exhausted and confused. Who knows, I could have denied the c-section and still ended up  needing one later. But at least I would have tried. I was at 8cm.. so close.. and I didn’t try.

Also.. just know what to expect. Know how things work these days and that it’s very possible you end up in a c-section or end up trying to be talked into one. Know what pitocin is and what it does. Know what you want and write it down to have it by your side–in the heat of the moment, I basically forgot what I wanted or why. Have an open mind.

I researched so much.. I knew exactly what I wanted and didn’t want… and this is how it turned out. Anything can happen. I wish I had known that.

Some of you mentioned you had questions for me… I’d love for you to ask. Anything, really. It will help me to help you. If you’d prefer to ask privately, email me erdickey(at)gmail(dot)com

Thanks again for all the wonderful support, it’s greatly appreciated and extremely helpful.

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Now, I’m no alchy, but I enjoy the occasional night out or glass of wine with dinner. Drinking is out during pregnancy so I wondered what the “rules” were for breastfeeding because I do plan on doing that exclusively. (I even WON a $280 Medela pump last week sorry to brag!)

Anyway, I started by asking on twitter, as usual. Apparently some believe in “pump and dump,” which I had never heard of. The idea behind this is that after drinking alcohol, you pump your breastmilk and dump it down the drain… like it’s supposed to clean you out? and your next pump will be good to go? Doesn’t make much sense to me… and most people on twitter agreed–no need to pump n’ dump.

The general idea:

If you’re okay to drive, you’re okay to pump. Your blood alcohol content = your milk alcohol content. So if you’re at BAC 0.08 (legal limit to drive), your baby will get 0.08% alcohol (less than the amount in a can of non-alcoholic beer). Not that you’d feed your baby non-alcoholic beer, haha, but it’s not going to harm him. One person even said a glass of wine with dinner may help increase milk supply.

Also… if I feed baby and then have a drink with dinner, all should be just fine by the time of the next feeding. Someone sent me a website of some guidelines:

“Current research says the occasional use of alcohol (1–2 drinks) is not harmful to the nursing baby. The American Academy of Pediatrics Committee on Drugs classifies alcohol as a ‘maternal medication usually compatible with breastfeeding.’”

The website agrees that pumping and dumping doesn’t do anything and that if you’re okay to drive, you’re okay to feed. “Less than 2% of the alcohol consumed by the mother reaches her blood and milk.” Newborns are more affected by alcohol, but by 3 months of age they’re able to detoxify alcohol at half the rate of an adult. It does NOT agree with the idea that alcohol may increase milk supply.

However, let’s not forget about the recent case where a woman was arrested for breastfeeding her 6 week old baby while drunk. Ridic, right?! Although I don’t know the whole story… and I never plan on feeding while DRUNK.

Anyway, all sounds good to me! We even stocked up our wine rack last weekend with 8 bottles Now I won’t have to cry when walking past the wine aisle at the grocery store, haha. I said I’m no alchy, but I didn’t say I wasn’t a wino. (But no worries, people, baby always comes first! We’d never do anything to put him in harm and I’d never have a glass if it wasn’t okay–I’ve done it for 9 months already.)

Any other tips or guidelines to share??

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Nope, this isn’t a sappy post about how I can’t wait to hold our baby or meet him for the first time (all that is a given, right?). This is a post about ME

I can’t wait to…

*bend over without pain
*put on socks and shoes without sitting down
*skip the 2–3 bathroom trips every night
*see my belly button
*wear clothes that fit
*not get tired just from standing up
*not get light headed or dizzy from walking across the room
*properly shave my legs
*drink some gooooooooood wine
*sleep on my back and belly
*regain my balance and not trip over myself
*stop waddling like a duck
*get out of bed or off the couch easily and on my own
*let my kitties sleep on my belly again
*be able to pull myself up to the table/counter/desk without a massive belly in the way
*not spill my food down the front of me because I can’t pull myself up to the table
*sleep without a fan on me (even when it’s 0 degrees outside)
*zip up my winter coat
*no longer feel kicks to my ribs, “lightening crotch” (look it up), or pressure on my pelvic nerves
*never have heartburn again
*sleep on my sides without numbing my hips

But really, there are some things I’ll miss too…

*using my belly as a shelf to rest things like… my arms, cell phone, cereal bowl, drinks.. I’ll REALLY miss this
*letting my belly just all hang out
*watching baby kick and move
*Steve staring at my belly in complete amazement
*Steve pampering me: always opening the car door, cooking, helping me off the couch, wedging my belly…
*living in sweat pants (I suppose this will last awhile longer, until I return to work anyway!)
*using “I’m pregnant” as an excuse for just about everything

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