2 Weeks

I really miss blogging! This is literally the first time I've been on my computer since writing the birth story. My sweet husband is finishing out his last 2 weeks working his second job at UPS which means that he's basically gone from 3 am to 6:30 or 7 pm every day. Since he already only gets 5 hours of sleep on a great night then I'm doing all of the night feedings. My mother in law was here this week from 11-4ish each day which allowed me to get a 3-4 hour nap Tuesday-Friday, which helped, but I simply haven't been sleeping much, only one to two hour naps twice a night on a good night, sometimes nothing at all when Roger's having a rough night. I'm not whining, though, because someday I'll get plenty of sleep but ache for the days when I got to hold my sweet baby and he snuggled into me and was completely content. I'm doing my best to treasure every second while I can.
My sweet boy

This leads me to what I have wanted to blog about. It will be very disorganized, but hopefully that's ok. If not, you know, you don't have to read it :) But I'll to my best to record the things I've learned / thought about over these last two weeks (well, technically 15 days, 1 hour, and 13 minutes):

  • I'm doing the best first: in the hospital the day after Roger was born my dear friend Sarah M. said to me, sweetly and boldly, "When [not if!] you need to, just let yourself have a good cry." I nodded my head thinking I probably wouldn't need to but ok! Yeah... I needed to. For one, that first week brought CRAZY hormone changes. For an entire week I couldn't say the word pregnant without choking up and everytime I thought, "I'm not pregnant anymore," I would sob.

    No, for reals, hiccuping/hardly able to breathe SOB. It was the weirdest thing because I could love and snuggle and kiss and smell and see my sweet, darling baby, which I had ached to do, yet the absence of my big ol' baby belly hurt like I could never put into words. Totally caught me off guard. But I remembered Sarah's advice and just let the tears flow. Other stuff made me cry too, like Jason going back to work (especially because it involved this crazy schedule--one more week though, and then no UPS and he'll be home by 3:15 every day because he'll work from 6-3 and then bike home!) or the big digestive health scare.
  • Speaking of, having a child is terrifying. Seriously. I remember thinking to myself multiple times that I never knew the meaning of the words "vulnerable" and "fear" until I had a baby. I didn't sleep at all the first night because I put him right next to my bed and watched him breathe. I kept thinking of the Aerosmith song Don't Wanna Miss A Thing with the lyrics:

              I could lay awake just to hear you breathing
             Watch you smile while you are sleeping
             While you're far away and dreaming
  • Literally the worst moment of my life was Wednesday morning. You see, EVERYTHING I read and was told by doctors regarding meconium is that the first diaper is tarry and black and then it starts transitioning. Well, Rog hardly pooed once we left the hospital when he was 3 hours short of 2 days old on Sunday afternoon. Early Wednesday morning he pooped and it was a LOT (at least a quarter cup) and it was full on black and sticky and totally tarry. I remembered a friend posting on Facebook a picture of her daughter pooping on her and her daughter was 5 days old and it was definitely mustard yellow. Roger was 12 hours short of 6 days old and it was black... and I won't lie, I freaked out

    See, to me, black and tarry means blood in the stool. I remembered that Jason was allergic to his mom's breast milk (which I found out later wasn't actually true; he just had a reaction to dairy and she decided to do formula instead of cutting dairy out of her diet) and so I thought either my breast milk was ripping his intestines apart or he had some actual digestive problem. I was a hormonal, sleepless mess and sobbed. We called the pediatrician the second the clock ticked to 8:00 and then just waited.

    Roger was sleeping in his bassinet in his room (we had him in our room the first night and found that we didn't sleep because we were so worried about whether he was breathing or not; it sounds odd, but having him in his room with the video monitor allowed us to sleep better than being bedside) and we just needed him in our arms. The fear that something might seriously be wrong with our baby was palpable and we were both worried sick. Jason went to get him and came into our room holding up our son weeping over him. It was literally the worst moment of my life. Seeing my baby, whom I was so worried about, and then seeing my husband who never cries openly weeping over him just ripped my heart out.

    The pediatrician was just like, "Oh, it's meconium, and if he's not pooping you're not making enough breast milk so give him formula." We started pumping (well, I did--Jason's not producing breast milk) but I was only making about an ounce every two hours. It broke my heart, but "it just so happened" that, despite me not asking for it, Enfamil sent us samples of formula... only it was a full sized can. We started offering Roger 2 oz of formula after breast feeding and he just sucked it on down. As soon as we did that he started pooping more and it transitioned to the right color within 2 days. So it was a false alarm, and I had major guilt over the formula until I realized that it allowed my son to stop being dehydrated (he was "peeing" uric acid crystals that looked like blood in every diaper called brick dust, that's how dehydrated he was) and it took a lot of prayer and effort to cling to Jesus but I chose to receive that gifting of free formula and the option of using it as grace. Praise Jesus, because I probably would have really fought going to buy some but it was what Roger needed. After losing 9 oz in less than 24 hours he gained 17 oz in a week, so that was happy!

    And, as an aside, my supply has totally caught up now so we don't need it at all and we're blessed that Rog not only latches SUPER well but he also takes the bottle well but prefers the breast so Jason can feed him a feeding from a bottle of pumped milk and I can rest and if we need formula then it's there.

I love my men.
I'm sure that there's more, but this post has taken nearly 5 days to actually get written so I'll just stop there and end with this: I adore my son. I realized that it's terrifying, because I love my son and I love my husband (his week home was definitely the sweetest time in our marriage thus far and we're just so deeply in love and feeling so blessed and connected to one another, our baby, and our Jesus) and while it's incredible I now have so much to lose because all of my heart now exists outside my chest. But there is nothing like motherhood. I'm just in the beginning of it but I adore my sweet boy and am one completely grateful mama. 

1 comment:

  1. YOU'RE DOING GREAT! I can imagine how scary that whole thing must have been; way to be on top of it! And so glad you are able to produce enough milk now. You're doing good. These first six weeks will be the longest day of your life, but things will lighten up in another month. Really. They will. This may be the toughest phase of discipleship that you will ever go through, but you can do it. It may not always feel like it, but you will make it. Pray those brief prayers of utter exhaustion ("Jesus help me make it through this hour!") and see how victorious He is even in the quiet, obscure life of an exhausted mama. I'll be praying for you! Don't be afraid to ask for help... every time someone offers, accept it, and you will be glad that you did.