Our Middle (Part 2 of 3)

Tim and I were in the stage of "not not trying" because we'd been trying and nothing happened. I hadn't been on birth control for quite some time. A couple weeks before Thanksgiving, my menstrual cycle was late and I had been feeling so tired. I was still working outside of the home at the time so on my lunch break I went to get a pregnancy test. To be honest, I had full anticipation that it would be negative. But to my surprise, there were two pink lines. I immediately cried and called my best friend. I exclaimed, "I'm so scared!" She reassured me that I could do this - grow a baby and push it out. After that phone call and taking some deep breaths, excitement settled into my soul. 

Pregnancy came easy to me. I didn't struggle with much morning sickness and enjoyed eating for two. Those first moments of feeling him move felt like a little butterfly fluttering around and then that sensation grew stronger until I could literally see the outline of a foot or hand. It was an incredible experience that I'm so grateful for! 

His due date came and went. I had a date on the calendar to be induced. The morning of, Tim picked up IHOP for breakfast and I ate my ever-loving heart out. We checked into L&D and after a low dose of Pitocin, my body started going into labor on its own. The contractions started getting stronger to the point that I felt it was time for an epidural. Unfortunately, my body did not respond well to the epidural and I was given a shot in the thigh (ouch!) to increase my heart rate. From that point, my labor slowed and my body would not stop shaking. After 18 hours of labor, it was finally time to push. Tim was right there in the action and cheering me on while also simultaneously giving me ice chips in between pushes. The stars finally aligned and G was put on my chest.

I was given a small meal and told after the meal I would need to try getting up to use the restroom. It felt rushed, but I was trusting the process. Upon standing up, my ears started ringing and my face turned flush. The nurse got a wheelchair and wheeled me in to use the restroom. It was scary, but the nurse reassured me that I would gain my strength after some rest and more food. I was transferred to the postpartum unit and soon after I started passing large blood clots. The nurse taking care of me on this unit was new and overloaded with other recovering mothers. She took note of the clots but didn't seem too concerned. G was having some issues latching so the lactation consultant was in my room every two hours to help with feedings. Later in the afternoon, she walked in and said, "Oh my! You look really pale. Are you feeling okay?" I mustered up a reply, "No, I'm still passing blood clots." She immediately called the nurses desk and told them to get a doctor. I was pretty out of it at this point but I do remember when the doctor came in. She looked concerned and said something like, "We have to do this now. There isn't time to go to the O.R." I ended up with an emergency D&C right there in my postpartum room and it saved my life. 

I hate that G's story is clouded by my own trauma, but his story is also full of God's faithfulness:

• G was born healthy and happy.
• The lactation consultant who used to work as a L&D nurse knew signs to look for.
• The doctor had the wisdom to skip the O.R.
• G was a laid back baby which allowed for rest and healing. 
• Tim stepped up in countless ways as my recovery was slow. 
• Our family helped for over a month after we returned home. 
• My sister was home for the summer since she's a teacher and was only a phone call away.
• And I could go on and on...

Was delivering a baby everything I had hoped for? Heck no! It was everything I was scared of way back in the beginning. But I'm a stronger, more emphatic woman and mother because of it.

+ If you are interested in learning more about adoption and the services we provide at Christian Adoption Consultants, I would love to chat! Feel free to email me at meg@christianadoptionconsultant.com. +

Bouncing Back & Expectations

I can still remember sitting on our guest room bed as my husband took our jaundice newborn son to a doctor appointment a few days after returning home from the hospital. I wept. My mother came in and gently sat beside me. She asked me what was going on and I replied, "Why don't I feel better yet? Why is this taking ME so long? I can't even go to a simple doctor appointment. I see some women who are out and about days after giving birth!" Words of wisdom poured from her mouth as a woman who had been through this. She said, "Every woman is different with a different birth experience. There are some women who bounce back so easily. I sure wasn't one of them either! It's okay. I mean, really, it hasn't even been a week yet. Be patient with yourself and stop comparing."

But here I am on the other side of a complicated recovery that led to PTSD and PPD/PPA. This week I'm weaning off the anti-anxiety medication and that newborn son will be 11 months in a couple weeks.

To the woman who isn't bouncing back like she expected, know that I've been there. Please know that it's okay and you're still a superb mother. And as a wise woman told me, be patient with yourself and stop comparing. It has taken me 11 months to fully bounce back and it might take you longer or shorter. It's your postpartum journey. Just like everyone has a different birthing experience, we all have a different postpartum experience. Accept yours. Appreciate that your body did a miraculous thing that takes time to recover from, some more than others.

The Lord himself goes before you and will be with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged. - Deuteronomy 31:8

Silently Struggling & Getting Help

It was the night before my 6-week postpartum follow-up and I was a wreck. I was shaking uncontrollably, heart was pounding, fists clenched, felt like I couldn't catch my breath, and couldn't sit still. It was midnight so I texted my brother and sister to see if either would be awake. Luckily, my sister called right away. Thank God for her! My first panic attack lasted more than an hour and it left me feeling incredibly weak. Who knew the mind had so much power over the body? It's seriously incredible.

But it couldn't be Postpartum Depression, I thought. I mean, I'm not crying all day and I don't want to harm my baby. Those are the signs they say to look out for and that just wasn't me. I figured it was a one time thing and that it was all due to the anxiety over my first appointment since giving birth. There is some truth to that, however I continued to struggle with anxiety and complete exhaustion over everyday tasks. I also continued to experience panic attacks that would bring my husband home from work, keep me from being able to grocery shop, making me change travel plans, and ultimately landed me in the E.R.

This thick headed girl finally realized that professional help is what was needed. This wasn't blowing over. The office that I was referred to was so busy that I couldn't get an appointment until February, but I figured being on a waiting list was better than nothing. I was encouraged, however, by some wonderful MOPS mamas to call my OB to see if she could either help me until my appointment or get me into my appointment sooner. It worked! I got a call on a Tuesday from the office and they had an appointment for me the very next day. That's what I call a God-thing, folks!

So here I am a week after receiving treatment and I feel like that heavy, dark cloud has been lifted. I have my energy back and I want to play with my kiddos again. I share all of this to encourage anyone who is struggling but is questioning whether it's PPD. Get help! It's not only going to benefit you, but will benefit your kiddos and your spouse. Don't be embarrassed or stubborn like I was. Honestly, the psychiatrist told me if I would have got help right at the 6 week mark I'd probably be off the medication by now. I struggled for months for what reason? My own pride. Such silliness!



And if you're struggling or know someone who is, please also read this: Be Still My Soul.