My little man is 3 months old now! Time has FLOWN by... I return to work on Monday... something I am dreading. Going back to reality, leaving my bubble. My daily routine will drastically change from just focusing on breastfeeding, changing diapers, playing with Joey, and soothing him to sleep... I have to add in work. And all that it encompasses. Planning my morning around his a.m. feedings... showering and pulling myself together BEFORE 6pm... making sure his diaper bag is ready to go... making sure I'm ready to go... commuting the 45 minutes to Hillsboro with rush hour traffic that I have had the luxury of avoiding since early January... and WORKING... and pumping at work... then returning home after another 45 minute commute with just enough time to feed my little man before we have to get him in bed for the night.
I'm anxious about the whole process. Ugh. I'm going to miss my little man each day... miss playing with him... listening to him babble at his toys and seeing his incredibly beautiful smile all day long. I have to figure out how to squeeze every minute I can into being with him while he's awake. I'm feeling very territorial about the whole thing. I didn't think I would to this level.
People ask if I can handle being away from him and I can - I haven't had that stereotypical nervousness about leaving him even for a few hours - I haven't felt the need to call to check on him because I'm confident that he is perfectly content. My anxiety about my return to work is simply me. How will I handle it?
When the expected daily stress mounts and people start freaking out about something that has been deemed critical - how will I curb my urge to not walk away from it or not scream there are much more important things in life? I think that's where my biggest struggle is - knowing there is so much more to life than my job and not understanding why people feel it is necessary to put so much stress on work and imply that it is the most important thing that must be done in life. Seriously world. Get a hold of yourself!
So....
What have I been up to these past 3 months?
Life as a first time mom... with a case of post partum depression. Joseph is positively the most miraculous part of my life thus far. He has been rolling over from his tummy to his back since he was 3 weeks old. Yes, you read that right THREE WEEKS OLD! And... he rolled from his back to his tummy a little over 3 weeks ago (he has yet to repeat this fun move yet, which I'm completely fine with!). He is so incredibly strong, and alert, and curious... and just downright amazing... not to mention just the most adorable little man ever. He's my tiny human. So what's my problem, you're probably wondering?
So much. That's what! You see, I'm a planner. I like to know what is going to happen and I like to have control of what happens around me. As Patrick and I were preparing our home for Joseph's arrival, we knew our world would change once he made his debut. We knew we would sleep less and that we would have a different life. I knew this was going to be hard.
But I had NO IDEA just how hard and just how much I would be impacted by it. Labor? I was banking on a relatively fast labor and delivery since all the women in my family practically shoot their babies out once their water breaks. 30+ hours.... pretty sure it's a record for my side of the family... and one that won't ever be broken by any of them. Now, those 30 hours were relatively smooth. But I wasn't prepared for over 30 hours of labor.
The first few days and breastfeeding? Well. Incredibly painful. And emotional. And completely heartbreaking when my milk took longer to come in and Joseph was so hungry we couldn't get him to stop hysterically crying. I knew it would be hard breastfeeding in the beginning but I figured we would get in the groove fast and it would all smooth out. HAH. So wrong. I didn't want to have to supplement him with formula. I felt like I was failing him already even though I knew I didn't have control on the timeline of when my milk would be at the supply he needed.
New parent exhaustion? Exhaustion doesn't even begin to describe what you feel. I knew I needed to sleep when he slept... but trying to do that when he was eating every 2 hours? And it wasn't every 2 hours from when he was finished eating or when I couldn't stand the pain and made him stop... it was every 2 hours from when he STARTED eating. So... breastfeeding for 30-45 minutes and then trying to sleep once he went to sleep? Doesn't work like that.
That whole day/night "confusion" that babies have? How about colic? Near constant diaper changing, cleaning up spit-up. Soothing. Attempting to deal with his nightly hysterics that would last for a few hours. Trying to sleep while rocking him. Getting so frustrated that he won't sleep, that he won't calm down, that you can't sleep.
Feeling so isolated even though you are surrounded by a huge, loving family that is more than willing to help. Feeling alone. So incredibly alone. And exhausted.
Not getting anything to eat until 3pm every day, let alone go to the bathroom. Lucky to shower every few days. And constantly feeling like a complete failure and wondering why on earth I thought I was ready to be a mother. Having your husband look you in the eyes and with so much concern as he utters the words "I'm worried about you" on a regular basis and having him have to take your screaming baby out of your arms because you can't stop crying either.
Add it all together and I am one hot mess. It took me a long time to realize I needed help. A long time to accept help. I literally spent an entire day sitting on our couch with tears streaming down my face and having this complete feeling of emptiness. I shut down completely. Luckily we had my 6 week post partum check-up the next day. After a sobering conversation about what I was experiencing, we left with resources and a prescription.
This bumpy and windy dark road has slowly smoothed and straightened out and gotten a little brighter. I have gone from not wanting anyone else to know what is really going on to being okay that people know. I didn't want anyone to know at first because I didn't want anyone to look at me differently and constantly ask how I'm doing or how I'm feeling. People ask "how are you doing" differently when they know something really is wrong. I still don't like being asked how I'm doing. I'm here. I'm awake. I've showered today. I'm generally not okay all the time. This isn't something that I want to talk about all the time, or even every once in a while. There's still a part of me that doesn't want anyone around me to know. And then there's this part of me - the part that realizes I'm going to be okay someday and that post partum depression is nothing to be ashamed of. And nothing to hide.
I'm not completely broken. I'm just a little battered and bruised. But I'm healing. If you ask me how I'm doing and I respond with any of the canned "fine" "good" "great" answers, know that I am or that I'm working on it. Know that I'm focusing on the good in my life and that I don't want to talk about the dark and twisty stuff.
Know that I am absolutely over the top in love with my son:
Our "Little Lion Man" has arrived! After just over 30 hours of labor, Joseph James Bailey made his debut on January 18th at 1:15 in the afternoon - weighing 8lbs 3oz, 20.5 inches long, and a 14.5 inch head! The past few weeks have absolutely flown by as we watch our little man already changing and growing. He has been an absolute blessing in our lives. We are slowly figuring out his schedule and figuring out how to adjust our own sleep cycles to make sure we have enough energy.
I continue to be amazed at just how absolutely different life is once Joey arrived - I truly don't know how we could have lived without this precious little guy in our lives. I had 9 months to prepare for him and even those short months still don't even begin to really prepare your heart for how different you feel once you see his face, hear his cries and squeaks, and watch how fast he calms down when I hold him close to my heart.
As I reflect on the past 9+ months, I get full of emotion - overwhelming joy and pure gratefulness that we have been so blessed to begin this journey of parenthood with Joey.
The final week before delivery could have gone a lot differently, but once again - we lucked out. We went in for our routine weekly appointment - an early morning one since we both needed to go to work immediately after. Went through the now routine motions of each appointment - trip to the bathroom, waiting for my Medical Assistant (MA) to be ready to take my weight, blood pressure, temperature, general check-in, etc. Who knew that this morning would be any different? While waiting for my MA, my doctor was in the midst of tending to another patient and briefly stopped long enough to ask if we wanted an exam and made a comment about how my belly had now become an excellent shelf for my hands. I then went about the routine - stepping backwards onto the scale, getting my blood pressure taken... only my MA started asking more pointed questions about me - headaches? no - sharp pain in my upper right abdomen? - no.... after she left and as we waited for my doctor - I knew something was up... My blood pressure reading had been the highest I had ever seen it... My doctor came in and instantly starting checking out how swollen my feet and ankles had become and said he noticed I had become a little too puffy and that I was most likely going to end up on leave early. After my exam (I'm sparing you the painful details!), we were ushered into the ultrasound room - he needed to check the amniotic fluid levels - my levels were great - if anything - I had a little extra fluid (YAY!).
Then we were ushered into another room and I was hooked up to the baby monitor and instructed to push a button every time Joey moved. My doc wanted to track Joey's heart to make sure he was responding properly when he moved. Everything checked out well with this exam... Then we were given our marching orders: up to the lab for bloodwork and other test instructions and then home for bedrest. Follow-up on Friday, with multiple calls from the doc that afternoon and Thursday.
We showed up for the Friday appointment, with me full of anxiety. I knew the implications of everything and was really starting to get overwhelmed. I wanted our little guy to not be in any danger and for my health to be okay. I managed to lose a pound, blood pressure was down to a safer level. We once again got hooked up to the baby monitor. Everything was checking out well, all good signs! We saw the wheels turning for my doc as he realized when his next on-call shift was and I got a small glimmer of hope that he would be the one to deliver our little one after all. We left the appointment and would be returning again on Monday for more checking in.
Monday came along. I had been a good girl (for the most part) when it came to my bedrest. So good that I lost another 4 pounds. Holy cow was I retaining water! My swelling had significantly gone down and my doc was pleased with Joey's continued movement and strong heart rate. And the new marching orders? Return on Thursday, a scheduled induction to begin Saturday night so our doc would be just starting his on-call shift Sunday morning. Prior to this point, I had been completely anti any induction/medical interventions, but knowing my doc would be the one in charge made me much more open - I had grown to trust and respect his decisions - and he has the ability to explain the reasoning with respect. So. Home I went again. I was starting to go a little stir crazy... bored... lonely... But attempting to enjoy the quiet time I had been blessed with and the time to take naps at my leisure.
While all of this was happening, our wonderful winter weather decided to make itself present. We had wet snow flurries and were expecting icy conditions... Patrick was working late... and I decided to drive myself to bible study. I knew it would be my last appearance for a while. No ice outside, thankfully, and no snow falling either - yay! The last thing I needed was a stressful drive when I wasn't even supposed to be driving! After bible study, I went back home... Patrick was still at work - the latest night he'd ever had in the office. He finally came home and I declared I needed more yarn if I was going to survive another week of bedrest... So off to Freddies we went... A "quick" trip in to get yarn developed into getting more storage bins, and a few other items... which inevitably meant lots of walking around the store... not so much following doc's instructions! Came home... settled down... went to bed... Who knew what the next morning would bring!
Patrick had to get up early for a meeting. Soon after he kissed me goodbye and headed downstairs to leave, I had to get up to go to the bathroom... or so I thought. Right after standing up, I instantly had the "wow - I didn't realize I had to go to the bathroom that badly..." situation. Got into the bathroom and thought that I was peeing... but something was different... At first I couldn't quite decipher what was happening... Then I thought I was done... The wheels started turning in my head... could this be? no... no... this isn't my water breaking... is it? As I stood up... well, that was the deciding moment. My water had most definitely broken. Patrick hadn't left the house yet. I started yelling for him... but he didn't hear me - he had the TV on. I continued yelling... The TV went silent... I yelled once more... he finally heard me and made his way back up to our room. I was standing in the bathroom doorway when he came into the room and exclaimed it was time - my water had broken! I think his response was along the lines of a "no way... shut up... are you serious?" with a growing smile on his face.
Instead of heading out for his meeting, he had to call his boss... But slight problem... the meeting he was supposed to go to with his boss... he had all the paperwork... what he had spent so long in the office prepping the night before... Change in plans - his boss would be stopping by our house to pick it up while we headed to the hospital!
While we had our hospital bag packed in advance, there were the last minute items we needed. Oh yeah, and I took a shower first! There was no way I was going to the hospital without one! We took our time rounding up the last minute items as we both started making our phone calls to parents, siblings, and close friends. My favorite response was from my step-mom. She had just texted prior to my discovery of my water breaking that she had 8 inches of snow at her house. I call her, she answers and promptly says "don't tell me you are in labor" - I say "I love you! You better start plowing the road because my water has broken!" As I'm finishing up attempting to figure out how to not leak all over the place, Patrick's boss shows up at our house to retrieve all the paperwork - I casually yell down 'hi' to him.
We finally make it to the car and start heading to the hospital. We called my doc's office while on the way to let them know. By this time, huge snowflakes were falling and rush hour was in full swing. Because no one can ever remember how to drive in any sort of weather, multiple accidents had happened, making the drive take a bit longer... I was pretty calm for the most part, breathing through my contractions that were getting stronger. We finally made it to the hospital and temporarily parked where we had been instructed to multiple times. The snow had increased significantly. Patrick wheeled out a wheelchair for me and we made our way up to Labor & Delivery. Filled out my little registration card and then we wheeled in to the triage area where we would be for what seemed like an eternity. And so began our lengthy list of amazing nurses who took excellent care of me.
After our lengthy triage time, we finally got ushered to our delivery room - the largest suite there! SCORE one for us! By this time, most of our family had arrived and made their way to our room once I got all hooked up to the monitors. Who knew we would be there for a LONG time... The doc on call turned out to be the director of my clinic, fabulous! I knew we would be in good hands. Because I hadn't progressed much, they let me eat - I was thrilled (again.... not aware that would be my last meal for a very long time...) We settled in to hanging out, with me working through my contractions. They were most definitely getting stronger, but still not as consistent... As we approached the 12 hour mark, I assumed the doc would instantly say it was time for pitocin. When he checked in on me, he asked how I was feeling, I told him I thought I was really starting to progress - my contractions had seemed to pick up and were most definitely stronger. Miraculously - he didn't make me start pitocin! Said we could keep going and they would continue to monitor me. 3am rolled around and my contractions had started doing this funny cluster thing.... I would get a number of strong ones back to back and then I would go for a period of time without them... so... the doc said it was pitocin time. The nurse said they were going to just give me a "whiff" of it in my IV. I was having the good contractions, we just needed to help regulate them to more consistency. So pitocin it was.
Things started to finally pick up. My contractions really started to pick up. I was doing a pretty good job and working through them... except for the back pain. A few hours later and I couldn't handle the back pain anymore. I needed drugs. So... IV drugs began.... kicked in... I felt freaking fabulous! So great that I was able to relax and just chill out... for a whole 20 minutes... You see... when labor isn't that far along but you can't really handle the pain, the IV drug will last up to 45 minutes... when your labor is at the point that mine was... the drug will only last 20 minutes... As it wore off, I came out of my stupor to go through the wrenching, painful, massive contractions I had just gotten relief from really feeling... Ohh the pain... I begged for the good stuff, the stuff that wouldn't go away... The Epidural. The nurse ordered it and said it would be about 45 minutes.... there was no way I was going to make it 45 minutes! I BEGGED for it to not take so long... The anesthesiologist showed up about 5-10 minutes later. Finally all hooked up and feeling much relief, I settled down to relax and attempt to get some sleep since it was almost 7am.
We got a surprise visitor a little bit later - my doc! Checking in on me before he went to his office. At about 10, the next on-call doc came in to check in and say hi - we had an appointment with her a few weeks prior so we knew her and were comfortable with her! Yay! A little while later my doc stopped in again. Around 11:45 I started to feel different... I was feeling some really really strong contractions and pressure... my nurse came in to check... and whadya know? It was GO TIME! A little over an hour of pushing and my little angel made his debut! We had a minor little scare - the cord was wrapped around his neck - but - no sooner had the doc informed us about it, she had it fixed and he was out!
I had made two different playlists for labor - one was dubbed my "calming" mix and the other was my "push" mix. Right before I started pushing, I decided to only play Mumford & Sons. Just as Joseph was making his debut - Little Lion Man was blaring through the speakers!
30+ hours of labor. I was exhausted. I'm not even sure that exhausted does justice for how I felt... Delirious. Seriously. And starving. I was so hungry I could barely eat once I got food.
2 Days later and we got to drive home with our little guy.
Here are a few more pics of our precious Joseph:
