Gaining, Losing, Forgiving, Loving

This is not going to be an easy post for me to write. I haven't shared my experiences with my first birth publicly, although if someone asks, I don't shy away from it. I feel like, to really understand my relationship with the girls, this needs to be shared.

When we found out we were having Lala, we were overjoyed. We were planning on having a home birth, and having her in our bath tub. We were gaining a daughter and starting the family we dreamed of!

After 5 days of prodromal labor, high blood pressure and no signs of progress, we were transferred to the hospital. My water had broken right before we went, but when we were checked in, my contractions stopped. The disappointment of not getting the birth I planned, 5 days of exhaustion, doctors who wouldn't listen/didn't believe anything I said, pitocin and an epidural made for a rough labor.

Lala made her appearance after only 5 minutes of pushing. Instead of the overwhelming joy of seeing her and holding her, I just felt exhausted. I looked at my husband, saw his tears of joy and felt so guilty.

Fast forward 2 months. Lala isn't very big, I'm feeling incredibly disconnected and we get told two devastating things at one appointment. First was that I had failed to produce enough milk to feed her, and so in a month, she hadn't gained any weight. Even though she was meeting her developmental milestones, her doctor labeled her as "failing to thrive". (We eventually changed doctors....) Then, after hearing how I was feeling, she told me that I "most likely" had Postpartum Depression (ppd). However, with all this news, she sent me to a lactation specialist who just told me I wasn't trying hard enough. I wasn't given any resources or medication or help for the ppd. Just, "oh, you probably have this."

Nursing failed, even after all the suggestions and work I was putting into it. We switched doctors and she encouraged me to try a specific formula. She also gave me tons of resources for help and prescribed medication. Lala started to gain weight and became this chubby, happy girl. She started sleeping through the night at 2 months, probably because she was finally full. The guilt I felt was overwhelming.

Even with medication, I was having thoughts about how my husband and Lala would be better off without me. That I should just go away and he would raise her right. I was a horrible mother and couldn't even feed her with my body. What kind of person was I if I didn't feel love or couldn't care for her the way I just should!? These were all the ppd talking. My husband was scared and confused by all of this, and for the first 6 months, I have to say that he did more for Lala than I did. I just wanted to spend hours in bed, alone.

After several months, lots of conversations with a lot of people, I had a breakthrough conversation with my brother Bubba. He was explaining a lot of things to me and gave me a very different perspective on the struggles I was still having. He and I haven't always gotten along, but knowing that he was able to talk to me about all of the things I was feeling was huge. I started to engage more, become more connected with Lala and rejoin the world.

I stopped meds right before her first birthday, because I was feeling numb and wanted to be able to be myself again.

Watching her grow into the amazing 2.5 year old she is has been a trip.

When we found out we were having Gogo, all the fear of the birth came flooding back. I wasn't excited about being pregnant again, about having to go through that hell again. About the ppd coming back. About not connecting with my second daughter.

We were seeing completely different midwives this time, planning a hospital birth instead, but wanting to try for the natural one we missed out on. The group at Evergreen Hospital was incredibly supportive. They wanted to know the whole story about my past experience. They asked questions, addressed my fears, suggested several things to help with the stress and anxiety I was going through. Finally, one suggested, after hearing everything and asking her own set of questions, that what I went through was actually a little bit of PTSD. I balked at that, thinking it wasn't something someone had from a bad birthing experience, but the more she explained the similarities, the more it made sense.

All of them promised a different experience this time.

On January 16th, I went into labor, but I didn't think I was. I thought I had just peed my pants (it had been a hilarious issue I'd  been dealing with for months at that point). I went to take a bath, when I realized that I was, in fact, having regular contractions.

Lala was dropped off at Tutu and BobBob's, we checked in and were THRILLED to get the midwife that I had wanted. She was calm, funny and straightforward. It started out SO well. My blood pressure spiked again, so they put in an IV, but I didn't need to be hooked up to anything yet. I was free to just walk, sit, labor exactly how I wanted. My husband was making me laugh, I got to eat, take a bath, relax....the atmosphere was so different.

Finally it was time to push, and after about 45 minutes, I got to catch Gogo. The pure joy I felt at having done all of this, by myself, with no drugs....it was such a rush. I cried. I forgave myself for feeling guilty about Lala's birth, I let it go. This birth had redeemed it.

A few hours later, Lala came to meet her sister. The pure joy and love I felt at seeing BOTH my girls together for the first time filled my heart to bursting.

Now here we are, 4 months later, and I couldn't imagine my life any other way. I can recognize when I get frustrated, disconnected, sad and attribute it to the ppd. I've addressed the issues I have, and with such an amazing partner at my side, I'm able to enjoy these times like I wasn't able to last time.

It's an incredible feeling. Letting this traumatic experience go, and having such a positive one. It's like a weight has been lifted and I've made it through...seeing these beautiful girls I have and the relationship I get to build with them.

I'm one lucky mom.