I don’t want to be done…

As the months progress and I watch my second born grow, I’m realizing how fast time flies. She’s starting to be more alert and smile more. Before I know it, she’ll be holding her head up on her own and then from there she’ll learn to roll over and crawl and then walk and talk. My first born is already forming full sentences and learning new things every day. It’s a bittersweet feeling. Whenever I see pictures of my first born little, I can remember the time and how the days went. I can remember watching her grow. I just never realized that it actually happened so quickly. My second born isn’t even 6 months old yet. She’s almost 4 months old though, so 6 isn’t far behind. Even though she’s still a baby, I’m wishing the newness of her wasn’t passing by go quickly. She just recently stopped waking up every 3 hours at night. Sometimes she sleeps through the night. Sometimes she wakes up once or twice. She’s growing. She’s becoming older and it makes me sad.

It literally feels like the NICU days were just yesterday. I remember her birth. I remember my stay and her stay in the hospital. I remember the trips to the hospital. I remember knowing that it was best for her there but hating I had to be so far away. I remember feeling like a crappy mom because she wasn’t home with me. I remember everything so vividly. How the week went leading up to her coming into this world way to early. I remember being scared the night before I had her. My biggest fear was having to have a C-Section and I thank god every day that I didn’t have too. I remember all this like it just happened yesterday. But it didn’t. Soon, she’ll be 4 months old. And then so on and so forth. Before I know it, she’ll be a year old. And all I’ll have are the memories of all this. It makes me sad because she’ll be the last baby I have. Don’t get me wrong, I want more babies. I always pictured myself with at least 3. 2 girls, 1 boy or 1 girl and 2 boys. I’ll never have that though. Just because I WANT another baby doesn’t mean that I’ll HAVE another baby. As much as I’m not ready to be done, my brain tells me that I should be.

My heart breaks at the thought of being done though. If I knew she was absolutely going to be the last baby I had, I would have done things differently during my pregnancy. I would have taken those monthly pictures. I would have painted my stomach for Halloween. Or just took more pregnancy pictures in general. But that stuff didn’t happen because I found myself with no time. I found myself constantly busy raising my toddler. And I always thought to myself that I’d have at least once more, especially once I found out she was a girl. I love everything about my daughter but I also wanted my chance at a boy. And thinking about that boy just makes me yearn so much more for another baby. I was told by my gynecologist that I could have kids but they’d make me take a shot. It was offered during this pregnancy but I opted out since my first born wasn’t crazy early. But my brain can’t stop thinking about the “What ifs..”

“What if I took the shots and the baby was full term? Would my body be able to handle it? Would I be able to deliver naturally like my other too?”

“What if I needed a C-Section? I hear they’re very painful and the recovery time is longer than a vaginal delivery. How would I take care of two children while being in pain? Who would help me take care of myself? How many days would I want to cry because of the pain?”

“What if, even with the shots, the baby was born prematurely? How prematurely would it be born? Would it be born at the 36 week mark like my first born and be fine to come home? Would it be born like my second and have to stay at the hospital until she was cleared to go home? If born too premature, who would take care of my two other children while in the hospital? Could I handle leaving another child until it was well enough to come home? What if it was born way to premature and only weighed a pound when it was born? What if it had to stay longer than 12 days? How would I be able to afford that?”

“What if I took the shots? What if they didn’t work? What if I had a reaction to them?”

All the what ifs and hows and whys. They drive me insane. I yearn to have another baby. I don’t want to be done having children. I wanted three. I wanted a somewhat big family. I want to keep raising my children because it’s such an amazing family. Being a mother is something I’m good at. Something I feel like I was born to do. Watching my children grow and learn and become their own person is such an amazing feeling, especially because I’m a Stay at Home Mom. I can take credit for everything that they learned because I’m the one teaching them. When they become potty trained or learn a letter or their name or how to count, I can say “I did that. That’s because of me.” And that’s an incredible feeling. Being a parent is such a demanding job and even though it has it’s bad moments, I wouldn’t trade them for the world. I love being a mom and I’d love to have a third child. But just because it’s something that I want doesn’t necessarily mean that it’s going to happen. Because in my brain, I know it’s not plausible to have another one. And that truly breaks my heart.


Hospital Staff

I want to dedicate a blog post to the hospital staff. I can’t thank the nurses enough who took care of my daughter and made sure she was fed and changed and taken care of while she had to be in the NICU. It may be there job, but some of the nurses were extremely helpful and extremely nice and went above and beyond what they were required to do. While some of the nurses were nice and helpful, there were a couple that could have taken notes from the others. For example, the nurse who discharged us didn’t seem to know what she was doing and seemed to be a little bipolar. One minute she was nice to us and the next moment she was mean. She didn’t seem to know what she was doing when it came to the computer and writing the information down. She didn’t even know the correct information about coats and car seats. She had no idea how to tighten it and was very rude and not helpful at all when trying to tighten it. All she kept saying was you need to figure it out. I’ll have to call the Car Seat lady. We need to get this test started. She was just rude about it. I honestly couldn’t wait to leave the hospital that day.

The nurse who was in the delivery room with me was nice and so was the doctor who actually delivered my baby.

After labor

My first labor was fine. I got to go home, take my baby home, and get thrown into the world of being a first time mom. It was the second labor that drove me crazy.

Since my baby was born premature, she had to stay in the NICU. However, she was breathing on her own and everything depended on her. She was on a feeding tube but was taking a bottle and suckling herself. The main thing they were worried about was that she wouldn’t be good a suckling because of how early she was. That wasn’t the case with her. They told me 5-10 days the most. The hospital I delivered at was 2 hours away from home. I was 2 hours from my first born daughter. 2 hours from my family. 2 hours from all the tasks that waited for me at home. I couldn’t take it.

I ended up leaving the hospital a day early. I felt like a shitty mom to leave. I really did. I was leaving my baby with people I didn’t know, trusting her in their hands. But I was needed back at home. My first born missed me. She was also being a terror and not listening. Her daddy was home but she isn’t as close with him as she is with me. I tried to video chat her but she got sad after awhile of seeing me. So, I talked to the nurse about going home and they said I’d have to wait until they could talk to the doctors. It was morning and the doctors were busy. It was also starting to snow out, so that didn’t make me happy. My chances of going home were looking pretty slim.

Out of the two nights I stayed at the hospital, I probably got 5 hours of sleep if that. The first night I didn’t sleep because that was when I was in labor. I slept for maybe an hour that morning after everything was situated. Then I stayed up that whole day. The next night, I tried to get some sleep but the nurses came in right when I went to sleep and then I woke up in the middle of the night and couldn’t fall back to sleep. So, I stayed awake and played on my phone. Once I finally was able to fall back to sleep, the nurses came in again. So, it was another night with no sleep.

That morning when the nurse came in, I asked them if I could go home. They told me that they would have to check with the doctors who were busy with surgeries. I had to wait. I waited and waited. I was desperate to get out of there. I ended up waiting until like 2:30 or so in the afternoon. I went to see my daughter a few times in the NICU. She was doing good. Still breathing on her own and drinking her bottles. She wasn’t keeping everything down but they were slowly increasing it. I talked to a doctor and they said that she’d probably be able to go home in 5 days. They wanted to keep her the rest of the weekend to keep an eye on her. They also had to make sure she could maintain her own temperature and keep her food down and that she didn’t have any infections. That 5 days turned into a week and a half, but I’ll get to that. I did end up going home that night. I was such a hot mess when I finally saw my daughter. I gave her a big hug. I missed her so much. My mom and boyfriend went to visit the baby. I packed up earlier and was ready to leave. The ride home took forever though because it was snowing outside and we had to drive carefully because the roads were bad. I felt like shit for making them come get me in the snow but I was more use at home. We got home around 9:00 that night and had to eat dinner still. I also had to shower and unpack my stuff and pump and get everything situated back at home. I was exhausted and just ready for bed.

It was rough being home. I honestly felt like I wasn’t wanted there. Everyone was so crabby and it didn’t help that my hormones were out of control and that I was crabby and exhausted. I felt better the next day after having some sleep. I actually ended up going shopping with my mom the next day. I tried to prepare things in case my daughter got to come home that Monday. That didn’t end up happening. She didn’t end up coming home for a week and a half. It was the longest time of my life. I hated being home without her. I felt like some shitty mom who didn’t have her kid. I stayed with the same schedule I had. Got up whenever my first born did. I pumped milk and stored it. My boyfriend and I tried to plan trips down there, which was extremely hard with his work and the toddler and how far it was. I hated having my mom watch my toddler all the time. I felt like a shitty mom there. I had a day where I just lost it and cried. I was stressed. I was worrying about my daughter (it was on a day that we learned that she had a bout of apnea but they didn’t say apnea, they just said her vitals dropped). So, here I’m thinking somethings going to happen to my daughter and I’m the shitty mom who didn’t stay at the hospital or near the hospital with her. That was one of the thoughts on my mind. Then I’m thinking about how she’s going to be my last baby, how I won’t have any more kids after her. So, I was sad over that and the fact that I wouldn’t have the boy I wanted. I was just a whole range of emotions and the one night I just couldn’t take it anymore and broke down. My boyfriend tried to talk to me but I honestly just wanted to be alone. I didn’t want to talk about anything. I just wanted everything to be right in the world. I wanted my daughter healthy and home. I wanted to not feel the way I did. That one day did it for me though. I still constantly worried about my daughter. Every time we called the hospital though they said she was doing good. We made a few trips down there. I brought them the milk I was producing. We stayed for a little while every time, then went back home to do the things we had to do there. It was always nice to visit her, just hard. She looked like she was ready to come home. It was especially hard when they moved her to a bassinet. She looked ready to go and like she didn’t need any help. She was only there to be supervised because of the bout of apnea.

1 week and a half later she came home. And that’s when things really changed. I’ll make that it’s own post though.

Labor (the second time around)

Warning: Too Much Information included

The week I went into labor was a week from hell. I was only 34 weeks along. I honestly thought I had at least 2 more weeks to go, since my first baby came at 36 weeks. I didn’t think this one would come sooner. I was slowly preparing things for her arrival but I wasn’t rushing it because I honestly thought I had time. I knew in my heart that I wouldn’t make it full term, just figured I’d make it to 36 weeks like the first. The previous week I had an appointment with my OBGYN and everything was fine. In two weeks, I would have another appointment with her and I would have to have an exam. (Same exam that I missed with my first one.) Anyways, I had that OBGYN appointment and then the following week I  had an ultrasound appointment to check out how the baby was developing and make sure her weight was good. (Side note: I had a lot of ultra sounds this time around because they were checking to make sure she was on track with growing.) So, my my boyfriend has the opportunity to stay home from work sometimes. He usually stays home on Thursdays to help me out (other days I have my mom). So, I told him to just let me shower and he could go into work since he already took a lot of days off work that week. Monday there was a snow storm. Then Tuesday and Wednesday, I wasn’t feeling good and I had doctor appointments so he took me to those and was helping with the toddler. So, he didn’t listen to me and he stayed home. Well, he’s a dispatcher and he works for his dad. So his dad calls him up and yells at him for missing calls or whatever, when in reality his phone was ringing off the hook and he was answering all his calls. So, the toddler was on nap time when I heard this all going on. He said he needed to go into the office. It’s around 2 in the afternoon. So he left. Well, as he was walking out the toddler woke up and I never did get her back to sleep. A couple hours later, my mom came home and we ended up eating dinner We were having pizza that night. I was sitting at the table and I had my dog on my lap. I got up to put her on the couch and when I did, I felt wetness. So I excused myself from the table and went to the bathroom. My underwear were wet. So I changed them and went back into the dining room. But the wetness didn’t stop. So I told my mom, went back into the bathroom to put a new pair of underwear on and a pad. I called my boyfriend and told him I needed him home now and told him what was going on. He left work and on his way called the doctor. He then called me back. They called my doctor and she was going to meet us at the hospital. I had to be checked out because it sounded to them like my water broke. So, my boyfriend tells me to have my mom meet him. I get my daughter ready to go in the car and my mom takes me to meet my boyfriend. I’m in tears because I’m hoping the baby is okay. I have no idea what is going to happen. My boyfriend told me on the phone that if my water was broken and I wasn’t dilated that I’d have to be taken to a different hospital because they don’t have a NICU at the one where I was going. So, I didn’t grab anything but my phone charger since my phone was dying. When I arrived at the hospital, I got out of the car and I could feel the wetness through my pants. My pants were soaked. They told us to check in but there wasn’t anyone there to check in so my boyfriend brought me up to the maternity ward and then he had to go back down to register me. While he got me registered, I got changed and had to pee in a cup and all of that mumbo jumbo. They tried to get an IV in me and were failing horribly. My boyfriend came back up and the doctor arrive shortly after. She checked my cervix and I wasn’t dilated, so that meant that I did have to go to another hospital (which was an hour and a half away.) They called to set up the ambulance to take me there. My doctor also check the amniotic fluid and said that it was low so my water definitely broke somehow. So, I waited there until the ambulance came. I got to take my first ever ambulance ride. I was a crying mess because I was scared. I had to leave my daughter with my mom and be far away. I wouldn’t have my mom this time I delivered and everything wasn’t going as I had hoped for. (Reason why I never made a birth plan the first time around.)

The ambulance ride went fine. It turns out the driver of it was actually someone I knew. He used to work at the store I worked at before I had my first child. Small world. The lady in the back talked to me a bit. I was busy texting at times. I was trying to keep my mom in the loop and then texting my best friend and telling her that I actually wouldn’t be seeing her that weekend. So, she continued to text me which was nice because she was helping me take my mind off what was about to happen. Anyways, the trip seemed to take forever. I don’t even remember what time we finally arrived at the hospital. I was taken into a room and they transferred me to a bed. The nurse talked to me. I filled out some papers. And then an OBGYN came in and talked to me. They made my boyfriend leave and then couldn’t find him. He was only supposed to leave for a minute but some other nurse told him he couldn’t wait where he was. So I ended up being alone through the exam they needed to do and the sonogram that they did. They looked at the amniotic fluid and she estimated the baby’s weight to be 5 pounds and change. So, that was set up. I eventually had someone come in to talk to me about epidurals and if I wanted one. I signed the papers just in case but ultimately, I didn’t get one. Anyways,I got something to help induce labor. I was supposed to get another one around 3 or 4 in the morning. Then they would start me on Pitocin. I never made it that far. My contractions seemed really close together but they didn’t come in the room that much. I ended up having to pee a lot. It got closer to 3 in the morning and my contractions were becoming unbearable. I had them call the lady back in to talk to me about the epidural. I was on the fence about it because I really didn’t want a catheter put in me and they said that they would have too. The contractions continued to get worse and I just said screw it and told them to do it. They checked to see how much I was dilated and I was 7cm. So, the lady was in the room to do the epidural and they said I had to sit still for 30 minutes. I went to sit up and then I told them I couldn’t. I said that I needed to push now. My body was telling me to push. The one nurse was like you can’t push now. The OBGYN checked me again and I was 10cm now and it was time to push.

During my first labor, I had no idea what I was doing. I never watched videos and never seen a birth, except those on TV. So, I always assumed you just screamed during labor. I didn’t know how to properly breathe or any of that. So, this time around I tried to remember what the nurses told me about breathing and pushing during my first child. How you’re supposed to release the breath as you pushed and you push like your pooping. During my first labor, I screamed. During my first labor, I also got yelled at by the OBGYN for screaming. Not a good first time experience. During this labor, I screamed. However, I did not get yelled at. I remembered everything that night. I could feel the pain as she came out. Once she was out, that pain disappeared. It was like magic. I couldn’t even remember it. I knew that labor hurt. I just can’t remember how bad. It’s funny how our body makes us forget things like that. Anyways, I remember most of what happened during labor. They made me hold my legs far out. A nurse held one leg while my boyfriend held the other. I remember when she was finally out and how I saw her for a minute and then they took her to get cleaned up and check on her. I remember hearing her cry and thinking “She’s crying. She’s okay.” The NICU nurses were in the room working on getting her cleaned up while I was cleaned up. I remember the nurse getting the placenta out and making sure it was all out. I remember not having any tears or having to be cut. I remember how shaky my legs were after giving birth. I couldn’t even control them. They just kept shaking. I remember that I got to hold my daughter for a couple minutes before the whisked her away to NICU. Then I wasn’t allowed to see her for an hour.

That hour dragged. I counted it down. I watched the clock. I wanted to know my baby was okay. All I could think about was something going wrong and them not telling me. All I could think about was how she was off somewhere else while I was sitting in a room waiting to see her. My boyfriend napped a bit for that hour. I just laid on the bed, waiting, shaking. When the time was finally up, I got to sit in a wheelchair. I collected my belongings and my boyfriend pushed me to where we needed to go. A nurse showed us the way.

My little girl was okay. She didn’t have a name because my boyfriend and I couldn’t decide between two of them. She was either going to be a Harper or a Harmony. But she was okay. She was breathing on her own. They had a bunch of wires strapped to her but she was doing good. I was happy. We stayed there watching her for a while and then was shown to where I would be staying. Apparently, you share rooms at that hospital. So my boyfriend wasn’t allowed to stay in the room with me. He ended up having to sleep in the waiting room. I barely ended up sleeping at all. Once I finally did fall asleep, they came in to check on me and then it was just pointless. A night of loss sleep but my baby girl was healthy and here and that’s all that mattered.