Sunday, January 12, 2014

Life goes on...

It has been quite some time since I felt the need to write. So much has happened in the past six months. It took me about four months for the nausea from HG to subside where I wasn't plagued by it every couple of days. I still have some issues at night every once in a while and still take a reglan occasionally. 

When baby girl was born, I had an infection so as a precaution the hospital wanted to put her on iv antibiotics. I knew this but what happened was something that upsets me to this day. After she was born, they wrapped her up and gave her to my husband to hold. After about five minutes, they took her, put her in the bassinet and said "ok, we're taking her to the nursery now." I was shocked and dumbfounded. Incredulously, I asked them "for what?!" I was told it was for her bath. I immediately told my husband to go with her. I did not want her out of our eyesight. He asked if I was sure and I told him that yes, I was sure and I would be fine. He went. What happened afterward is a terrible nightmare for me. They told him she needed an iv. For some reason, he told them to go ahead and give it. I had been very clear in my wishes for her to eat as soon as possible yet he did not heed that. I was not included in the decision nor was I even informed.

After I was wheeled back to my room, I kept asking for my baby. They kept blowing me off with oh, she's coming soon, she's coming. Then it became they were trying to get an iv in her. Then they told me they had failed so they were going to bring her to me and try again. Finally, FOUR HOURS after she was born my husband left my room and went up to the nursery to find out why they were stalling. 

In the meantime, a NICU doctor came into my room. I lit into her. I had started crying unconsolably.  I let out all my frustration. Babies are supposed to nurse within their first hour of life, two at the most, to make for the best possible start to the breastfeeding relationship between mom and child. Yet here it was four hours after her birth and my baby was still MIA. If the nurses weren't able to get the iv line in for an hour, why in the world had they kept her for so long? Why not let her eat which - novel concept - would hydrate her then try again? I was extremely mad at the nursery staff and the poor NICU doc got to hear it all. 

After she listened to me rant she told me since the iv wasn't working they would have to place an umbilical catheter and because of this, my baby would need to go to the NICU. I consented since I had zero desire to prevent her from getting antibiotics as a precaution because of my infection and fever. However, I begged that they bring me my baby so she could eat. Not too long later my husband brought her in. What I did not know, but found out later, was that he forced the nursery to give her to him. He even threatened to take her AMA before they finally consented to relinquish her. All we wanted was for them to stop torturing her with pokes and prods so she could bond with her family and be able to eat!

As a result, it took quite some time for us to adjust to nursing. All the stress made my body stop producing colostrum after the first day. In order for her to come out of the NICU after she was cleared from having any kind of infection, her blood glucose needed to be at 60. She wasn't eating, she would just flail around and cry when I would try to nurse her. I know it was because nothing was coming out (due to both a medication I had been taking which is known to dry up production and high stress levels). I wasn't able to get anything out with a pump. So we ended up giving her formula. Not something I wanted to do, but I didn't want her stuck in there on an iv line any longer than she already was. Thankfully, the next morning my milk finally came in and she would nurse again. 

Almost seven months later, she's my breastfeeding champ. She has completed our family and helped me heal from what was a horrific and long journey. October was hard. It was the one year anniversary of my introduction to the nightmare that is HG. It was the one year anniversary of my dad's passing. November marked 12 years since the loss of my grandma. December found me sitting contemplating how sick I was a year ago and rejoicing that I'm alive and fairly healthy this year. December 24th was the 10th anniversary of my granny's passing. These things have hit me hard this year. 

On a positive note, I'm six pounds away from my goal weight - what I weighed before I got pregnant with my oldest. Little man has been going potty on the "big boy potty" for about a week now. He has lots of progress to make still but the thought that I may only have one in diapers soon is so exciting! My sweet baby girl is super healthy and huge (23lb 7.5oz at her six month checkup December 26th). My older daughter (Goose) has been doing very well with the palatal expander she had put in in December. 

My life is forever changed by what I experienced while pregnant this last time. I don't think I will ever get nauseated again and not be traumatized by it. Whenever I get a stomachache it freaks me out in fear that the nausea won't leave and I will be stuck like that forever. I had a stomach virus at the beginning of November and the flashbacks were unnerving. I truly pray that my experience and my ramblings about it will help someone else in some way. Even if it's just that they know they're not alone. That someone else has been there. That someone else can understand their struggle. I know how much having a support system helped me. It still helps. I pray somehow, some way, I will find peace from HG and be able to live my life without fear of a disease that took all control from my life. 

Little man in his Colts sweatshirt. 
Baby girl being her usual happy self
Goose hanging her ornament from Grandma on the tree
Me with my girls