HAHA. Good one, Baby Center. Or bite me. Whatever.

Riley is now 15 days old. Fifteen days old! I can’t believe she has been with us for two whole weeks now. This has been the longest and shortest two weeks of my life. It has also been one of the most challenging 15 days I have lived through. Ever.

Let’s be real here: I’m an anxious person. “Laid back” isn’t one of the top 10 adjectives people would use to describe my personality. In high school, I struggled with pretty major anxiety and even took medication at one point to help control it. Over the past several years, I have basically managed to conquer my anxiety with the rare exception (like when I broke up with my ex-boyfriend in college or while working at my last job). I should have known it was a very real possibility my anxiety would rear its ugly head post-partum.

I’m not going to lie, the past two weeks have been rough emotionally. Yes, I am so happy to have my little girl in my arms finally. She is definitely the apple of my eye. However, I have not felt the level of anxiety I experienced these past 15 days in nearly 5 years. Breast feeding has been quite the challenge, I have been exceptionally hard on myself, and I think I spent more time crying (or sobbing hysterically) than smiling the past two weeks. Again, I’m not saying I didn’t have happy moments, just that it was overshadowed by this perpetual fear and anxiety.

My mom was amazing that first week and I am so thankful she was here with me. I am also eternally grateful that I have such a wonderful, supportive husband. My dad has also been a tremendous help, with everything from running small errands (he saved us when we had a diaper emergency) to giving me a shoulder to cry on to helping RJ and I out so I can stay out of work for 12 weeks. I don’t think it would be possible to survive those first couple of weeks without help and I admire all women who manage to do this with little to no support. I don’t think I would have lasted more than two days (you know, the two I was in the hospital).

Breast feeding will probably warrant its own post, but it’s definitely not as “easy” and “natural” as the “breast is best” advocates like to tout. I’m not denying that it is “natural” but it is certainly not easy and warrants a learning curve. I have a newfound respect for moms, particularly those that continue to breast feed. I am still breast feeding (almost exclusively, although there have been moments of sheer desperation and exhaustion that have led me to use the samples of formula I had stuffed in the back of the closet), but it’s a constant struggle. The biggest reason I continue to do so is guilt, plain and simple. Guilt and the fact that my husband has been quite the trooper/cheerleader and faithfully gets up with me every night, changes her diaper, and coaches me through each session. Between cracked nipples, milk blisters, latch problems, issues with feelings inadequate, guilt for not enjoying breast feeding nor possessing much of a drive to continue doing it, exhaustion, pain, my baby’s barracuda approach to nursing, and two thousand lactation consultant appointments, I’m still trucking along, trying to reach small milestones that change by the hour (like making it two weeks or to the next feeding or to four weeks and so on).

Today has been a remarkable improvement. I am still very sleep deprived and I continue to loathe breast feeding (I feel like Bessie the Cow), but I’m taking it one feeding at a time and trying to enjoy time with Riley. It helps that she hasn’t spent a majority of the day screaming like a banshee (that was all she did yesterday). I’m trying to take one day at a time, learning to trust my instincts (and to not discount the number of very poopy diapers she has every day), and take a deep breath.

I’m a little nervous about tomorrow because RJ returns to work so I will be ON MY OWN during the day. I have my 2 week post-partum appointment tomorrow that I have to tackle solo. My dad took the day off, though, so I have a place to escape and a person to lean on if the going gets rough. I am also terrified of nursing in public for the first time, hooter hiders or not! It’s intimidating, especially since we still fumble around to get latched on and to start the nursing session.

Anyway, time to go. Miss Riley needs a new diaper then it’s off to Target to buy some essentials. Ta ta for now!

As you know, I was planning to deliver Riley au naturale at Fruitful Vine, a birth center attended by midwives. Nature had different plans for me apparently! At 41 weeks and 6 days, I decided to move forward with induction of labor. After some groveling and favors, I was admitted to the hospital under the care of an obstetrician and certified nurse midwife (CNM) around 1 o’clock on Friday. I was very nervous and scared. At one point, I became very faint and diaphoretic. I sucked down some ice chips and panted my way through my near-fainting spell.

After meeting with the CNM and discussing the plan, she inserted the first dose of Cytotec. I had to lie down for the first two hours to monitor Riley and ensure the pill was absorbed. After that, I was told I could switch to intermittent fetal monitoring until the next dose was given. Wash, rinse, repeat. Unfortunately the nurse was uncomfortable removing me from the monitor because Riley would have little decels in her heart rate from time to time. At one point, the nurse rolled me onto my side and started me on oxygen.

The CNM came back around 6 or so and inserted the second dose of Cytotec. The nurses switched shifts shortly after. Around the time I was supposed to come off of continuous monitoring, we realized the pill had dislodged itself from up there. They decided against inserting another dose because they weren’t sure how much I absorbed, told me to eat some dinner with RJ, get some rest (ha!), and prepare for the next day, when I assume they would have started me on Pitocin.

My mom was on her way up from South Florida at this point. Since she would have the longest drive of all the grandparents, we figured it would be easier for her to head up in the evening. I start losing track of time at this point, but around 10 o’clock, I noticed a regular, rhythmic cramping pain. I timed a few of the contractions out of boredom and noticed they were lasting 30-45 seconds and about 2 minutes apart. It was becoming more difficult to talk through the cramps (as in, my voice was strained, but I could carry on conversation) and they definitely started to hurt.

Since they wouldn’t let me walk around, I kept asking to use the bathroom because the most comfortable position was sitting on the toilet and hunching over the shower chair. They would let me off the monitor to use the bathroom so it was workable. I kept telling them I had to do a #2 (sorry to be so graphic, but it’s true!) so I could buy more time in the bathroom. (Side note: Eventually RJ suggested sitting in a chair near the monitor because the nurse caught on to my clever ploy to avoid laying in bed by sneaking off to the bathroom. Several times they tried to get me to lie down because of decels in Riley’s heart rate, but once my contractions really started to hit me and hit me HARD, I basically refused to lay in bed.)

My mom arrived at the hospital around 11 o’clock and we hung out with her for a little bit before she headed to our house to check on the cats and get some rest. We still didn’t think I would be having a baby without further intervention (I’m not sure why! those contractions were no joke). I opted to take an Ambien because I was anxious and wanted to try and rest before they continued with my induction in the morning.

Well, at 12 in the morning, all bets were off. These contractions were getting real. I wasn’t able to sleep and I was in excruciating pain. RJ was a champ and really helped me through each contraction by doing whatever I wanted to sooth the pain in my back. I was surprised by my reaction to the pain. I expected to be quite bitchy, but I sort of zoned out and went into a mental hidey hole each time one hit.

By 2 am, I was in unbearable pain. I texted Hope, the midwife from Fruitful Vine, who had helped me connect with the CNM at the hospital. She had asked that I call her if/when the pain became too much or I was considering pain medications and when it was time for the baby to be delivered because she wanted to be there for the birth even if I wasn’t at the birth center. She arrived shortly thereafter and talked me through some “contractions.” I say “contractions” because at this point, I felt like I was experiencing one giant contraction with some peaks of more intense contractions.

At this point, I was back in bed on my side. I really have no idea how long Hope was there or the order of the next series of events. I do know I had a death grip locked on the bed rail. RJ and Hope talked me through each contraction, massaging me when I wanted a massage and backing off when I clearly didn’t want any hands on me. At this point, I told Hope I wanted an epidural. I couldn’t handle the pain anymore. Cytotec can cause really strong contractions (they call it Cytoblast) and the thought of being in this much pain for a second longer made me want to jump out the window. I was writhing in pain, shaking uncontrollably, and repeatedly threatening to throw up.

Hope suggested the nurse check me again. She told me there was no shame in needing pain medications with an induction, I had done really well, and ultimately my choice was the right choice for me. Well, the nurse came in and checked me and I was 9 cm! I had dilated from 5 cm to 9 cm in an hour and a half. No wonder I was in SO. MUCH. PAIN. Whoever compared labor to kidney stones is an asshole, seriously. I have had kidney stones and the pain is not even remotely comparable.

Well, that settled that. There was no point in getting an epidural. I decided to tough it out. Things moved really quickly at this point. The nurse called the CNM who was on her way to the hospital. We were going to have a baby… soon. At this point, I told Hope that I had to push. I couldn’t help it. So she told me to push, which is exactly what I did. I kept telling the nurse over and over again I had to push but the CNM hadn’t arrived yet. She said that was fine, but she would be there soon. I just kept repeating myself, “I have to push, I’m going to push, I can’t wait.” All while moaning and acting a fool in the hospital bed.

Finally the CNM arrived and it was go time! I have never seen such a production… Suddenly the room was filled with people and tools and rolling carts. I assumed the position (flat on my back, how awkward!) and both the nurse and RJ grabbed my legs and pulled them up. I started to push (I mean, really push) and feeling something trickle down between my legs. I remember asking the CNM “DID I JUST POOP?!” and her telling me I hadn’t. I was completely convinced I pooped during labor and the whole room, including my husband, kept reassuring me I had not pooped. I was so worried about pooping in front of all of these people!

I continued to push and push. It was seriously one of the best worst feelings I have ever experienced. It was a huge relief and also very, very scary. I didn’t feel like I was making any progress, it hurt like bloody hell, and I felt this insane pressure down there. At one point RJ said they could see her head and they offered to show me in a mirror, but I said no. I wasn’t interested in seeing what was going on at all. I remember being totally focused on ending that horrible pressure. I did reach down twice and feel her head, which was quite remarkable and alien to me. I don’t remember many of the details of pushing, but I do remember the feeling of sheer joy I experienced when she finally slid out. Oh my god, that was like heaven. All the pressure, gone!

When she was born, my husband exclaimed something along the lines of “She’s here!” I looked up at him and he was crying. I kept apologizing to him for not crying because it was too surreal! I had given birth! To a baby! Our baby! Plus I was so relieved it was finally over.

Riley pooped while I was pushing, so when she came out, she was totally covered in meconium (as was the bed and my crotch). They offered to bathe her but I wanted her skin to skin, so they first placed her on a towel on my belly/chest and wiped her down enough so that she wasn’t covered in baby poop. They moved her to my chest and I held her there. They let the cord stop pulsing and RJ cut the cord (RJ actually stopped them to check when they handed him the scissors and the CNM very nicely told him, “It’s totally drained, it did stop pulsing” — but yay for him standing up for what we wanted!). Riley bobbed around on my chest on her own and we “nursed” for the first time. Then it was time for Riley’s first bath because she was still covered in poop. They measured her and weighed her in the room and bathed her in front of us, then they left her under a warming light in the room and told us to rest.

And that’s the story of little Riley’s big bang! It’s all sort of a blur now… Two weeks have totally flown and crept by all at once and it seems like her birth was ages ago.

Hopefully I will be back to blogging semi-regularly. I can’t wait to share my thoughts on breastfeeding, baby blues, our first walk around the neighborhood, and other fun stuff! See you guys soon enough… hopefully.

I’m sorry I have beens MIA. I am so impressed with moms who find time to stick with their normal activities during these early days. I’m just now starting to feel like I have a handle on things. I’m sure as soon as I feel like I have a routine, something will change and I will eat my words.

I will be back soon with the birth story, my take on breast feeding, and Riley’s first week. Until then, I’m off to catch some shut eye! See you all soon.

My labor wasn’t totally “natural.” At 41 weeks and 6 days, I made the decision to be admitted to the hospital for induction. We finally got the okay to head to the hospital around 12:30 pm on Friday, I received my first dose of Cytotec at 2:00 pm (with the intention of intermittent fetal monitoring but I’ll save that little tale for the full birth story), started experiencing painful, regular contractions at 9:00 pm or so after a big dinner, and delivered our sweet little baby without an epidural or pain medications during the wee hours of Saturday morning.

It’s definitely been a big transition. Let me tell you, breastfeeding isn’t for the weak.

I love my little girl more than words already… Can’t wait to share the deets of her delivery in detail when I finally manage to get into a routine.

Love,

Sara, RJ, and Riley

I had my midwife appointment this morning. I am now 3cm dilated and 75% effaced. The midwife did another membrane sweep today. I am hopeful it may do something to encourage labor since I’m more dilated and effaced this time.

I had my second (and last) NST and fluid check today. NST was good. Baby’s heartrate was fine and she was “reactive.” They didn’t even have to buzz her head to wake up her up. My fluid levels were 5.4 (remember, “normal” is 7-23; usually 5 and under means a trip to induction-town), so right on the border of needing an induction. (In fact, if I were a patient of the obstetricians at Shands, I’d probably be hooked up to an IV of Pitocin by now.) I discussed it with the midwives and they said they felt comfortable waiting it out. They want me to increase my fluid intake this evening and take it easy. They did encourage a walk, doing the deed, and eating a good meal.

They actually presented us with three options:

1. Induction, if we were nervous about the fluid levels and wanted to move forward with this.

2. Repeat ultrasound tomorrow after increased fluid intake to see if the levels go up tomorrow for “peace of mind.”

3. Watchful waiting and increased fluids. Since I am now more dilated and effaced (and, you know, 100 weeks pregnant), they feel that maybe my body is preparing for labor and there is a good chance it could start naturally over the next day or two. They said they are very conservative and if they thought there was a real reason for concern, they would refer me out for induction. However, they feel comfortable waiting it out.

I talked about it with the midwife, RJ, and a friend who is a doula (she was supposed to be our doula, but I’m a poor social worker). After a heart to heart with all three of them, I decided to see if I go into labor on my own tonight. If I am not in labor by tomorrow morning, I think I am going to go ahead with an induction. I will be 41 weeks and 6 days into my pregnancy.

I feel good with this decision. At this point, I am ready to meet my baby. I gave it my all and held out for almost 42 weeks. I hope I can still avoid the epidural and it will only take a “whiff” of Pitocin to get the party started.

So that’s the story. Remember, send me labor vibes! More to follow…

I had a lot of cramping after my membrane sweep yesterday as well as some “show” throughout the night and this morning (sorry, trying not to be too descriptive but there really isn’t anything sexy about the end of pregnancy or labor and delivery). I had actually had some show on Saturday and Sunday, but it was gone by Sunday night and didn’t return until the sweep (I’m assuming this correlates with being 1cm dilated on Monday).

At this point, every day creeps by at the pace of a snail. I start off the morning feeling okay. Some mornings, like this morning, I was sad to wake up with no changes, but I can usually brush it off with a walk or a quick mope/cry fest. As the day creeps on, my hope dwindles. By this time at night, I have lost all hope of going into labor and resign myself to waking up in the morning with a big ol’ belly.

Now that I’m approaching 42 weeks (gosh, that’s a little over 3 days from now), I think it’s pretty crazy I made it this far. I know the average first time mom typically delivers at 41 weeks, 1 day. Only a small percentage of babies are born after week 42. So if you think about it, I’m pretty special. Although this wasn’t the kind of special I was aiming for.

I have another BPP/NST scheduled for Thursday at 1:30pm. Apparently they repeat this testing until 42 weeks.

This is horrible (don’t judge me) because I love all of the little babies popping up on my fellow bloggers pages these days (seriously! squee!), but I am so jealous of all of the mommas and their little ones. I’m so ready to experience motherhood. I mean, come on, even Jessica Simpson has popped at this point! I’m pretty sure I’m going to be the only preggo left at this point. She’s going to be in frickin’ junior high before she is born (honestly, it already feels like she might be the size of a junior high kid).

By the way, I was thoroughly confused to read that Jessica Simpson is having a daughter and her name is Maxwell Drew. Am I alone in this feeling?

Okay, it’s time for bed. Cookies have been consumed, we are caught up on the Killing, and I should probably try and sleep a little. You know, just in case.

My midwife group called to re-schedule my appointment from Wednesday to Thursday. Last week the midwife told me to call on Monday if I wanted and they would re-check me and do a membrane sweep if I had started to dilate (I was not dilated or effaced at my last appointment). I wasn’t going to call today because my appointment was originally scheduled for Wednesday. I just didn’t see a point, especially if I hadn’t dilated at all. I was afraid the disappointment would totally destroy me. However, when I found out I’d have to wait until 41+5, I called back immediately and asked to be squeezed in for the check today.

Well, I was 1cm dilated, 25% effaced, and she was able to get her whole finger in there to do the sweep. I’m not getting my hopes up, but it was worth a shot. Definitely a preferable method to drugs like Pitocin. I plan on taking a walk when the sun starts to set a little (it is so hot here!) and cross my fingers that this at least continues to progress things in the right direction.

T-minus 5 days until induction. COME ON, RILEY!

I have a biophysical profile scheduled for this afternoon. Maybe the $1,000 test will motivate her to join us someday soon.

Hopefully everything goes well.

Wish us luck!