First of all, I can’t begin to keep up with all of the comments, emails, messages, calls and everything else that has come our way since Abigail was born. I wish I could – I’m awful at such things to begin with, and some folks, near and dear, stranger alike, have shared some amazingly kind, personal, poignant things with me/us. I don’t want this to serve as a response to all of those things, but for now, please know that there isn’t a single person who has reached out to us who hasn’t made us feel even more loved and supported than we could have ever dreamed.
Thank you so, so much.
I have had an awful 48 hours. Let me just put that out there now. It has been miserable. Remember the part where I don’t cry? Yeah, pregnancy hormones combined with some awful, misguided advice derailed that for me. My entire body is racked with pain from not only the surgery site itself, but also the adorable accoutrement that comes with a c-section, including constipation, swollen everything, bleeding and such. I’m huge and lumpy in a manner that, while blah blah blah worthwhile, leaves me a little aghast and sad. My legs and feet have fused into one long trunk, and if I have kneecaps still, you really wouldn’t know it to see me.
This is all a temporary condition, of course, but then there is the pain coming from my breasts from days of breastfeeding, and then not, which led to a series of events that I’ll cover soon in a different post, because if I continue to dwell on it I will never recover enough to do what needs to be done for Abigail.
For what seemed like forever last night, I sat on our couch, cold wash clothes held up against my breasts, and just wailed alongside my daughter, who wailed equally as hard in her father’s arms, as he attempted to calm us both.
Lastly, and I hope this doesn’t become my entire identity from here on out, as I have caught myself mentioning it a lot, but it has been unmercifully hard to get my brain around the 30 hours I spent in unmedicated labor before needing to get an epidural, pitocin administrated and then eventually a cesarean. No, I don’t feel like a failure, and I have no regrets. But it was long and painful and arduous, and in the end, I’m still reeling from that experience in a way I’m not ready just yet to articulate. And it’s not the part where I ended up having a c-section. It’s the part where pain never seemed to end.
Suffice it to say, my body has been through a lot, and for as much as I’d like to just end the store there and say, “In the end all of that matters is that Abigail is here and she’s safe and sound,” it is not all that matters in the end for us. It is, obviously, the most important thing to us, but it is not the sum total of the past week.
I have more to say.
But for now? Oh despite last night and some of the goings on, we are so joyous and happy. We are so proud and in love with this little person. I spend my mornings and parts of my day with her on my chest and my world collapses inside of itself from the emotion of it all. I can’t believe this is my daughter. How lucky did we get?
(If you’d like to read Scott’s account of the labor and his perspective stop on over to his blog and read his latest post.)
Many congratulations on a beautiful daughter, and a gentle hug from me to you. Birthing even under the best of circumstances is a hard, hard task – rewarding, but hard. I hope that when you look back on this experience, you will be gentle with yourself. <3
Love you. Xoxo
Abigail is just beautiful and I want to give you a big hug! It gets easier and you’ll feel better much sooner than you think! Congratulations to you, Scott and Abigail! One lucky, wonderful family!
You’ve heard it already, I’m sure, and Scott says it in his post: Trust your instincts and you are doing the right thing. Also, the one good piece of advice I got late was that up until 6 weeks is really hard, then it seems to start falling in place rapidly after that. Every mom I’ve talked to has concurred although why none of them thought to tell me that before my son hit 6 weeks, I’ll never know. Take care of you.
Erin,
Our birth story was exactly the same, only mine ended with a 13-day stay in the hospital because of infections (mine). Really disappointing that the story didn’t go the way we wanted, but our son Danny is fine, turns out his head was just so huge it couldn’t get out! So, I’m thinking of you, your husband, and that cute little pink girl (I love her wrinkly fingers!) and know how you’re feeling — it’ll get better.
You’re right that what is most important is that you are both physically healthy, but please don’t discount your emotional health. Allow yourself permission to grieve for the birth experience that you did not get to have.
When you are feeling up to it, consider contacting ICAN (international cesarean awareness network). It is a safe place to process your birth experience where no one will tell you that all that matters is a healthy baby – they understand that while that is the most important thing, it is not the only important thing. http://ican-online.org/chapter/search and you can find a local group close to you. Our local chapter here has meetings once a month.
*hugs* to you, Mama.
Erin, kinda feel like I’m a creepy stalker, but feel compelled to write after following your pregnancy. First, after my scheduled (because of a breech twin) c-section- I’ve been in awe of women who labor before that. The day my twins were born was traumatic for reasons I won’t go into here – and that took a long time for me to process. It was months before I could talk about it without crying. It’s a whole lot to deal with, mentally and physically, especially when you are giving yourself over physically/mentally to a little one. Talking with friends helped. And time helped- a lot. I still struggle sometimes thinking that what should’ve been the happiest day of my life pretty much sucked. And nursing and healing are two really hard things to do concurrently. I hope your breasts are okay- don’t know what the issue was, but being a clogged duct getter, once with mastitis- oh, I feel for you. Take care of yourself. So happy the peaceful moments with Abigail are there, they are lovely. And seeing her personality develop is going to be great. I look forward to reading more. And the swelling will go down!
We love you so…. And are sending you every bit of strength and support possible. Anything you need, day or night; call. We are there. Xoxoxo
Wish I could be there to help any way I could. Sending you love.
Mazel tov to you Erin, Scott and Abigail! I agree with your friend Kellie that the first 6 weeks can be very tough so hang in there and do “whatever works!” Don’t be too hard on yourself and congratulations!
I think my favorite line here was “blah blah blah worthwhile.” Yes, our children are so definitely worth it, but man oh man…laboring is hard. c-sections are hard (and the aftermath even more so). Trying to breastfeed is hard. Being a parent of a brand-new baby? Hard. Kudos to you. Keep it up.
Hi,
Start to think of the days as hours – and trying to get through – honestly – don’t think ahead…and just know that that pain during birthing is the worst you will ever experience and that is why no one talks about it. When I had my second child Peter without drugs or medication I remember thinking I should talk at the high schools on “birthing” and that would cut pregnancy rates because it was so painful and I could be so detailed and graphic. I also remember thinking “why do people keep doing this? why has the universe continued to grow?” I couldn’t imagine why people kept having children as it was so painful. I really questioned society and population trends. So, hang in there…I don’t know whether to be too honest but the real moments – the ones people say make it worth it – don’t come for a long time…this parenting thing is a lot of giving….and the getting takes years…but I suppose I could be flippant and say “You are now a member of a club” – the one where people have had children… I don’t really know how to console you or just make it feel better just for a moment – just hang on – and have someone smart in your life watch out for post partum – its real and it exists. The picture of Abigail is beautiful btw – all babies are – but yours seems enlightened…know that I am just a reader that loves your writing and talent and wish you all the very best.
1) Get through the first two weeks. Then get to six weeks. Then it gets easier.
2) Be gentle to yourself. My birth experience was fine, but two weeks later, breastfeeding failed on me and it was devastating. It took me months to process it (and I think I’m still processing it.) This stuff is hard. You’re the least apologetic writer I can think of, so surely you know this, but just in case: you don’t have to apologize for anything about how you feel about your birth experience or your adjustment to motherhood. This is a huge transition, even without 30 hours(!!!!) of unmedicated labor, and the concomitant impact on your body. Hang in there.
So much love and congratulations to you.
“for as much as I’d like to just end the store there and say, “In the end all of that matters is that Abigail is here and she’s safe and sound,” it is not all that matters in the end for us. It is, obviously, the most important thing to us, but it is not the sum total of the past week.”
Your second post after Abigail’s birth and already you’re helping me heal, too. I know EXACTLY what you mean by this. Well said. And thank you. Also thanks to the commenter who mentioned I-CAN. I plan to find my own local chapter soon.
I am totally in awe of you. 30 hours of unmedicated labor!!!! You are unbelievable and so are your husband and daughter. Thank God everyone is okay. Be good to your breasts; breastfeeding hurts like hell at first. Blessings on your family.
I am in tears for you reading this. There is so much involved emotionally in childbirth. I’m sorry it was so hard. You and Scott will always do what you feel is best for Abigail and for you both. She was so lucky to be born to you.
Adjustment will take time.
There is a lot of crying…from everyone
Love you guys!
I wish I could show up on your doorstep and lend a hand, give support, remind you how awesome you are! Only a Super-MOM! manages 30 hours of labor, pit, epidural, AND c-section with such strength. You’ve packed the equivalent of three separate L&Ds into one big event! That little girl is making it clear already that status quo is NOT her style.
Hang in there, Erin. Give yourself time to recover, to get your new groove on.
Erin, I don’t have kids, but if there’s one thing I have learned from my many wonderful friends who do, it’s that it’s a huge relief but a huge challenge getting out from under the obligation to feel, or say, that birth and infancy and breastfeeding and parenting are all magical and transcendent from the first day you find out you’re pregnant. I have had this discussion with COUNTLESS people, as I’m sure you have. I think sometimes about what we do to parents — how we put a 500-pound rock on their chests made up of everybody else’s expectations about how glorious and joyful everything is supposed to be, and how having a child is supposed to recalibrate their brains so that they have no needs at all, or if they do, they are suddenly and effortlessly able to ignore them.
This is such a bittersweet story, but the sweet — for me — is not only that you have your girl, but that you’re both willing to talk in public about how hard and how painful this experience was and still is. Among other things, it was a great reminder to me not to allow the way I bubble over with happiness about other people’s kids to turn into that kind of selfish expectation that they reflect that back all the time. And I guarantee you that a lot of new moms and dads will read these entries over the coming weeks/months/years and feel a little bit of that weight lifted off of them. As everybody else has said, treat yourself kindly and be well.
Hang in there, from what I know (which is probably little), once you start to feel better you really start to feel a lot better.
I’m not sure how far your unmedicated stuff goes, but if you are willing take your pain pills and take them often. My mom, the nurse, says that you heal when you can move around more and you move around more when you feel good which is what the pain pills do.
Labor is a painful process whether you go medicated or unmedicated. C-section or vaginal. I really think that our particular body shapes have a lot to do with how we handle labor too.
Enough with the assvice.
Hope you are feeling better soon.
To quote a friend of mine, “the first month is hell.” It’s really hard, bottom-line, when you bring a newborn home. What worked for me was taking it day by day – sometimes moment by moment. Savoring the small victories when you have them. Good luck, hang in there!
Oh man – you’re bringing back some memories of those early days with my son. I can’t remember how old he was, but it was very early on and I had a clogged milk duct (lovely, I know) that hurt so freaking much. I was exhausted, sleep deprived, sore and had been struggling with breast feeding already. I just remember feeling feverish, hormonal and completely overwhelmed and totally losing it while the baby slept (thankfully). I sobbed while my husband rubbed my back and I exclaimed “I HATE breast feeding!” then felt enormous guilt about it as I lay there shivering. Ugh. Good times.
Those first few weeks are ROUGH. Your body has just been put through the wringer and it only continues with no break so make sure you are kind to yourself. Of course it gets better, as I’m sure your realize, but it can be hard to remember that when you’re stranded in the middle of sucktown. Here’s to surviving the first 6 weeks!
In October, my sister had her first baby and her labor was very similar to yours – labored at home, finally went to the hospital, the baby’s head wasn’t connected with the cervix so labor didn’t progress despite pitocin and an epidural. After 36 hours in the hospital their beautiful daughter (and my gorgeous niece!) arrived via c-section. I was with her and her husband at the hospital and I cannot imagine anything harder than childbirth – with medication or without – except possibly, the first few weeks of having a newborn baby at home and being unable to lift or turn because you’ve just had abdominal surgery! I don’t know how my sister did it as it looked harder than hell but as everyone says, take it one day, one hour, one feeding at a time and it all is so much better after the first two weeks. And after the first six weeks – when you see their first real smile – even better!
Take care of yourselves – and know you will get through it.
Oh sister, I feel you.
Nobody tells you that the combo of Pitocin and the huge amounts of fluids they pump into you during an epidural bloat you up like a ballon. I brought my “skinny pregnancy jeans” to the hospital to wear home, and I COULD NOT FIT INTO THEM. I was more bloated and puffed up than I’ve ever been in my life, including the entire pregnancy, and my feet wouldn’t go in my shoes. I was not prepared. Within a week it will go down.
I also spent a good part of those first three weeks literally biting down on a washcloth, screaming as quietly as I could, and sobbing while breastfeeding, it hurt so, so, so very bad. It’s amazing how quickly we forget it afterwards, because it does get much, much better. But yeah, it is brutal, was brutal, and I didn’t even have the incision to deal with, so more power to you for surviving all of this. I know you’re strong and will get through it just fine!
Congrats beautiful lady! I loved reading your accounts, so proud of you guys. Mwah!
You guys are amazing. So, so happy for you and can’t wait to follow your adventure here. As many, many have said, Abigail is one lucky girl!
My favorite piece of parenting advice: “this too shall pass.” It will, and soon. I also had a C-section (although unlike you I actually did not have a vision or plan for my birth — so emotionally it was not as hard for me) and remember the swollen legs and feet all too well. I called them my “Fred Flinstone” feet — they looked like two cement blocks. As we left for our first ped visit, I suddenly realized I didn’t have a single pair of shoes that would fit and would have to wear Birkenstocks unbuckled, with socks — and then shuffle all the way there because we live in a city, no car. Drink water, walk, sleep, let people help you. You will recover quickly. This will pass.
And, as a very good friend told me, “The first three months with a newborn are brutal.” I say this not to make you feel worse, but to make you feel better! I felt like I was supposed to be happy! and joyful! and grateful! And I was, but it’s also f’ing hard, and when she said that, it was like a great big release from all that pressure.
Everyday gets better. Your doing amazingly. Everyday gets better.
I want to kiss her gorgeous little hands. More pictures! Keep the adorableness coming. You are very brave, and I’m awfully proud of you for going through all that so strongly. Love love love.
Having a baby is hard–before, during, and after. I am an Ob and participated
in many beautiful, natural births. Like you I prepared, hired a doula, and
planned an unmedicated natural birth. Instead, also like you, I labored, pushed,
and ended up with a cesaerean. The grief was intense. Post-partum was another
challenge. Take it an hour at time and know that eventually it does get better.
You can do it.
Late to the party, but congratulations on your daughter! I had 36 hours of labor (about half medicated) in the same hospital, with the same midwife group, and ended up with a C as well. Take it day by day, because it does get better and better. It does. You think sometimes it can’t get better (and sometimes you think it can’t get worse), but it does.
My son is 8 months old and I still feel like I’m recovering from his birth. Physically, emotionally, and mentally the experience is just so acute, especially the point that you’re at. Just keep on going and know that we’ve all been there.
She is just *glorious*. Congratulations to you and Scott! You are being very brave owning up to the less-rapturous aspects of new motherhood and that is a gift to all your readers. I’m 6 months out (6 months already??) from my unwanted c-section and baby’s subsequent Journey to the Center of NICU, and I *still* feel like I’m recovering from the experience. And I think that’s okay – it’s life-changing, after all. Shouldn’t it be something to be processed over time?
Be gentle with yourself. Those early weeks are hard, hard, hard, and take all the rest/help/support/love you can get. You’ve earned it!
Just catching up & sending you big love.