Grab Mr. DeMille and show us dem close ups! Ready to share your news? We wanna see, too!
You have been my best friend and loyal companion for years. Without a doubt, YOU have been my first baby. But with your human brother due anytime now, you and I both know things will be changing.
I’m sorry for the steady decline of attention over the last nine months. I’m sorry for sometimes making you wait a little TOO long to go outside. I’m sorry for being impatient with you when I was dealing with hormones and little to no sleep. I’m sorry we can’t cuddle on the couch or bed anymore since they are now off limits. I’m sorry you can’t ride in your usual spot in the car anymore since it’s reserved for the car seat. I’m sorry some days I forget to pet you a little extra and tell you what a good girl you are. I’m sorry we don’t go for walks on the beach anymore because mama is too big and tired.
But more than I am sorry, I’m excited! I’m excited for you to love your human brother the way you love me. I’m excited to watch you two interact. I’m excited that he already has a body guard that will protect him fiercely. I’m excited he gets to grow up with a best friend who will always be happy to see him. I’m excited you will be my built in cleaner for all food and drink spills. I’m excited you will be here with us to share in all of our experiences as a family.
Life wouldn’t be the same without you, pretty girl!
My pregnancy kind of sucked. It started with severe HG, a chronic UTI that won't quit after multiple rounds of antibiotics, and borderline high blood pressure. (I was induced for high blood pressure for my first child.) At 20 weeks, we found out baby has a congenital heart defect which will require open heart surgery within the first year. Cue lots of extra scans and appointments and transferring to the high risk group at the hospital with a high level NICU. Oh, and I had too much amniotic fluid.
I met with my new OB on the 6th, after some scans. Baby was kicking. We talked about how they really want me to go to 39 weeks but not over 40 weeks to give baby the best chance to develop.
The next Monday, the 13th (3 days ago, baby was 28+1), I was worried due to decreased movement. Usually he kicked a lot middle of the night and a bit in the morning, but he hardly kicked at all that night and I didn't feel anything in the two hours in the morning. So I called the high risk ob group's nurse line to ask.
The nurse on the line was awful. She said it's too early to consistently feel kicks, even though I did. She said I should wait until after supper, if I still hadn't felt kicks. When I said that made no sense, she called me "obviously overly anxious" and very begrudgingly booked an NST for me.
I went into the NST at 11:20. Baby's heart rate was ok, but did not have enough variability. They tried to wake him up, but in the end only got a HR decel. So they sent me to L&D to see the ob, who did an ultrasound for a BPP (bio physical profile). She talked about the worst case scenario, which was an emergency c section. I nodded along, as they put an IV in me to get more fluids, in case I was just dehydrated. Then they put in a magnesium drip for baby's brain, just in case.
Then the ob said the baby really wasn't looking well, so they're going to do a c/s. I called my husband to tell him to come in, but told him he had time to shower. But then baby's heart deceled again, so they wheeled me to the OR. I got a spinal, my husband barely made it before baby was born, and then they sewed me shut.
Baby was born barely 3 hours after I checked in for the NST. They put him immediately in an isolate. I got to see him, and then later touch him, but didn't get to hold him until today.
My own recovery actually went quite well. I was discharged from the hospital after just two days. I can't lift anything heavy, but I can walk, albeit slowly, and with Tylenol and ibuprofen. But I can do the things I need to do.
Baby had a harder time. I didn't have time to get steroid shots, so he's in a ventilator to help him breathe. He's also on a bunch of IVs for nutrition and hydration. When he was born, he had very low hematocrit, which was probably why he was in distress, but they haven't figured out why it was so low. They gave him several transfusions in the first couple of days to stabilize him. They're getting a hematologist involved in order to try to figure things out.
There are so many people to talk to: nurse, pediatric cardiologist, neonatologist, physical therapist, social worker, lactation consultant, ob... And I'm sure I'm missing some.
Despite all this, we're lucky in many ways. We live very close to the hospital so it's easy to visit. We don't have to worry about money/work for now. Baby actually made it outside (no thanks to nurse triage on the phone). Baby's heart condition is stable for now, so it's "just" preemie issues. I'm pumping for him and my supply is good. My own recovery has been great. My toddler has been enjoying hanging out with people, and plenty of people have stepped up to help us.
I think in many ways, the birth could've been traumatic. It's certainly unexpected and not what I had in mind. But I also feel mostly ok about it, because I feel like I did everything I could, including listening to my gut about if my baby was ok.
I think that covers most things.
Every. Single. One. Of my friends who got pregnant after me has already delivered. I’m the only one in the home stretch at 39/3 and I’m so done. I’m so incredibly happy for all of them because they’re all healthy babies, but low key, I feel like “eff all y’all!”. I seriously feel like I’m going to be pregnant forever and this baby is never going to come out.
I read every story I could when pregnant. I live by "prepare for the worst, be surprised by the best" type mentality, so I knew (and mentally prepared for) all the things that could go wrong. I had a rough plan but also expected it to go off the rails. Ultimately everything went exactly to plan and the overall experience was quite (surprisingly) positive. This will be long. Also very late as I delivered in March :P
I carried small and low my entire pregnancy. I gained what was expected, ~ 25 lbs though I'm 5'8" so even then it didn't look like that much. Everyone told me I was going to go late. I expected to go late. So when I thought my waters ruptured two days before I was due (a Wednesday) I wasn't sure if I would call in, but I did as I was GBS positive. Got checked out, determined it was just increase discharge and was sent home.
Up until the increased discharge I had no BH contractions, no cramps, no slow downs - I felt normal really. I've weighed more years ago than I did at 9 months, so even the extra size wasn't slowing me down. I felt crampy at this point though but figured the vaginal exam was the culprit. The next day (Thurs) I had a prenatal fitness class. I msged the instructor and told her what happened and that I was crampy. She said as long as I was rested I could come to class but she'd understand if I didn't. I went. I love this class - it's not a "let's relax and stretch" class at all. So when she announced to the class we were going to "squat snarry_shipper's baby out" I was nervous but ready for the workout. Twice during the hour long class I had to stop as the cramps were a little intense but otherwise it went well and I managed to do the entire class.
Once home (class was from 7:30 - 8:30 pm) my husband made me diner and we went to bed. At this point I thought maybe this is labour. I started timing the cramps which were most definitely contractions at 10 pm. Longest gap at this point was 10 minutes. I moved to the guest room as to not disturb my husband and tried to sleep. Overnight I had 2 showers, watched some TV, and timed contractions. They ranged from every 3 mins to every 10 minutes and never really got regular so I wasn't sure this was it as I've heard they can just stop. That whole "you'll know" thing...yah maybe but you'll be in denial haha
Finally Friday morning and I txt my Doula who comes over right away. I'm convinced now it's labour and I'm not having a great time - falling asleep between contractions (which were ~ 5 mins apart) and throwing up. The contractions were triggered by movement so walking/dancing/any method of pain management was out the window. They were also coming in a 2 peak wave which sucked. By noon I was worried I wouldn't be able to go through with my plan for an unmedicated birth as I knew "early labour" wasn't the worst and I was having a hard time. Contractions never really hit the proper 4-1-1 as they were sporadic and doubling up, so lasting 2 mins but sometimes every 3 mins sometimes every 6.
We finally called the midwife, she speaks with me on the phone, and tells me she's an hour out (apparently she was at a birth that morning and just woke up). I was not impressed and told her I wanted to go to the hospital. She asked why and then told me she'd be 45 mins. Still not impressed but whatever. She finally gets there, checks me and I'm 6 cm! All fleeting thoughts of an epidural went out the window as I knew I was almost to the hardest but shortest part. Time to head into the hospital.
The rest went super smoothly and I'm really proud of how I handled it all. I internalize pain, so I pretty much stood with my eyes closed breathing to get through the pain. Tried the gas, was not a fan. I made it through transition without throwing up (one my big fears, the other was pooping which I didn't do!) and pushed for 45 mins. I did most of the pushing standing and squatting when I had to bear down. I asked about delivering standing up but they said that wasn't allowed at the hospital, oh well. My blood pressure was creeping up as well so I had to lie down to get that taken periodically.
At one point I had a lip so was told not to push - that was the hardest part! The midwife tried to move the lip out of the way but needed me to have a contraction in order to do so. She stuck her hand up there and waited....for 15 minutes. It was a nice break from the contractions that were coming right on top of each other haha We all had a good laugh while she had her fingers in my cervix but eventually she gave up and let my body do it's thing :P
24 hours of timeable contractions, 4 hours in the hospital, and 45 minutes of pushing and we got to meet our 8 lbs 10 oz, 54 cm, not so little girl. Remember me saying I carried small? No one expected her to be that big (largest baby in my or my husband's family has not exceeded 8 lbs)! She was wedged down low and ended up with congenital torticollis because of it but it doing well now :)
So yesterday I decided to buy some new bras because my other ones haven't been fitting well at all the last two months. I went to a Motherhood Maternity store that was located in a local mall. When I walked in, I was pleased because the maternity clothes weren't like what I had imagined. They were actually cute.
All three sales women were in the back, it looked like they were rearranging the bra wall. I walked all the way back to them to get help and it took a while before one of them turned from what they were doing to help me. The lady that ended up helping me was very rude.
I told her I was looking for bras with underwire, maybe one without. Prepregnancy I was a 38 DD, but I hadn't truly been sized in about 2 years. I told her I needed to be sized, which she did, and told me I was a 34 H. I didn't really believe that for a second and I kind of said "... but I was a 38 DD before pregnancy". I was shocked. She told me "Things change. We don't carry H's here." Then she started walking away from me.
Then I said, "Well can I try on a 34 G, just to see". She handed me one after searching for a couple minutes. I tried it on and I couldn't even clasp the band!! I put my boobs in the cups and they were WAY too big.
I was pretty upset, so I just walked out and none of them even turned as I left. They were all way to engrossed in what they were doing. It's kind of sad because I liked the clothes and probably would have spent money in there lol.
Anyway, I went and angrily ate a Wetzel's Pretzel to calm down.
Then I went to Victoria Secret downstairs and told them what had just happened. They sized me at a 36 DDD (lol) and had me try on bras to confirm. I was, in fact, a 36 DDD. I ended up buying a bra there because it comfy and the ladies were nice.
Overall, pretty sad about my experience.
Stop Mom Shaming ❤ Saw this today 😊 Wanted to shed some light in case anyone has experiences mom shaming in recent days. It doesn't matter if youre a First Time Mom or a Veteran Mom. It is ALL tough. We all go through this journey and experience different things. Some women have the best and easiest pregnancies and some have hard exhausting ones. Dont let "Mom Shamers" bring you down. YOU are doing a GREAT job. YOU are NOT a failure. YOU are NOT alone. It may feel that way at times, but you have a whole community of support here. YOU are a MOM and that is one of the greatest titles to ever receive.
Scene: Courtroom. We all are moms of young kids and are practicing law. Attorney A to Attorney B (who has an 18 mo old): “Wow you look so tan did you go on vacation?” Attorney B: “yes! Thanks it was great!” Attorney A: “Where did you go?” Attorney B: (long pause). “I don’t remember.”
Okay, so the second trimester is when things start to get weird. Everyone warns you about the nausea, and while I did think that was the worst part, I wasn’t warned about any of this other stuff. Brace yourselves because this is where I started to feel like I was entering some sort of weird cult initiation of moms. I would mention things to other women, and they’d be like, yah, that totally happened to me. HOW IS NONE OF THIS TOLD TO ANY OF US? Also, it bears mentioning that I went to a very large OBGYN office. There were twelve different doctors, this maters later.
Week 13: I’m still woosy, but it has mostly vanished. I was told later by one of the OBGYNs that I saw that if your nausea doesn’t go away by week sixteen or seventeen you are very likely to have it your entire pregnancy. I somehow managed to avoid that, but that is just horrendous. God bless any of you ladies that deal with this for nine months. However, the strangest thing I experienced happened this week. At about this time all your ligaments start to loosen as your body prepares to push out an average sized watermelon in only a few months time. It makes you feel like an out of body rubber band person, which is the closest thing I can do to describe it. You feel disassociated, sore, and very loose all at once. You feel like you’re in some sort of odd alien abduction situation. As you cry on your couch, not understanding what the hell is happening, your well meaning husband will ask if he should take you to the emergency room since you are a writhing ball of pain and tears. When you wetly reply that you don’t know it actually doesn’t help the situation, because then your husband begins to panic. So, just so you know, totally normal, as if this should feel normal. My god, this is your new normal.
Week 14-15: My hormones have really gotten fully out of control. For the first time in my life I feel homicidal rage, for ridiculous things, like my husband smelling like a man for instance. Did I mention you get the superpower of smell at some point? Yeah, it sounds cool until you have it. You do not want to smell everything. No one actually wants this. Oh, you are slightly sweaty? You can smell it, and you smell nasty. You have a sweet dog at home that you like to hug? Yeah, she’s disgusting and now hates you because she gets a bath every three days and she hates water. Also, I developed a very real, very visceral reaction to the sight of baby whales. The very image of them sends shockwaves straight to my heart and melts it, and then it leaks out of my eyes in waves of tears. I literally cannot handle seeing, hearing, or even talking about baby whales. When I tell my husband this he nods in understanding, then pulls up a video of a baby whale on my phone. I burst into tears of delight cooing at the image. He continues to randomly show me images of baby whales for the rest of my pregnancy to see my reaction because he is fascinated by this strange creature that has overtaken his wife, who has until her pregnancy, cried one time in three years. Also, this strange reaction begins to leak over into all whales and whale images. Do you know how many nurseries have a nautical theme? DO YOU? Jesus, creating a registry is a minefield of tears and cooing at cartoon pictures of whales.
Week 16: My hormones begin to get the better of me and my anxiety becomes a real issue. I start to have legitimate panic attacks about things like meeting a colleague for lunch. That’s not normal and I’m generally a really laid back person. What happens next is actually not funny, and I just want to take a moment to say that if you start feeling anxious or depressed you should absolutely talk to your OB about it. It’s a real thing and it really affects you. So when you meet a new OB at your sixteen week appointment (remember there are twelve at the practice I went to) and tell her about it, and she tells you that anxiety, “hardly ever happens and it’s just hormones” you get fucking pissed. She’s lucky my boot didn’t smack her in the face at that point. I told the staff at the front desk as well as the nurse helping me to never schedule me with her again. I also told her, to her face, that I was a psychologist and know what a panic attack is. Let’s just say the appointment ended there. Stand up for yourselves! That shit does not fly, end rant on that.
Week 17-19: FUCKING FOOD. At my twelve week appointment my doctor, the nice one, told me that I needed to gain weight since I lost so much over the first twelve weeks. This is great news, I love to eat, it’s my favorite past time. So much food all the time. I literally cannot stop eating. I eat anything that stays still long enough to shove into my mouth. I begin to eye my dog on occasion, just idly wondering what dog might taste like, you know, in a hypothetical way. I’m not actually going to eat her, but I’m curious. I constantly feel as if I’m starving. I’ve also developed a fondness for orange juice, an obsession really. I drink a full gallon every two to three days. I’m serious about getting it. I jones for it. Before this I think the last time I had juice was about three years ago. I send my husband out for juice at eleven PM at one point. I must have it. It’s so freaking delicious.
Week 20: The twenty week ultrasound has arrived! This is the day they put that cold jelly on your belly, which is now starting to get a bit round, and present to you the tadpole! Now, for the last, I don’t know, ten weeks, my husband and I have been fighting about deciding if we want to find out the gender or not. I want to know, he does not. After some heated debating we come to an accord. I will not find out what we’re having if I get my first choice boy name, assuming it is a boy. I’m fully convinced it’s a male child for some reason and we’ve been arguing about the name for the same ten weeks. He agrees to this, no doubt hedging his hopes on a girl, so we don’t find out what it is. This whole process is totally fascinating. You’re all excited and nervous, because something could be wrong, but you also desperately want to see the little being inhabiting your body like a leech. Then the picture comes up and you see this cute little Skeletor come on the screen. It’s all wiggly and bony, and just so unbelievably adorable. It starts to suck it’s little skeleton thumb at one point, which makes you fall in love. And then while to doctor is looking at it to be sure everything is where it’s supposed to be, it grabs its little umbilical cord, it’s life line, and squeezes the ever loving crap out of it, which promptly knocks the little bugger right out because it’s cut off it’s air supply. It goes disturbingly still, and your doctor chortles and says they all do that. They ALL do that, ladies. They all grab their own oxygen supply and knock themselves out on a regular basis until about twenty-eight weeks when they work out that they probably shouldn’t do that. I’m growing this thing that periodically tries to murder itself. Wow. Anyway, once you come to terms with that the doctor hands you this wand looking thing. Imagine an Apple version of a Harry Potter wand. Guess where that goes? Yup, it goes there so they can measure your placental wall. Super.
Week 21-24: You actually start to feel human again, if normal humans are teary and starved, and for these golden weeks, everything is glorious. You sleep, you eat, you have a surge of lust that you can still act on as your belly isn’t that big. Everything is really great right now, but don’t worry, the third trimester is coming, and it’s gonna knock you right on your ass.
There. I admit it. Obviously it would be way more work than it's worth (not to mention gross) but it's kind of tempting.
I was totally craving buffalo chicken & my boyfriend just loves it. I made a whole Crock Pot full for us & put the leftovers in the fridge. The next day at work I literally thought about this buffalo chicken dip for my whole shift, so I was really looking forward to some when I got home. Once I got off, I raced home, opened the fridge, and the container was GONE... Texted my boyfriend asking him where the rest of the dip was and he said he finished it. I cried. Hysterically. Pregnancy makes you cry over food.
But ugh, if I’m not so done with it all.
I’m really lucky. perfectly healthy at 29 Weeks, regular weight gain, minimal aches and side effects. I feel like I’m not allowed to complain but I just would like my body to myself again and to hold my baby.
Thanks for listening to this tiny and unnecessary rant :)
... even though I'm only 10 weeks. I've been reading all the posts over here (probably obsessively) for the last 6 weeks or so, and I've been so surprised at how many transpeople we have in this little corner of the internet, thinking of course that FTM is Female-to-Male, and I've been in tears multiple times about how they're so common and how I never thought of it before. Only last night did it click that these are First Time Moms.
It's going to be a long 30 weeks hahahaha
Two days before my due date in the late afternoon I started having period-like cramps that I now know were contractions starting up. At 11pm, I passed some brown discharge so I called my doctor. She said it sounded like mucous, and not to worry, but to be ready for things to start happening soon. By 1am, I was passing discharge that was clear and not mucous-like at all, so I texted doctor with this info, then tried to go to sleep. She texted back around 3am (was working night shift) that I should head in to the hospital. Fiancé and I had both had a couple rough nights recently with little sleep, so I wanted to keep resting at home and let him sleep some more. At 7am, doctor called to say she was getting off her shift soon, so we should come quickly if we wanted to see her. So we both showered, checked the packing lists, and took a taxi to the hospital, about a 30-40 min. drive away.
When we arrived around 8:30 my doctor had left but we were taken into the delivery ward for a CTG and cervical check. I was on the CTG machine for maybe an hour, and then checked by a nurse who couldn't find my cervix (haha). By this point they determined I was having contractions regularly enough to admit me to the mothers' floor where I was given a bed in room with other waiting mothers (actually there were 5 beds in my room but only one other roommate). That was around 11am, and we decided my fiancé should go back to work for the day and I'd call him as soon as things started to pick up. I spent the day timing my contractions and reading in bed.
Later on the doctor came to check on me and said to call them in when my contractions were 7 minutes apart for at least 4 in a row. I got to that point relatively quickly, and was taken for another CTG and cervical check. While on the CTG machine, my contractions really started ramping up and getting quite painful. They told me to call my fiancé and that I was going to a delivery room.
I think my doctor had told them to take me to delivery a bit early to ensure we got one of the nicer rooms, with tub and extra bed. I called fiancé and even though the Metro was no longer running for the night, told him to take another taxi to the hospital; he could sleep in the extra bed, and he'd be nearby if anything happened suddenly. He arrived about an hour or so later. By now my contractions were really picking up and Hell Midwife was there to shame me and check my progress.
Hell Midwife didn't speak any English and surely was some sort of sadist. The cervical check she gave me was, I was positive at the time, the most painful part I was going to experience. I screamed and cried while she looked for my missing cervix. After it was over, I bled into the toilet. My contractions were getting really strong, about every 5 minutes, and I was passing clear liquid into the toilet but was told it was not amniotic fluid (I still don't know what that was - it was watery in texture, pinkish, and odourless). Around 4am I asked when my doctor was going to be in for her shift, and when I could get the epidural that we'd talked about me having.
Hell Midwife sent me into a panic when she told me I wouldn't be getting an epidural at all - that they were not given for normal vaginal births, and I didn't need it, because "my pain is not REAL pain" (she said this to my fiancé in Hungarian but I understood loud and clear). I lost it. I was sobbing, texting my doctor telling her to DO SOMETHING, and I felt like I had no control. Hell Midwife wouldn't even try to explain anything to me at this point: she just talked straight to my fiancé in Hungarian, rapidly, and he's a pushover so he didn't know that she was completely awful and going against everything my doc and I had discussed.
After sobbing through another few hours of contractions, my doctor arrived! She told me to shower and that the Hell Midwife was getting off shift and Nice Midwife came on. She also spoke English - hallelujah!
By this point I had been in labour for about 36 hours. My doctor and I discussed the epidural and she was against it because she said it would stall things, but I was insistent - I was terrified of the pain of an unmedicated birth. I also was so exhausted from no sleep, I needed some relief. Finally she agreed that we would break my water, then get the epidural. I was afraid of the water breakage but it wasn't painful at all, just gross feeling. By 7:30am, she told me I was about 4 cm dilated, which was great news to me (I'd been at 0, 1, or "cervix missing" for the last few checks, depending on who you talked to).
The anaesthesiologist arrived around 11am, and by this point I was just hanging on for dear life. I was sleeping for a few minutes between every contraction, which were coming hard and frequently. My anaesthesiologist was amazing. He was really great at explaining everything (in English) and super gentle. The injection "pain" could hardly be called that compared to the contractions, and I had instant relief. I also realized right away that it wasn't taking on my right side. I was afraid of this. The doctors and midwife kept explaining that that was "impossible" (uh, how many stories have I read on here about this exact thing??), and had me roll on my right side. Amazingly some did distribute down my right hip and leg, and I had a couple hours of sweet relief from the contractions. Around this time, my mom also arrived (she'd flown in from the U.S. the day before and we hadn't seen each other yet), and we talked and caught up for awhile.
Two hours later, nothing more had happened, and the epidural had completely worn off on the right and was starting to wear off on my left as well. My doctor started oxytocin to pick things up. As soon as she did, I started feeling the contractions strong, equally on both sides again. The number (I'm not sure what it means in units) of oxytocin we started at around 12-1:00ish was 40. Pay attention to that number.
I was in hell very shortly after starting the oxytocin, begging for a top-up on the epidural. My doctor was getting impatient and tried to tell me no. I was still so scared of an unmedicated birth. My panicking convinced her to let me have one half-dose of the top-up. This time, it barely numbed my left side and did nothing on the right. After that, she said we were going to start turning up the oxytocin.
At about 1:30 or so (I can't remember how the time goes during this part), she told me we were going to try pushing. Baby still had not dropped into the birth canal, but she thought I could push her through. So we began with that number at 40 and over the next 2+ hours, doc ramped up the oxytocin. The last number I saw before the midwife turned the machine around so I couldn't see anymore was 180.
After what I thought was maybe half an hour, but I learned later was close to 3 hours, of pushing, the doctor consulted her superior. They told me the baby was stuck and not turning to move into the birth canal and they were taking me for a c-section. To be honest I was so relieved to hear it just for the fact I wouldn't have to feel contractions anymore. They were absolutely horrific and sometimes non-stop in between two or three.
I was quickly prepped and given a spinal block (I was so glad to have the relief from the pain of contractions), and baby was out in the course of about 20 minutes. Izabel Grace, who made me work for her, was born at 4:25 pm on August 13, 2018 after 48 hours of labour via c-section, 3300g, 50cm.
My anaesthesiologist was by my head the whole time during the operation (no family allowed in the operating room in Hungary), and he was so great, talking to me and distracting me. I got the shakes pretty strong but I was so happy to have the whole ordeal over with and see my healthy baby girl. I was taken to a recovery room, where my worst fear that I'd heard was confirmed: no pain meds given for c-sections in Hungary. As the spinal wore off, I could feel my incision pain 100%. They did put something in my IV bag which I learned later is a low-dose NSAID, like Advil. I am sure it did nothing.
I recovered over 3 days in the hospital and thank gods I brought Ibuprofen and Tylenol from home. I put myself on my own prescribed schedule (800mg of Advil and 1000mg of Tylenol every 8 hours) - that was the only pain relief I had the whole 3 days. The first 24 hours were pretty horrific. Day 2 I already felt 200% better, and today, Day 3, we were released. I still am taking the OTCs (no other prescriptions were offered), and I'm sore, but I'm through the woods and I'm here at home with my little family.
We have had issues with breastfeeding - my milk didn't come in until today, and baby girl is now used to bottles, so when she latches to the breast now (relieved that at least she latches), she doesn't know what to do other than just chomp away. Tomorrow the health visitor comes so hopefully she'll have some pointers.
The saddest part for me was feeling like I never could go through childbirth again. Somewhere in the middle of my c-section I decided Izabel was going to be an only child. I am now absolutely terrified of contractions. Maybe I would be willing to do it again, if it were a planned c-section, with meds. I know how to get through that, and honestly the unmedicated c-section pain was not worse than the 3 hours or so of the worst contractions.
So if you ever wondered what giving birth in Hungary was like, there you have it! The important thing is we're all healthy and together.
If you read that novel above, you have definitely earned this Baby Tax, courtesy of the hospital's professional photography service.
I’m 19 weeks pregnant, due in January, and my husband has orders to move about 8 hours away in December. I work full time and it’s not affordable for me to not work. Since we’ll be moving, I’m missing out on any maternity leave benefits my work may have offered. I’m hoping to get some unemployment as I’m covered due to my husband’s orders. Is there any kind of insurance or anything I can take out to help out? And am I overlooking any major issues with moving on December 1 with a due date of January 7, aside from being moderately to extremely inconvenienced?
Is it normal to not feel emotionally attached to this baby yet at 12 weeks? I get semi excited when I talk about the baby’s future or when I see little baby anything’s but I just don’t feel connected or attached at this point. Will it feel more real once I feel it kick or start to show? And this child was and is wanted I just feel so different from how I anticipated to feel.
I am exhausted. This pregnancy has sucked. I have developed cardiac issues and since around 14 weeks have been running at half capacity. When my heart rate gets above 100 I can’t breathe. I pretty much sit around and do nothing. My daughter (3) doesn’t ask me to play anymore. My husband and mom are exhausted from caring for me and my daughter. I had cancer 2 years ago and I was the same bum. Being a burden on everyone SUCKS! I just want to be able to take my daughter to the museum or the zoo and not feel like death. Things should normalize when I deliver but that’s 2 months from now. I’m so done with my body failing me.
Thanks for listening to the rant.