Showing posts with label labor and delivery. Show all posts
Showing posts with label labor and delivery. Show all posts

28 May, 2013

HOW TO BE A GOOD FRIEND TO A NEW MOM, PT. II

2012-08-31 20.13.47

Well, some more months have passed since my original installment and I am chalk full of new ideas for ways you can care for the new mamas in your life. I got to thinking about this, seeing as so many ladies in my life are pregnant or hoping to be soon!

1. Buy her a Netflix subscription. I'm pretty sure that 93% of Americans have a subscription already, but on the off chance that your friend does not, this would make a really wonderful gift. When you can't do much and you're awake most of the time, you might as well watch a ton of TV. (Wait, what?)

2. Buy her fancy pajamas. A couple of months after Finnegan was born, I bought myself a couple of pairs of pajamas that I felt really good about wearing and being seen in. Prior to this purchase, I was mostly a big t-shirt and underwear kinda girl, but when you're home a lot and want to be comfortable and not feel like a total slob, the fancy pajamas have a way of making you feel more human and less sloppy human pacifier. Keep in mind the needs of a nursing mama when making your purchase. I'm thinking something like this or this or this.

3. Ask to see pictures of her new baby, like, as often as possible. Nothing makes me happier than to scroll through the hundreds of pictures of Finnegan on my phone for any person with a pulse. But I don't ever jump into this unless someone asks (and then they never do again) because it just feels so pushy and self-involved. I usually assume that people don't really care to see the pictures and are just trying to be nice, which actually means a lot.

4. If you live in a different city, pay for a meal and have it delivered. I live across the country from many of my friends and this seems to be an easy way to lighten the load of new parenthood.

27 December, 2012

THE HOSPITAL DOESN'T SUCK.

A few days ago I walked with Finn through our neighborhood, looping up and down the streets.  At dusk, the area was quiet, Finn napped, and I had a lot of uninterrupted time with my thoughts.  I revisited my favorite houses and was surprised by how different the area looked now that winter had taken over.  I thought back to the hours and hours and hours Justin and I had spent walking this area in the heat of summer, timing contractions that never proved to be much help, dreaming about how our life would be completely different in a few short weeks.

One of the things we spent a lot of time discussing, maybe even obsessing over, was what the labor experience would be like.  After years keeping up on women's health care issues, I was convinced that a natural childbirth, maybe even at home, would be the best scenario for baby and me.  With that in mind, I spent weeks trying to sort out what options were covered by my insurance, only to end up with almost no options at all.  This was the first thing that didn't go as planned.  And so we carried on, taking a very intensive class that sparked a lot of discussion about at what point in labor we'd go to the hospital, how we'd undermine the nursing staff to get exactly what we want, what music would be playing at which labor stage, what smells would be present in the room to relax me (no, seriously), what words were and were not allowed in my room (seeeeeeeriously), and so on.

Fast forward to August 1:  my due date.  Justin and I went to a check up with my midwife at the hospital.  I was sad to be at that appointment.  A week prior when I scheduled it, I was sure that I'd already have my baby in arms and it wouldn't be necessary.  We then scheduled my induction for two weeks out just in case, but I was sure it would never come to that.  Not the case.  Days dragged on and on, and after plenty of membrane stripping and walking and resting and water and non stress tests and ultrasounds, my induction date rolled around and I showed up at the hospital bright and early on August 14 (you can read about Finn's birth here).  In summary, I was induced (strike number one against a natural birth), never got around to using the relaxation techniques we learned in class (strike number two), and had an epidural (strike, strike, strike...).  And guess what?

19 December, 2012

ONE YEAR AGO.

August 25, 2012

It was a Monday morning and--per usual--I was running behind, trying to get out the door to my gynecologist appointment before heading into another week at work.  "Good luck with your job interview today!  I love you!" I yelled to a still sleeping Justin as I ran out the door.  It had taken me weeks to get the appointment and I remember entering panic attack mode as I started my car only to realize I needed gas.  And then I couldn't find the address for the office.  I finally found my way to the medical building, opting for the stairs because the elevator took too long.  I ran down the hall as I was late to my appointment, but they still agreed to see me.  "I'm here today because my birth control has been recalled and I'm going to need something new."  So the prescreening process began and we reviewed my medical history.  "You'll need to take a pregnancy test now; it's just standard practice before we move forward."  I peed in a cup, then waited in my exam room for the nurse practitioner to return, checking my email and scrolling through my phone.  I texted Justin:  "They're making me take a pregnancy test... ha." "Ha" indeed.

Rewind a couple of days to the previous Friday.  As Justin took the last philosophy final of his undergrad career, he received a voicemail from Duke Divinity School, letting him know that he had been accepted in the early round of admissions to their program.  His first acceptance.  This was huge!  On the cusp of a lot of life change, we were feeling both excited and anxious for what was to come.  We had months of waiting in our future as we anticipated hearing back from other programs followed by some major life decisions about where we'd end up for the next couple of years.  We celebrated the acceptance by trekking to Julian, a small town in the mountains just outside of San Diego, where we spent the afternoon pulled over off the side of the winding freeway, sledding down the hills on boogie boards in true Southern Californian style.  It was a perfect day.  A weekend of calm before a complete storm of grad-application-waiting-game-chaos.

Fastforward back to the exam room.  Down the hall, make a right, first door on the left.  I remember it well.  After a few minutes of waiting, the nurse practitioner entered the room again, closed the door, and said, "I'm not sure if this is good news or bad news, but the test came back positive."

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"What?"

"You're pregnant."  I sat, stunned, in silence for a few moments.  "You're wrong," I told her.  She went so far as leave the room and double check the test.  Of course she wasn't wrong.  At some point, I went from silence to bursting with all of the reasons why it just couldn't be possible.  "But my husband just got into grad school and we're moving and I have a really good job and I'm too young and I don't believe it and what?"  Although I wasn't crying, she handed me a box of tissues.  I looked at them in my hands.  I suddenly burst into tears, realizing that that is probably what people do right about now.  As I sat, scared and crying, she gave me an estimated due date and talked to me about my options.  I knew that we would keep the baby but I couldn't wrap my mind around what was happening.  In the midst of so much life change, I could barely imagine what my life would be like in a week.  There was no way I could think as far forward as next August and picture myself with a baby of my own.  She offered to do my first ultrasound that day, but I had had enough for one day.  I had to get out of there.  I raced out of the office, through downtown, to the parking garage, with tears streaming down my face.  Every time my body stopped moving, when I waited to cross the street, when I sat down in my car, it was like the news hit me again and again as if it were the first time.

Instead of driving to work, I drove home.  To be perfectly honest, I spent the entire drive crying and screaming in my car, hitting the steering wheel while simultaneously feeling like I should never be in a car again, lest I hurt what was growing inside of me.  It was terrible.  I parked the car and ran upstairs, hiding my face when I passed people in the hall.  I stood outside our front door for what felt like forever.  I could not bring myself to walk through that door and tell Justin the news, to repeat what I had just been told.  Life as I knew it was over, and I was so happy with the life I already had.  I couldn't breathe under the amount of responsibility I already felt heaped on top of me.

Eventually I made my way into our house.  Justin knew immediately, of course, not expecting me home after my appointment and never having received a follow up text from my hilarious one about the pregnancy test.  What now?  How do we live life now?  Our lives changed forever that day.  We were dumbfounded for basically, well, weeks.  For a long time, I was ashamed of how I felt.  It took me a while to get from terrified and sad and angry to sort of curious, and eventually completely, over-the-moon excited.

So why be so honest about all of this?  Because it's real life and finding out about an unplanned pregnancy, even in the context of my marriage and family support, was hard to take and completely insane.  In a moment my life became very much about a little someone else that felt like a stranger, and that was a hard pill to swallow.  But you adjust, you reset your course, you reexamine your priorities.  Life take shifts that completely shake you and from one moment to the next your reality completely changes.  But now I have myself the most beautiful, precious little not-at-all-planned-for baby that ever was.  He has taught me new things about life and selflessness and love since the day I knew he existed.  Oh, I love that boy.  I'm so blessed to have him.  I would not change a thing, and I really mean that.

19 October, 2012

HOW TO BE A GOOD FRIEND TO A NEW MOM.

"HI FRIENDS COME SEE HOW CUTE MY BABY IS!!!! BRING ME THAI ICED TEA!!!!! XOXO, MEGAN"

The weeks following pushing a baby out of your body are kind of insane.  Your body feels weird and sore and you're tired and you can't imagine having to actually live life on top of taking care of this new human.  Here are a few things that you can do to ease the stress of that transition for your friends.

1.  Answering a phone is simply too much to ask of new parents and yes, I am completely serious.  Or if you really want to call and actually be supportive, don't expect anyone to answer and leave a voicemail about how awesome your friend is and that you don't need or expect a call back.  Send a text or an email and expect to get a reply back at 3:46am when mom is up breastfeeding with iPhone in hand.

06 September, 2012

FFC.


Tuesday, August 14th, 2012 I woke up at 6:00am to the sound of my alarm.  Waking up that morning wasn't difficult, but getting out of bed was. I knew that it would be the last time I'd lay there when my world was just Justin and me. After 42 long weeks of anxiety, anticipation, excitement, and fear, today was the day that labor would be induced and I would enter into the mystical realm of motherhood.