Lady Madonna, baby at your breast

From the time I found out I was pregnant, I knew I wanted to breastfeed.  Obviously everyone knows "breast is best" and the health profession is always touting the many benefits of breastfeeding for both moms and babies.  Plus, formula honestly freaks me out.  To think of a child surviving on nothing but powder mixed with water doesn't seem right to me.  I'm not knocking moms who formula feed, but I knew it wasn't the choice for me.

I was surprised at how many women were surprised with my decision to breastfeed.  I heard a lot of not so encouraging feedback. "It's so hard."  "It was too painful, I had to stop."  "My baby just would take to the breast."  These statements were quickly followed with a "But good for you!" and a encouraging but concerned smile.

All this was balanced out by all our doctors, lactation consultants, and birthing class instructors who said breastfeeding is the most natural thing in the world.  All babies come out of the womb with the tools to be successfully breastfed.  Moms who struggle just have latch problems.  They just weren't doing it right.

That seemed a little unfair to me, too.  I seriously doubted it was as easy-breezy as they were making it sound, especially when breastfeeding mothers are always talking about things like having to supplement, using nipple shields, pumping, and keeping a stock of lanolin for cracked and bloody nipples.

Now that I officially joined the club, I can see both sides for myself.  Breastfeeding is tough work.  Not only is your baby learning how to do it, but you are learning, too.  As a mom, I feel so unsure of myself, which probably comes across in my awkwardness when trying to feed my daughter (poor kid).  And, yea, you better believe I'm sore.  It's not just my nipples.  My entire chest is exhausted from being drained constantly day and night.

That was probably the biggest surprise that no one seemed to mention.  Breastfeeding is a HUGE time commitment.  It's literally taken up about 80% of my waking hours for the past week.  Newborns eat about every 2-3 hours and each feeding can take around an hour in and of itself.  If your baby feeds 10-12 times a day...you do the math.  Now you know why moms don't sleep.

There have been plenty of times I've wanted to quit.  At least once a day I think "I can't possibly keep this up any longer."  And there is probably at least one time every night when I've just fed for nearly an hour and my daughter is still not satisfied.  In that moment, when I'm so exhausted mentally and physically, I just want to cry.  It's definitely testing my patience and endurance, two things that are in short supply in my temperament.

At the same time, I've already seen how essential breast milk is to my daughters development.  At her first pediatric visit, she was down 12% from her birthweight due to my milk being delayed in coming in.  I had to supplement and pump for a day.  I cried and cried, thinking my body wasn't built to sustain another human being's life and that it was my fault that my baby was "failing to thrive."  But then everything turned around.  My supply came in and was feeding constantly, playing catch up I imagine.  Just two days after that appointment, she was up 8 oz.  Today, she was back up to her very healthy birthweight of 8 lbs. 6 oz.  She's had zero health related problems.

In the end, I guess you can say I have a love/hate relationship with breastfeeding.  I feel like it's all give-give-give on my end.  I feel like a cow being milked morning, noon, and night.  But I would also give everything for my daughter and this is the greatest gift I could possibly give her right now.

So I sing a song of love for Julia

Julia's Birth Story

Well, I can eat my words.  After posting here last time, I got ready for bed and opened up my book hoping to get some shut eye before the big day.  About 30 minutes later--pop!  My water broke.  All on it's own.  I guess Julia had some other plans and was just faking us out.  I called the doctor and he told us to head in to the hospital.  At that point, I felt pretty good.  The contractions hadn't started so I showered, did my hair and make-up and straightened up the house.

And then the contractions started coming.  But not where they said I'd feel them.  Right in my lower back.  I could barely sit down.  The hour I was in triage waiting for our labor and delivery room I just squirmed on the bed.  This worried me a lot as I knew back labor was a sign of a posterior position (face up).  The triage doctor confirmed my water had broken and I was 3.5 centimeters dilated, so they took us to our room.

Now, when we were going to birth classes and writing our birth plan, I really wanted to get pretty far in my labor before getting any drugs.  I imagined myself using the birthing ball, walking the hallways, even laboring in the bath.  Well friends, plans change.  I asked for the anesthesiologist as soon as we got to our room.  I could not take those contractions in my back.

Ahhhh--epidurals.  What a wonderful thing.  It was instant relief.  Once I had it, I was able to relax.  It was about 2am at that point so Jeff and I decided to sleep.  The next 6 hours I drifted in and out of sleep between getting checked.  I was progressing pretty well with just a foley balloon, so they didn't start pitocin, much to my relief.  I was surprised at how not crazy laboring was.  Probably because I had the epidural.  I kind of felt like I was cheating.  I just laid there and my body did the rest.  And I was totally ok with that.

My doctor came in at 8am and said he thought she'd be there by noon.  My contractions were coming about every 3 minutes and I was about 7 centimeters dilated.  I started mentally preparing myself to meet my daughter.

But, once again, she had other plans.  Not much changed in the next few hours.  My progression stalled out a bit so they decided to start the pitocin.  And even with the epidural, I could tell that stuff wasn't messing around.  Due to some issues with baby's heart rate, I couldn't labor on my left side so the medicine wasn't reaching that side of my body and MAN did I feel those contractions in my back.

Doctor came in again probably around 1:00 and checked how things were going.  I was fully dilated and he thought I should be ready to push soon, though I didn't have any urge to.  Then he said "Hmm" and frowned as he felt the babies head.  My fears were confirmed--she was sunny side up.  He decided to let me wait a little longer before pushing to see if she would turn.  He also said she seemed quite large--like 9 pounds or bigger large.  And that her head was pretty huge.  Not exactly what you want to hear right before you begin pushing.

At 2:00, the doctor came in suddenly, threw the lights on and said "Ok, we're going to start pushing now."  Wait, what?!  Just like that, you just get to decide?  I had essentially been chilling all day and night enjoying my drugs and now you tell me I have to do all this work with no warning?  In the words of Stephanie Tanner: How rude.

He left me, Jeff, and our nurse Sam (who I was absolutely in love with) to begin.  At first, I was thinking "This isn't so bad, I can do this."  Just a few big pushes every couple of minutes.  Those feelings changed pretty quickly after about 30 minutes of this and feeling like I was getting nowhere.  The occasional comments of "Wow, that is going to be a big head" didn't help, either.

Around 3:00, my doctor came back and meant business.  He wanted her out pronto.  I had about 6 people around me coaching me and telling me "Just a little bit harder" "Hold that!"  "There you go, Amanda!"  Plenty of times I heard "Ok, this is going to be the last one!"  It was the last one about 7 times.

Finally, at 3:42pm, out she came.  Our beautiful baby girl Julia Rose weighed 8 lbs. 6 oz, was 21 inches long, and had a full head of dark brown hair.  And they were right about that head--14 inches in circumference.  Ouch.

I couldn't believe she was finally here.  She didn't seem real to me.  I carried her for 9 months, felt every kick, push, and hiccup.  And there she was, gripping my finger with her tiny hand and staring up at me.  It was such a perfect moment.  I wanted to stay in that room forever with her and Jeff and never let it end.

The last 6 days have been pretty chaotic between visitors, doctor's appointments, and of course getting to know each other.  We're all pretty tired.  Right now I'm enjoying some rare quiet time, enjoying a cup of coffee while she sleeps.  I've never felt more unsure of myself in my life.  Even though I tried my hardest, being a mom is not something you can learn from a book.  So I'm letting my daughter show me the way.

And so the adventures begin.  Welcome Julia.  You are so loved.

Two of us...standing solo, in the sun.

In the movies, women always go into labor naturally.  Their water breaks, they start getting crazy contractions, they push and scream and act crazy, and then the baby is there.  You don't ever see the movie about the woman whose due date comes and goes without any signs of going into labor and gets induced instead.  I guess that storyline lacks the necessary drama.

In actuality, it happens to a lot of women and I happen to be one of them.  My body just didn't want to go into labor.  For weeks, I've been crossing my fingers for some hopeful sign that my baby would want to join us on the outside.  But it never came.  So instead of spending my due date in the hospital squeezing the crap out of my husband's hand, I spent it discussing what drugs they were going to give me on January 23rd to essentially force my little girl to come out.

I can't say I wasn't disappointed when I heard the news.  Inductions can be scary.  But they have their advantages, especially for control freaks like myself.  Suddenly, I got to plan my own birth experience.  And there is nothing I love more than planning.  I was able to maximize my maternity leave, stock my fridge and clean my house, and made sure everything I could possibly need during and after the birth was at my disposal.  I even had time to bake some cookies for our nursing staff (suck up, whatever) and do my nails.

But the best part of knowing exactly when I would go into labor (between 3am and 7 am tomorrow morning for the record) was planning the day BEFORE my induction.  Jeff doesn't have clinicals on Tuesdays which meant we could spend these last 24 hours before our girl came with each other.  I can't remember the last time I had such a great day with my husband.  To be honest, most of it revolved around food, but that's what we do.  We started the day with strawberry hotcakes from Pamela's, went to the longest last OB appointment ever, visited my boss in the hospital (who just had twins yesterday), had lunch at our favorite Thai restaurant (and a couple glasses of wine...don't mind if I do) and then saw Silver Linings Playbook (highly recommended).  Now we're listening to records and relaxing before attempting to fall asleep somewhat early so we're well rested for the hurricane of activity that tomorrow (and forever after) has in store.

Today was such a gift.  Part of me feels like I should be more jittery or excited for tomorrow, but I feel pretty at peace with it (that will happen when you have 9 months to hash something over in your head).  I am excited for tomorrow.  But I was equally excited to have this day with Jeff.  After being together for nearly 7 years, there is still nothing that brings me more happiness and peace of mind than shutting out the rest of the world and spending a day together.

Tomorrow, we'll be three.  It will never be just the two of us again, which I'm still having trouble wrapping my head around.  We'll be parents.  Forever.  For now, I'll enjoy these last few quiet hours with my best friend and partner.

Just the two of us.

Where I belong I'm right where I belong.

Today is my first day of maternity leave.  I woke up around 8:30 and thought "What am I supposed to do?"  See, I have a little problem taking it easy.  It's just not my style.  I'm used to goinggoinggoing all.the.time.  So the prospect of having to focus on just one thing for the next 12 weeks  seems...odd.  I know that "thing" is going to be a living, breathing baby who will rely on me for everything, but I still anticipate needing some distractions from being a full time mommy.  Writing has always been my chosen method of clearing the mind.  Hopefully this blog will help keep me sane while I figure out this next step in my life.

The last couple of years have been, for lack of a better word, freaking crazy.  I married my husband Jeff in October 2009.  We spent one blissful year just working and enjoying each other's company.  We lived in our tiny one bedroom apartment in Pittsburgh, hung out with our friends, and basically didn't have much to do other than kick back and enjoy life.

That didn't last long.

Jeff decided to return to school in 2010.  He always wanted to go into Physical Therapy but somehow ended up in higher education financial aid.  I was so proud of him when he made the choice to take some action and totally change his career path.  He enrolled in a Physical Therapy Assistance position in the fall of 2010, going to school part-time and working part-time.

Jeff's decision made me start thinking.  I was getting too comfortable with my life.  In college, I did about a million things and while it was exhausting, I always felt fulfilled because I did things I loved.  While my life since graduating in 2006 was pretty comfortable, I felt like I was going nowhere.  I needed to change that.

I started by joining a weight loss program offered through the university I work for.  I lost 30 pounds and gained control over my life.  I didn't realize how much my lack of confidence due to body image was holding me back.  I felt powerful--like I could do anything I set my mind to.  So I turned my mind to my career.

I've been working for the same non-profit organization since I was 19.  I love my job.  I realize I'm extremely blessed to be able to say that.  My job inspires and empowers me.  But I was just going through the motions.  I wanted to push myself forward.  So I decided to go back to school, too.  I enrolled in a graduate program for public administration in January 2012.

And then life got really nuts.

With both Jeff and I in school and working, we barely saw each other.  We were going full speed all last spring.  On top of that, we decided to move from our miniature apartment to something a little spacier in a quieter part of town.  We made it through that spring semester and started packing up our things when I realized I had "missed" something quite important to any young lady in April.

I was pregnant.

Our lives were turned on the head immediately.  This was not in our plan!  We were going to graduate, buy a house, and THEN we would have kids.  This was all backwards!  We just moved into a 2 bedroom apartment, we were both very much still in school, and Jeff was planning on completely quitting his job to go to school full-time in order to graduate in May.  I had just started school.  This was just all wrong.

But after a lot of freaking out and "what the hell are we going to do!?!" moments, we decided--we'll just do it all.  Jeff will go to school full-time.  I will work full-time and take my graduate classes at night. And we will become a family of three.

I can't even begin to describe how challenging the past 9 months have been.  We are tested on a daily basis.  But thankfully, Jeff and I have an extremely solid marriage and we've supported each other through each step.  I'm not sure I would have made it without him.  We also are surrounded by supported and loving friends and families.  We are truly blessed.

And about to be blessed even more.  I'm scheduled to be induced in the wee hours of the morning on Wednesday.  Maybe that's why I'm feeling so reflective right now and encouraged to write this down.  What I'm feeling at this very moment is pretty surreal.  I have 48 hours left of life as I know it.

And then it will all change.

I'm feeling excited, impatient, and anxious to meet my daughter.  And I'm obviously feeling very nervous.  Not just about being a mom, but about me, too.  Who am I going to be after Wednesday?  This child will completely redefine me.  Again.

I wanted my life to challenge me.

I got my wish.

Bring it on.