Postpartum

Here is the second man of my dreams. I just discovered these newborn shots from the hospital, I'm so glad we have more than I thought!


The classic cross eyes.
Pre-sneeze, I love this look!
Giving the girls their doll diaper bags I made.
I was going in and out of extreme sweating and freezing shakes, I stole Josh's sweatshirt which happens to hide my post-tummy nicely and is yet so stylish.

I can't get enough of his newborn outfit! One of my friends gave him those gator socks and I bought the raccoon outfit years ago but could never part with it as a gift like I'd intended.

This was us hanging out waiting for the birth certificate lady so we could sign his real name (I had just posted the "Gaylord" bit:).

Proud daddy.
I love this, he already loves me!

Happy little family.

Right after having Rhett I was in a mix of emotions, which is no surprise since my hormones were out of whack, but more because of my disappointment with his birth. On the one hand, I was in awe of this little wonder that had joined our lives. I'd been so nervous about having a boy and after all that we'd been through together I felt like he was my new best friend, my perfect little gift fresh from heaven. I have complete joy when I see his new born pictures I just put on this post, I remember the overwhelming positive feelings I had for him during those first few days. I couldn't believe how much I loved him and how normal it was to love a little boy and yes, to nurse him, which I thought would just be so weird. I told Josh it's the most normal it's ever been actually. It's probably due to the fact that it's my third, so I've had some time to get over the weird factor and it's the easiest I've had with nursing as well, so that can't hurt with earing my favor.

On the other, giving birth is one of those experiences that are pretty huge in this lifetime. It's something I don't plan on going through a whole lot (relatively anyway), so each time is precious. Of course it is by the very nature of it, I mean I'm bring another life into the world. But since it's not going to happen all that often, I had hoped it would feel euphoric and miraculous and instead the whole experience had been full of anything but that.

As I arrived home from the hospital I was greeted with all of the hilariously simple responses about Gaylord/Rhett's name that I had some excellent laughs. The next day I laughed harder than ever reading everyone's stories about their thoughts on the name after they knew it was, fortunately, not Rhett's destiny. Thank you for the entertainment! It was a highlight in the midst of major disappointment.

After settling in at home, I thought I was prepared for what was to come. I pulled out my loads of hemorrhoids stuff, nursing aids, pads and thought I could handle life pretty well. But I wasn't prepared for my feelings. A darkness hit me and I wasn't sure what to do. I knew it was because of my disappointment with the birth, I just didn't know how to process it, I couldn't get it back and I couldn't change it, so I was left unsure of what to do.

Oh my gosh, I loved this session. I had taken a nap with Rhett and then City came to join us, it was so sweet.

Her kiss was spontaneous. She kissed City in a picture when City was a newborn too, Hazel is just naturally affectionate. Well, they both are, Hazel is more tenderly affectionate and Felicity is more aggressively loving.

I had time to reflect on the birth experience and the intensity of my feelings of frustration and failed expectations turned to a weight settling over me. My feelings slowly started slipping away and while I still felt them, I just generally started feeling detached from life. I still had a major thing for Rhett, like I think I mentioned earlier, he was my solace, he'd been there going through his own difficult journey on his way into the world and we bonded after we were both done. I felt so connected with him, but not much with anyone else.

I've had some ask why I was so sad after it, and the best way I can describe the disappointment is this: imagine you trained for months and months for a marathon, one that you couldn't do again because it was a special lottery of sorts. You read books about training, you got up before the sun to run 18 miles, you'd push yourself till you threw up some days, you paid attention to your diet and nutrition like your you'd be graded for it and you rarely if ever took a break, always training, always on your mind for the big day.

And then the marathon day arrives, you're totally prepared for an agonizing yet hugely rewarding experience and you get to the starting line and someone runs over to you, grabs you and puts you in their official car and says sorry, something was wrong with your registration, you can't run this, but we can drive you to the finish line and you can still get your medal. And then they drive you quickly to the end where they give you your medal and send you on your way. Oh, and maybe they beat you along the way to make sure you still feel the pain of the race :). That's what this all felt like, a robbed experience I trained for and was excited for that would be a treasure in my box of memories.

The staff had large areas of growth in the whole bedside manner bit to work on for one. I didn't like how they treated me, they were condescending, frustrated when I'd ask questions, pushing for extreme preventative measures (I think c-sections are extreme since they're major surgery--and they totally have their place, but I don't think it should be commonplace), not being consistent with their concerns or each other, and not listening to me. It seemed like Kaiser was using me to be part of their teaching program for their residents, letting them experiment on me as a way to grow without guiding them a little more. I know that's how people learn the best, but I think they should have had someone helping out more, esp since my resident was a first year and I was a "risky" patient.

Anyway, I thought sleep would help, when doesn't it? But if it did, it was only marginally. When I slept in all morning, even if it was all broken up with feedings and even if I still wasn't getting enough, I felt like such a slob being in my pjs and robe all day. I knew I needed the sleep, but I knew I needed to get out of the house too. I was embarrassed with my feelings so I tried to deal quietly, but when they started getting worse, I finally talked to Josh about my feelings. Finally? Well, it was five days, but time creeps when you feel depressed.

I also felt guilty for not being able to take care of my girls, I worried about them feeling neglected by me. I wasn't sure how to articulate all these feelings though, so I was still stuck feeling like I was sinking into a quiet misery alone with my baby as my comfort. He was my solace, I felt like he had been through everything with me and he was my treasure I pulled from all of my disappointment. I didn't want to let him go, I slept with him tucked beside me the first 8 days both day and night.

My mom was here and helping tremendously with everything from cleaning to cooking to childcare, etc. and Josh was busy with work too, so I just thought I'd try to sort things out alone again because I felt stupid talking about it. Unfortunately, it was getting worse and I was nervous about post postpartum depression kicking in (and not just the shorter term "baby blues"), so I planned a trip to the beach to get out where we wouldn't be nervous about germs.

Rhett was born on a Friday and then we went to the beach on Thursday. It felt good to get out, it was beautiful and peaceful. I felt better being there and I was happy to spend time with my family and to be with my girls. It's so hard to be physically not that mobile though, I hate feeling like I can't run around and play and interact, instead walking carefully to not mess things up in the nether regions.

Their beach finds, seaweed and shells.

We didn't think enough to bring shovels or sand stuff, so we found a board that Josh used to make a "thing."

Pretty sweet spot to nurse, too bad there wasn't a back on the log to lean against, otherwise, nice! Oh, and it looks like I'm being a bit hyper with the cover up here, but it's a bit involved for me to get used to nursing a newborn, so this is safer for everyone.

One afternoon shortly after, I was sitting outside in our backyard holding Rhett in the glorious sunshine with a bright blue sky overhead with my girls in front of me on the swings. I should have been in a state of bliss, but I didn't, it was a bit like I was sitting outside of my body watching myself sitting there but not able to feel what the person was feeling who was sitting there. Just feelingless. It was so awful, and it had only been going on a week. I've had periods of being depressed in my life, but this came on so suddenly and unexpectedly, it was jarring. I thought of all the people I knew who suffered with long-term depression and I agonized for them during that period. How could they live like this? I felt like I was breathing and eating, but not really living.

When I took Rhett in during the first week for a drs appointment, they had me fill out a routine form checking how I took care of him and other questions. A couple were about if I had felt feelings of sadness or negative feelings about life or something like that. I was reluctant to check yes even though it totally fit the bill, but I checked it anyway because I figured I should just have it out there and the pediatrician can be aware of it. The assistant looked over the questionaire and filled in my answers on the computer and then my dr came in. She never mentioned it, so neither did I. I wasn't exactly looking forward to outing my problems with her, so I was relieved on the one side, but disappointed they'd overlook that on the other.

I talked to Josh about it again and among the many things I love about Josh, one is that he's a worker. And it doesn't matter what it's at either, he's good at working and in this case, it was trying to understand me--which was a bit of a large feat I admit, I barely understood myself. After talking to him though, I felt a weight was being lifted and he was sharing my burden of the disappointing birth.

I found that it was also highly theraputic to talk to friends about my experience. I kept it in at first because I felt like a baby, but then I realized my feelings were still real and my friends were real and they wouldn't judge me for them, and they, you, haven't. So I shared and I gained so much support, even if it was just a listening ear. And seriously, I felt better and better just from sharing my feelings. That shouldn't have surprised me, that's always how it goes for me, but this was different than just my day to day feelings, so it was a huge relief, and almost as quickly as the dark clouds had come in, they were swept away.

It happened so quickly it was hard to believe it was really there. I felt like myself and felt happy again. It was such a huge relief, I loved smiling and feeling happy while I smiled. I loved that I felt honest with myself again because I'd felt so fake and not myself keeping my true feelings silent. Just after I started feeling great again my mom babysat our girls for us so we could go for a night out and we were so happy as we walked around Carmel and watched the sunset go down over the ocean. I felt completely renewed and refreshed by the talented, artistic people who had created that town and aware of God's love for us as we stood and watched the ocean waves crash on the shore with the spectacular sunset.

As I reflect on this experience, my heart goes out to all those who live with darkness as a way of life. I prayed constantly, I read my scriptures, I sang hymns to my baby, but I didn't feel any sense of comfort, and I've heard that's often how it is for people who live with depression, it's just hard to feel much of anything but gravity pushing the air out of you. Thankfully my experience was more of an episode, but it was enough to give me a renewed sympathy for those whose brains have literally chemically adjusted so they can't just snap out of it with some good heart to hearts. Thank you to all of you who have listened to me, ranted with me, and been my friend. I'm a cornball, but yeah, friends matter!

And here's to a happy life of a new busy-ness to begin!

I LOVED this scene. It was a group of guys drooling over a fancy car, Josh knows what it is, not me, but some European car. They were asking the owner qs. We happened to be in town the weekend of a big golf tournament with lots of celebs, which meant lots of people with money roaming around.
I loved the cute little shops!
It looks like it's straight out of a children's book. We bought some candy for the girls here, adorable isn't it?
We walked down to the beach and my goodness, what a heavenly site. Not just the sunset, but all the people congregating for the grand finale of the day. I loved that so many people were there just to enjoy one of nature's gifts to us.