Childbirth education
While pregnant with Trey, I read all the time. Pregnancy, labor and delivery, nursing, caring for the baby, you name it. Every book and website I could find. Took all the classes. Motherhood was my sure calling from God, and buddy, I was going to be prepared. And by the book, I was. Could have aced any written test.
The problem is, there is no education for childbirth except childbirth itself.
In my mind, even to this day, I failed the road test.
Don't get me wrong, I know Trey is fine now, normal (maybe), spoiled, healthy, happy. But if I could go back and redo the first three months of his life, knowing what I know now, I would do it in a heartbeat.
I went through postpartum depression after Trey's birth, and I don't know whether the situation being so different from what I expected caused the depression, or if the depression just came and made everything worse than it already was.
I look back fondly on my labor with Trey. This may sound funny, but other than the pain, the memories are good ones. The prep work had been done, and I had one job to do. Those I love more than anything in the world were all gathered around me, supporting and praying. Pregnancy had gone well, and I was beyond excited to embrace this new role that I had wanted for my whole life.
I had somehow known my labor would be long, and after 22 hours of increasingly painful contractions, I succumbed to the epidural. A great decision. I cannot describe how wonderfully intoxicating it was not to feel my legs.
The next four-ish hours of pain-free, pre-pushing labor is the last time in my life that I have been completely at peace.
Pushing was difficult, and after throwing up between pushes for the first hour, I was so exhausted that the nurses had to wake me up for each push the rest of the time. Trey had meconium, so I didn't get to hold him right away. When they finally put him on my chest, I remember thinking, "Is this my baby? This doesn't look like my baby. Who is this?"
A scenario far from ideal already. Cue downward spiral.
Then the hospital stay, where there is no nighttime and some of the nurses don't understand that when you haven't slept for 40 or more hours, things need to be explained in terms a toddler would understand. And maybe multiple times. And you hurt. And you feel and look awful. And the visitors, bless their hearts, don't stop coming. And the baby cries. And nursing is hard. And blah, blah, blah on and on for three months.
The following are highlights of the things I wish I had known about having a baby:
- It may be beautiful, it is definitely a miracle, but it is gross. Breaking your water...gross. The stuff that comes out of you afterwards...gross. Your squishy, stretch-marky, empty bubble of a baby belly with its cavernous belly button...gross.
- Reading the words "you won't sleep much", and even internalizing the idea, cannot prepare you for not sleeping much. Unless you have truly been sleep deprived before, you cannot understand what sleep deprivation means. It is horrible. Makes you think and do unthinkable things. The purest form of torture on the planet.
- Sometimes babies just cry. For no reason.
- Nursing may be natural, but it doesn't always come naturally. And sometimes it hurts. Nursing wasn't easy for us. My supply wasn't great, probably because of my mental condition, and I constantly worried about that. Was never able to pump. When Trey was eight weeks old, after the whole hospitalization/milk-allergy situation, I gave it up. And struggled with guilt from then on, as all of my new-mom friends happily nursed their babies with seemingly no problems.
- The hospital stay? Not blissful. In my studying, on reading that we would stay in the hospital for three days, I remember thinking, What am I going to do there for three days? The answer is most certainly not contentedly, peacefully rocking your baby and catching up on sleep.
Your time is not your own. For the nurses, the clock reigns supreme, and whether you're nursing or just got the baby to sleep or just got to sleep yourself, when it's time to come in and check on you, the lights come on and they do their thing. Oh this made me so mad.
Trey was born on a Thursday morning. We got to rest some with relatively few visitors that day. Friday morning I desperately wanted a shower (hadn't had one for 48 hours), but was told the doctor would come and see me by 8AM and I needed to wait. At 8AM, our first visitors arrived. They kept coming until the doctor finally came to see me at 3:00 that afternoon. And when he left, the visitors started coming again, and stayed until 8:00 that night.
No shower. No naps. My only breaks were to nurse, and even then we had people knocking on the door and I had to deal with the self-imposed guilt of either them waiting the super-long time it took for Trey to eat or just leaving without seeing us.
If one of you very few readers happened to be among the visitors that day, I mean no offense to you by this. We were not prepared for the sheer onslaught of people, and my frame of mind at the time was not the best. Again, sleep deprivation, looking like death, and general fear of the unknown do not a pleasant visitee make. I do understand that the visits were made out of love.
Though this time, I honestly hope there will be fewer.
- Postpartum depression is real. This was an afterthought in all my pregnancy studying. I had wanted to be a mom forever, I was strong in my faith, and I was prepared. This would be no problem for me.
Except that it was, and it hit me like a truck. I would get so angry when Brandon brought Trey to me for feedings - he just finished eating! I cried all the time. I apologized over and over to Trey that he had such a bad mom. Didn't touch my Bible for almost 6 weeks. I was mad at God, because this was supposed to be such a wonderful time for me, why couldn't He take the sadness away?
It was deep and dark, and I never got help for it. I was so ashamed. This was not supposed to happen to me.
By God's grace, it did subside with time. My doctor has told me she will go ahead and treat me for depression this time, whether or not it comes. I am so glad, and pray that it keeps me from going back there.
My studying strategy this time? Remembering as much as I can of Trey's first few months, asking advice from those who have been there recently, and praying. Hard.
Sorry to dis you, What to Expect When You're Expecting, but experience is the only real preparation.
The problem is, there is no education for childbirth except childbirth itself.
In my mind, even to this day, I failed the road test.
Don't get me wrong, I know Trey is fine now, normal (maybe), spoiled, healthy, happy. But if I could go back and redo the first three months of his life, knowing what I know now, I would do it in a heartbeat.
I went through postpartum depression after Trey's birth, and I don't know whether the situation being so different from what I expected caused the depression, or if the depression just came and made everything worse than it already was.
I look back fondly on my labor with Trey. This may sound funny, but other than the pain, the memories are good ones. The prep work had been done, and I had one job to do. Those I love more than anything in the world were all gathered around me, supporting and praying. Pregnancy had gone well, and I was beyond excited to embrace this new role that I had wanted for my whole life.
I had somehow known my labor would be long, and after 22 hours of increasingly painful contractions, I succumbed to the epidural. A great decision. I cannot describe how wonderfully intoxicating it was not to feel my legs.
The next four-ish hours of pain-free, pre-pushing labor is the last time in my life that I have been completely at peace.
Pushing was difficult, and after throwing up between pushes for the first hour, I was so exhausted that the nurses had to wake me up for each push the rest of the time. Trey had meconium, so I didn't get to hold him right away. When they finally put him on my chest, I remember thinking, "Is this my baby? This doesn't look like my baby. Who is this?"
A scenario far from ideal already. Cue downward spiral.
Then the hospital stay, where there is no nighttime and some of the nurses don't understand that when you haven't slept for 40 or more hours, things need to be explained in terms a toddler would understand. And maybe multiple times. And you hurt. And you feel and look awful. And the visitors, bless their hearts, don't stop coming. And the baby cries. And nursing is hard. And blah, blah, blah on and on for three months.
The following are highlights of the things I wish I had known about having a baby:
- It may be beautiful, it is definitely a miracle, but it is gross. Breaking your water...gross. The stuff that comes out of you afterwards...gross. Your squishy, stretch-marky, empty bubble of a baby belly with its cavernous belly button...gross.
- Reading the words "you won't sleep much", and even internalizing the idea, cannot prepare you for not sleeping much. Unless you have truly been sleep deprived before, you cannot understand what sleep deprivation means. It is horrible. Makes you think and do unthinkable things. The purest form of torture on the planet.
- Sometimes babies just cry. For no reason.
- Nursing may be natural, but it doesn't always come naturally. And sometimes it hurts. Nursing wasn't easy for us. My supply wasn't great, probably because of my mental condition, and I constantly worried about that. Was never able to pump. When Trey was eight weeks old, after the whole hospitalization/milk-allergy situation, I gave it up. And struggled with guilt from then on, as all of my new-mom friends happily nursed their babies with seemingly no problems.
- The hospital stay? Not blissful. In my studying, on reading that we would stay in the hospital for three days, I remember thinking, What am I going to do there for three days? The answer is most certainly not contentedly, peacefully rocking your baby and catching up on sleep.
Your time is not your own. For the nurses, the clock reigns supreme, and whether you're nursing or just got the baby to sleep or just got to sleep yourself, when it's time to come in and check on you, the lights come on and they do their thing. Oh this made me so mad.
Trey was born on a Thursday morning. We got to rest some with relatively few visitors that day. Friday morning I desperately wanted a shower (hadn't had one for 48 hours), but was told the doctor would come and see me by 8AM and I needed to wait. At 8AM, our first visitors arrived. They kept coming until the doctor finally came to see me at 3:00 that afternoon. And when he left, the visitors started coming again, and stayed until 8:00 that night.
No shower. No naps. My only breaks were to nurse, and even then we had people knocking on the door and I had to deal with the self-imposed guilt of either them waiting the super-long time it took for Trey to eat or just leaving without seeing us.
If one of you very few readers happened to be among the visitors that day, I mean no offense to you by this. We were not prepared for the sheer onslaught of people, and my frame of mind at the time was not the best. Again, sleep deprivation, looking like death, and general fear of the unknown do not a pleasant visitee make. I do understand that the visits were made out of love.
Though this time, I honestly hope there will be fewer.
- Postpartum depression is real. This was an afterthought in all my pregnancy studying. I had wanted to be a mom forever, I was strong in my faith, and I was prepared. This would be no problem for me.
Except that it was, and it hit me like a truck. I would get so angry when Brandon brought Trey to me for feedings - he just finished eating! I cried all the time. I apologized over and over to Trey that he had such a bad mom. Didn't touch my Bible for almost 6 weeks. I was mad at God, because this was supposed to be such a wonderful time for me, why couldn't He take the sadness away?
It was deep and dark, and I never got help for it. I was so ashamed. This was not supposed to happen to me.
By God's grace, it did subside with time. My doctor has told me she will go ahead and treat me for depression this time, whether or not it comes. I am so glad, and pray that it keeps me from going back there.
My studying strategy this time? Remembering as much as I can of Trey's first few months, asking advice from those who have been there recently, and praying. Hard.
Sorry to dis you, What to Expect When You're Expecting, but experience is the only real preparation.
Comments
Well, I was one of those visitors...but I sure hope that maybe I fell into the 'exception' category, where you really did enjoy that I came :) BUT, I do understand the non-stop visitor thing. No offense taken.
This blog will be good specifics as to how I can pray for you in the coming months. Love you and I know you will do GREAT!!
For more resourses, here's a great list of ways to help ward of PPD: http://moxie.blogs.com/14Tips.pdf
Maybe you can just ask for no visitors outside of immediate family in the hospital?? I hope no one would be offended by that.
I'll be praying for you. God has enough grace for it all.