July 25, 2018

Baby Blues

Hey guys! It's been a minute. I know I said I was going to be better at this blogging, but life happens.

I don't even have time to blog right now because I should be writing my paper (SO CLOSE TO BEING DONE WITH MY MASTERS!!!)

This last month things have been crazy. I also feel like I have been super stressed and just kind of down. I also do not feel like I ever recovered from my postpartum depression after Charlie was born.

So here is a big rant about postpartum depression, baby blues, trauma, and maybe just an overall stressed out mom's voice needing to vent.

I've wrote about Charlie's birth before, but not about my feelings. So here we go.

Charlie was born almost a year ago. My labor story was crappy. My epidural sucked. It made my blood pressure bottom out. I had tunnel vision as soon as he finished and my blood pressure was dropping fast. Luckily my nurse was right there and bolused 3 liters of fluid to help bring it back up. The lowest it got was 70/40. I actually thought I was going to die. I pictured myself intubated, and a c-section being performed while I was out. I pictured my daughter never seeing me again. I tried to imagine if my family would be ok and how they would go on. All of those thoughts and anxiety hit me like a brick wall in a matter of seconds. But luckily the fluids helped and I stayed awake the whole time.

But because the epidural did that I wasn't able to use it, so by the time Charlie was ready to come out there was no more numbing. LIKE NONE.

He was a BIG boy at 8 pounds 10 ounces. He was also super wide in the shoulders and got stuck as he was coming out. Because he got stuck he ended up taking his first breath while he was still inside. When he came out he was blue, limp and not moving. Thankfully the baby catcher was an experienced NICU nurse (Heavenly Father was watching out for us). The doctor delayed chord clamping, even though Charlie was not moving. The nurse was vigorously stimulating him and trying to get him to cry. Nothing. Just silence. I could feel my heart beating out of my chest. I knew what was happening. I've seen this, I've been on the other side. I've helped resuscitate babies. But now I was helpless. I was at the mercy of the nurses and doctors (luckily I worked closely with the NICU doctor for the last year).


Charlie was intubated and after some deep sucitioning let out a pitiful cry but turned pink. I felt relief, but I knew the battle was won, but a war still needed to be fought.

He had umbilical lines (the artery one is dangerous because if it comes out a baby can bleed out and die in minutes). Because of those lines he wasn't allowed to be held. The first night I got to hold him because the nurse felt bad. I held him for an hour and it was the best. But then he had to be put back in his glass crib and I left to go pump.

8 long days were spent in the NICU. I cried everyday. I just wanted him home. I knew how lucky we were he didn't have any lasting neurological damage and that we only had to spend 8 days in the ICU.

Fast forward 2 weeks. Charlie is diagnosed with laryngomalcia. A chronic breathing disorder that was luckily super mild so it required some antiacid medication and waiting for him to grow.

Another week and Charlie went for his circumcision. Turns out he has hypospadius. Instantly I wonder if this came from when I had a CT scan during pregnancy because of the concern I had a blood clot. And then after the attempted circumcision he wouldn't stop bleeding. Apparently my blood thinners must be passing into the breast milk. We left an hour later with 3 stitches in his penis.

December required us to follow up with Children's Heart Center. The hole in his heart is small, but still there.

This kid could not catch a break.

In January he ended up back in the hospital with RSV.

A few months later Lucy ended up in the ER with labored breathing. The doctor informs me that there is a cyst on her lung.

We get back in the hospital about 2 months later for a nasty gastric bug. The doctor decides to order a chest x-ray to see if the cyst grew. NO MORE CYST (the work of Heavenly Father again).

Meanwhile I'm struggling with losing the weight I gained. I did lose 60 pounds but I still have 30 pounds I wanted to lose. I hated looking in the mirror. I wasn't happy with myself.

I have been been feeling depressed and anxious for 10 months. I've had panic attacks 1-3 times a week. Finally I seeked out help. I feel better since getting help even though I have some stuff to work on.

Luckily I have a beautiful family that is patient and supportive, friends that are amazing & a strong testimony.

We do fun activities as a family and spend more time together more than ever (I love working as a school nurse).








Well that's the end of my rant. Every time someone asks me when I'm going to have another kid all I think about is those feelings of almost dying and picturing my kids having to grow up without their mother. Needless to say shop is closed.

I hope that anyone who has postpartum depression seeks out help sooner than I did. Mothers often try to do everything on their own. This is why women die from heart attacks more often then men, we are less likely to seek help in a timely manner. I did not want to be seen as weak. But getting help is not weak. It takes strength to acknowledge you can't do everything alone.


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