Turtle-Love was born 32 days before his due date.
I have 2 due dates with this kiddo - my due date via my last menstrual cycle (LMP) that the Dr's office si going by - and my due date via first ultrasound that the Ultrasound/Diagnosis center is going by (which is run by the lead Dr at my office).
We all know due dates are estimates. Or, at least we should. But that doesn't keep the majority of us (in my experience) from using them, relying on them, stressing out about them.
According to one due date (via ultrasound) I'm due 5/9 and that means yesterday I was 32 days out til my due date. CUE PANIC
Yesterday morning, despite how much I tried to relax, I was just maxed out in the stress department. It took a good cry, family support, my mother and chocolate. To finally get a good chunk of it out of my system. My little sister and I took off with Turtle-Love to my Dad's for the day. I stopped and got the yarn I needed to work on Little Bean's outfit I'm crocheting on the way out of town. I relaxed inside crocheting before lunch, and after lunch took my crocheting outside to soak up some much needed Vitamin D. My sister kept up with Turtle-Love for me while we were there - along with my Dad and Step-Mom of course - and they all came outside to play while I took in the sunshine. The weather was amazing yesterday. It was great to relax and crochet while listening and peaking at the giggles from my son while he played. I felt immensely better by the time we got home, and spent the rest of the evening relaxing and watching Army Wives on Netflix, while cuddling with Turtle-Love or watching him play with Toad.
According to my other due date (via LMP) I'll be 32 days out on Thursday. I'm referring to this 5 day period as "Doom week". The funny thing is though, I can't figure out what I'm more worried about - if she comes early or if she doesn't. Weird. I know. No one wants their baby to come early. Especially a mother who has already been through having a baby hooked up to machines in the NICU. It is terrifying to see your child that way. At the same time though - I would know what to expect. I could guesstimate at the labor and how it would go. I would know what to expect would happen once she was born. I know how the NICU works. How transferring works. How pumping and sitting at my child's side aching and waiting for it to be safe to hold them works. I know what it is like to have to leave during shift change - and using that time to finally eat more than a snack in the hall way. I know what it is like to feel guilty for sleeping too late and missing morning rounds. Or for not waking up to the alarm to pump in the middle of the night. I know what it is like to admit you are too tired to stay, that it is too late for you to be at your child's bedside anymore and that you have to go home - without them. I know what it is like to call the nurse's station before you go to sleep - before you can sleep - to check on your baby. No one wants that. But at the same time, I don't know what happens past this point. Will she be slightly early? On time? Late? What then? What will labor be like? Can I handle it? Can I birth a full term baby, or at least one that is bigger? How will I feel? Will I really wish her out before she is ready because I cannot imagine that. What is it like to be able to keep your baby with you after birth? Can I handle it? Can I handle these next few weeks and keep up with my 28 month old?? Can I keep up after she is born? It just goes on. I know, logically, that I will adjust. It might take time but I will inevitable be a mother to two children and I will absolutely love it. That doesn't keep me from being worried about it and a thousand other things.
And so... at 35 weeks today (or 36 weeks on Thursday) I'm a little stressed out. I'm trying really really hard not to be - and just getting past yesterday was one big hurdle. I suspect Thursday may be another. Right now I'm doing okay. I have work to throw my self in to, and crocheting to do. Once this "doom week" passes, I think I'll feel up to tackling the list of things we didn't finish by this time like I had hoped.
Side note: It really sucks to have these nesting urges and be too scared to clean your house because it might cause labor -_- Slightly irrational fear? You bet'cha. Doesn't mean it isn't valid.
Showing posts with label preemie. Show all posts
Showing posts with label preemie. Show all posts
A Quickish Update
Friday, March 8, 2013
Alright - a quickish update and then on to THE POST.
I'm 30 weeks (31 by ultrasound) and doing well! My blood pressure is good, Bean's heart rate has been good. No real complaints, nothing major happening. The ultrasound I had a couple weeks ago showed no premature cervical shortening which is awesome. It did, however, show us that Little Bean was breech. She was hanging out yogi style, with at least one heal near her bum, sitting on my right side facing my left. I had an appointment the following Friday, at which her heart beat was found below my belly button (which to me says she is transverse or head down, not breech) but the OB I saw said that if she hadn't turned by 37 weeks we would talk about external versions and then a c-section at 39 weeks. Aaawwweeesssooommmmeeee. NOT.
The day after was a local birth expo which worked out great for us. We found some awesome places to take Turtle-Love for play time, met an acupuncturist, two chiropractors, a doula in training who I happen to know (but didn't know was a doula!), and a bunch of other local resources for families and pregnant women. We also each scored an Under The Nile cloth teething toy for visiting 10 vendors, and my name was drawn during a "Grand Prize Drawing" so I got to pick a prize from the good stuff. I chose a gift bag put together by another local doula, who happened to be the birth class instructor we loved from our last pregnancy. The bag included two Earth Mama Angel Baby gift packs, one set of newborn goodies and one set of pregnant mama goodies, a lavender and flax seed eye pillow for stress relief, two ribbon edged burp rags, and a rice sock. Very sweet and super helpful!
I really liked one of the chiropractors we met. She not only explained to me how my sciatic nerve pain could be telling us that my pelvis is out of alignment likely adding to or even causing the breech issue (and explained it awesomely well I will add) but also offered to work with us on payment if my insurance doesn't cover her office. In fact, her business card actually says "Insurance - Cash - Charity" as payment options. She said there was no reason to let something like money get in the way of helping me with the sciatic pain and hopefully preventing a c-section. So, I now have an appointment with her next week. Also, my doula friend is currently in the process of completing her training and offered her services to us gratis. These are the kind of people I like meeting in the world. Can we please have more of them? Okay, great! We had an official meeting with her at our place yesterday and I'll be contacting her in just a bit to let her know we would love to have her on our "birth team". And before everyone wonders, no it isn't just because her services will not cost us in cash. We actually feel that we connected well with her. And HELLO she actually swayed hubz to team doula and got him on board! Ummm, big score there. I also love the idea that we can help her get the hands on experience she needs for her certification. I actually hope to complete doula certification myself in the nearish future (potentially through where she is - the program sounded pretty awesome) and hope that other people will grant me the same kindness. Plus, the one birth she has already attended as a doula was with my OB's practice and at the hospital we will be going to, which is excellent luck.
We've fallen behind on our birth classes through Birth Boot Camp, but we are determined to catch up! PS - go check them out. Use the buttons up there ^ (see top of post) and over there --> (see side bar next to post). So far we are LOVING these classes. Very informative, hubz is staying focused and learning, and there was a bunch of stuff I didn't really know - or at least didn't know this much about!
Turtle-Love is doing excellently and enjoys singing, dancing, playing with his matchbox cars, the occasional movie, and generally shocking us with his adorable banter and delighted playfulness. Of course it isn't all peaches, but the good and fun far outweighs the tough and rough spots. He is also addicted to my belly. If he can see any belly skin he has to touch my belly, hold my belly, kiss my belly, poke my belly button and exclaim "Baaayyy Beeee! I kiss baby. Hi baby! Mama baby belly!" Sometimes he tells us he has a baby in his belly too *snicker*. Sure thing kiddo, sure thing. He has also gained an interest in princesses, including dressing up as one, and now owns a pink lady bug shirt with red glitter on it. *shrug* Hey, the kid likes what he likes and we wont stand in the way of that. I think he is rather well rounded :-) I suppose that is what happens when you spend a ton of your time with girls your age but really admire your daddy. ;-)
In other news, the babywearing group a good friend of mine and I are starting up locally is having our first meeting on St. Patrick's Day. So excited! If you are in or near central VA contact me for specifics!
Alright, so that actually wasn't terribly quick was it? Oops. Oh well. On to The Post. Actually. I'm going to write it as a separate post. I'll link it up here when I'm done.
For giggles... a picture of hubz and Turtle-Love the other morning...
I'm 30 weeks (31 by ultrasound) and doing well! My blood pressure is good, Bean's heart rate has been good. No real complaints, nothing major happening. The ultrasound I had a couple weeks ago showed no premature cervical shortening which is awesome. It did, however, show us that Little Bean was breech. She was hanging out yogi style, with at least one heal near her bum, sitting on my right side facing my left. I had an appointment the following Friday, at which her heart beat was found below my belly button (which to me says she is transverse or head down, not breech) but the OB I saw said that if she hadn't turned by 37 weeks we would talk about external versions and then a c-section at 39 weeks. Aaawwweeesssooommmmeeee. NOT.
The day after was a local birth expo which worked out great for us. We found some awesome places to take Turtle-Love for play time, met an acupuncturist, two chiropractors, a doula in training who I happen to know (but didn't know was a doula!), and a bunch of other local resources for families and pregnant women. We also each scored an Under The Nile cloth teething toy for visiting 10 vendors, and my name was drawn during a "Grand Prize Drawing" so I got to pick a prize from the good stuff. I chose a gift bag put together by another local doula, who happened to be the birth class instructor we loved from our last pregnancy. The bag included two Earth Mama Angel Baby gift packs, one set of newborn goodies and one set of pregnant mama goodies, a lavender and flax seed eye pillow for stress relief, two ribbon edged burp rags, and a rice sock. Very sweet and super helpful!
I really liked one of the chiropractors we met. She not only explained to me how my sciatic nerve pain could be telling us that my pelvis is out of alignment likely adding to or even causing the breech issue (and explained it awesomely well I will add) but also offered to work with us on payment if my insurance doesn't cover her office. In fact, her business card actually says "Insurance - Cash - Charity" as payment options. She said there was no reason to let something like money get in the way of helping me with the sciatic pain and hopefully preventing a c-section. So, I now have an appointment with her next week. Also, my doula friend is currently in the process of completing her training and offered her services to us gratis. These are the kind of people I like meeting in the world. Can we please have more of them? Okay, great! We had an official meeting with her at our place yesterday and I'll be contacting her in just a bit to let her know we would love to have her on our "birth team". And before everyone wonders, no it isn't just because her services will not cost us in cash. We actually feel that we connected well with her. And HELLO she actually swayed hubz to team doula and got him on board! Ummm, big score there. I also love the idea that we can help her get the hands on experience she needs for her certification. I actually hope to complete doula certification myself in the nearish future (potentially through where she is - the program sounded pretty awesome) and hope that other people will grant me the same kindness. Plus, the one birth she has already attended as a doula was with my OB's practice and at the hospital we will be going to, which is excellent luck.
We've fallen behind on our birth classes through Birth Boot Camp, but we are determined to catch up! PS - go check them out. Use the buttons up there ^ (see top of post) and over there --> (see side bar next to post). So far we are LOVING these classes. Very informative, hubz is staying focused and learning, and there was a bunch of stuff I didn't really know - or at least didn't know this much about!
Turtle-Love is doing excellently and enjoys singing, dancing, playing with his matchbox cars, the occasional movie, and generally shocking us with his adorable banter and delighted playfulness. Of course it isn't all peaches, but the good and fun far outweighs the tough and rough spots. He is also addicted to my belly. If he can see any belly skin he has to touch my belly, hold my belly, kiss my belly, poke my belly button and exclaim "Baaayyy Beeee! I kiss baby. Hi baby! Mama baby belly!" Sometimes he tells us he has a baby in his belly too *snicker*. Sure thing kiddo, sure thing. He has also gained an interest in princesses, including dressing up as one, and now owns a pink lady bug shirt with red glitter on it. *shrug* Hey, the kid likes what he likes and we wont stand in the way of that. I think he is rather well rounded :-) I suppose that is what happens when you spend a ton of your time with girls your age but really admire your daddy. ;-)
In other news, the babywearing group a good friend of mine and I are starting up locally is having our first meeting on St. Patrick's Day. So excited! If you are in or near central VA contact me for specifics!
Alright, so that actually wasn't terribly quick was it? Oops. Oh well. On to The Post. Actually. I'm going to write it as a separate post. I'll link it up here when I'm done.
For giggles... a picture of hubz and Turtle-Love the other morning...
 |
| My co-sleeping ninja Turtle-Love, and Daddy |
Struggle
Wednesday, February 20, 2013
Today, I struggle.
Pregnancy is somewhat blissful for me. As an adolescent I had pretty severe depression. It was heavier in the Spring, which is unusual. I was medicated, somewhat heavily, through the end of middle school to help me but nothing ever worked they way one wants it to. The depression was never really gone. As a teenager my depression was triggered by nearly everything, but especially social interaction. Add to that low self-esteem and body image issues because I was a big girl surrounded by tiny girl friends, and you get a bit of a recipe for disaster, in my case at least. This isn't the time for all the hairy details, but it got bad. Really bad. I reached a turning point after a slight disaster and then a bit of a miracle - the opportunity to spend time with my newborn niece. Everything didn't magically get better overnight, but slowly the changes came. It was this time in my life that I started going the more natural route. I stopped taking the medications (that weren't working) and I was more aware of the over the counter pain killers and cold remedies that I chose. I'm not saying I always made good choices, but the awareness started then.
Alright so that is a little off topic, but the point is... emotionally things were rough for a really long time. Things were still rough, mainly in the spring, as I came into adulthood. There were still rough patches and times of depression in the year I became pregnant with my son.
After discovering we were pregnant the first time, I was terrified. I was worried I would be more susceptible to postpartum depression. I worried what life would be like having a low point with a new baby. I worried I would fail as a mother.
To my surprise, and the surprise of my now husband and likely my family as well, pregnancy was mostly happiness. Rainbows, unicorns, you get the picture. Of course there were stresses. Actually, there were extreme stresses (thus the preterm birth). But in spite of all the stress and the emotions and hormones from those stress there were no low times. None, nada, nilche. It was like... I was normal.Okay seriously, what is really normal. But for the sake of delivering this message we will just stick with that analogy. Even after the birth of my son, there came no low points. There was definite hardship, and struggle, and stress. I did have some self doubts, and blame, and many other not so pleasant emotions surrounding his birth, or really the fact that he was 5 weeks early. But even with all of that there was no depression. In fact, 2 years later and some change there still hasn't been any actual depression. At least, nothing that lasted longer than a day or so, or that wasn't cured by chocolate or ice cream or a day out with the girls. You know... normal things. Well... I assume they are normal I guess. Again, you get the picture. (I hope).
This pregnancy has also been happiness. Unicorns, and rainbows, and puffy clouds, and puddles to jump in, rain to dance in, etc. These are a few of my favorite things... you get it? In fact... there hasn't been any serious stress like during my last pregnancy. The only real stress that I feel is worry. I am worried about having another preterm birth. This is a normal worry. Through the worry, and through some modern medical technologies, I am trusting my body. I learning to trust that my body knows when and how to deliver this baby. That my body and the baby I am growing inside me will be able to decide when it is right to be born. My son did, he needed to be born and so together with my body that happened. It happened early, but I can see and accept, now, that there was a reason for that.
A test of this trust in my body is coming up. One that will either reassure me, or could potentially leave me doubting my body and its ability to properly house and grow and protect my baby. On Friday I have an ultrasound scheduled. One extra ultrasound. How can an ultrasound be such a test in this trust? The ultrasound isn't to check on Little Bean, to see her little toes or watch her precious heart beat. This ultrasound is to measure the length of my cervix. You see, in some women, preterm labor can be caused by an early shortening of the cervix. The closer you get to birth, the shorter the cervix becomes. With that is softening and dilating and all of that great stuff. But when that great stuff starts to happen too early, it can mean trouble. Can. Not always, not with everyone, but sometimes.
And so.... I'm nervous. I'm anxious. But I'm not struggling because of that.
Well then what was the show for, hmmm?! I'm getting there.
I'm struggling over the birth path we are on. This appointment seems to be contributing to it, obviously since I intended to come here and just complain about our birth arrangement and out came all of that.
Initially, I wanted my second birth to be at the Birth Center. With a midwife, and a doula, in a peaceful and serene environment. With water, and candles, and music, etc. You know, very zen, very empowering. Unfortunately, our finances have yet to align with the cosmos for our birth. They likely wont. We don't have insurance, and since we can't afford to pay for this out of pocket we applied for and received FAMIS coverage. It's like a step above medicaid. State provided (or is it federal? I'm pretty sure it is state) medical coverage - with a co-pay and a deductible. Sort of an in-between insurance set up. I am beyond grateful for this. Unfortunately, this also meant the Birth Center birth was taken off the table. FAMIS doesn't cover birth centers, and we can't afford that out of pocket either.
I'm becoming increasingly frustrated this week with not being able to have the birth I feel is right for us and this baby, because of money. It troubles me to my core that the barrier between the wonderful zen birth I have imagined and the birth we are planning is a little bit of cash. Okay, it is quite a bit of cash. That doesn't mean we aren't still planning an awesome hospital birth, because we are. I'm still planning candles and music and hopefully water. While we are delivering at the same hospital as we did before, it is a new building. We haven't toured it yet but from what I hear it is very beautiful, with wonderful views and a peaceful setting in the delivery rooms. We will see. In fact... I'm going to schedule that tour today.... Anyhow, I am struggling and a little down in the dumps today because I suppose I am pouting. My husband doesn't want a doula, I can't have a midwife, and the facility I wanted to birth in and the care difference I hoped to receive this time is not available to us because of finances.
It is time to just put my big girl panties on and deal. But for today, I'll pout.
Side note: I bought some maternity panties the other day. WHOAH the difference. Fluffy moms... I'm highly recommending this thing called the foldover brief. It is a panty with a waist that can be folded and tucked below belly (or under the hang as I say - some of you will get that) OR you can leave it up... and guess what happens when you leave it up??? It stays!!! I'm amazed. I found mine at Motherhood Maternity, but I'm sure they are available elsewhere too.
Pregnancy is somewhat blissful for me. As an adolescent I had pretty severe depression. It was heavier in the Spring, which is unusual. I was medicated, somewhat heavily, through the end of middle school to help me but nothing ever worked they way one wants it to. The depression was never really gone. As a teenager my depression was triggered by nearly everything, but especially social interaction. Add to that low self-esteem and body image issues because I was a big girl surrounded by tiny girl friends, and you get a bit of a recipe for disaster, in my case at least. This isn't the time for all the hairy details, but it got bad. Really bad. I reached a turning point after a slight disaster and then a bit of a miracle - the opportunity to spend time with my newborn niece. Everything didn't magically get better overnight, but slowly the changes came. It was this time in my life that I started going the more natural route. I stopped taking the medications (that weren't working) and I was more aware of the over the counter pain killers and cold remedies that I chose. I'm not saying I always made good choices, but the awareness started then.
Alright so that is a little off topic, but the point is... emotionally things were rough for a really long time. Things were still rough, mainly in the spring, as I came into adulthood. There were still rough patches and times of depression in the year I became pregnant with my son.
After discovering we were pregnant the first time, I was terrified. I was worried I would be more susceptible to postpartum depression. I worried what life would be like having a low point with a new baby. I worried I would fail as a mother.
To my surprise, and the surprise of my now husband and likely my family as well, pregnancy was mostly happiness. Rainbows, unicorns, you get the picture. Of course there were stresses. Actually, there were extreme stresses (thus the preterm birth). But in spite of all the stress and the emotions and hormones from those stress there were no low times. None, nada, nilche. It was like... I was normal.Okay seriously, what is really normal. But for the sake of delivering this message we will just stick with that analogy. Even after the birth of my son, there came no low points. There was definite hardship, and struggle, and stress. I did have some self doubts, and blame, and many other not so pleasant emotions surrounding his birth, or really the fact that he was 5 weeks early. But even with all of that there was no depression. In fact, 2 years later and some change there still hasn't been any actual depression. At least, nothing that lasted longer than a day or so, or that wasn't cured by chocolate or ice cream or a day out with the girls. You know... normal things. Well... I assume they are normal I guess. Again, you get the picture. (I hope).
This pregnancy has also been happiness. Unicorns, and rainbows, and puffy clouds, and puddles to jump in, rain to dance in, etc. These are a few of my favorite things... you get it? In fact... there hasn't been any serious stress like during my last pregnancy. The only real stress that I feel is worry. I am worried about having another preterm birth. This is a normal worry. Through the worry, and through some modern medical technologies, I am trusting my body. I learning to trust that my body knows when and how to deliver this baby. That my body and the baby I am growing inside me will be able to decide when it is right to be born. My son did, he needed to be born and so together with my body that happened. It happened early, but I can see and accept, now, that there was a reason for that.
A test of this trust in my body is coming up. One that will either reassure me, or could potentially leave me doubting my body and its ability to properly house and grow and protect my baby. On Friday I have an ultrasound scheduled. One extra ultrasound. How can an ultrasound be such a test in this trust? The ultrasound isn't to check on Little Bean, to see her little toes or watch her precious heart beat. This ultrasound is to measure the length of my cervix. You see, in some women, preterm labor can be caused by an early shortening of the cervix. The closer you get to birth, the shorter the cervix becomes. With that is softening and dilating and all of that great stuff. But when that great stuff starts to happen too early, it can mean trouble. Can. Not always, not with everyone, but sometimes.
And so.... I'm nervous. I'm anxious. But I'm not struggling because of that.
Well then what was the show for, hmmm?! I'm getting there.
I'm struggling over the birth path we are on. This appointment seems to be contributing to it, obviously since I intended to come here and just complain about our birth arrangement and out came all of that.
Initially, I wanted my second birth to be at the Birth Center. With a midwife, and a doula, in a peaceful and serene environment. With water, and candles, and music, etc. You know, very zen, very empowering. Unfortunately, our finances have yet to align with the cosmos for our birth. They likely wont. We don't have insurance, and since we can't afford to pay for this out of pocket we applied for and received FAMIS coverage. It's like a step above medicaid. State provided (or is it federal? I'm pretty sure it is state) medical coverage - with a co-pay and a deductible. Sort of an in-between insurance set up. I am beyond grateful for this. Unfortunately, this also meant the Birth Center birth was taken off the table. FAMIS doesn't cover birth centers, and we can't afford that out of pocket either.
I'm becoming increasingly frustrated this week with not being able to have the birth I feel is right for us and this baby, because of money. It troubles me to my core that the barrier between the wonderful zen birth I have imagined and the birth we are planning is a little bit of cash. Okay, it is quite a bit of cash. That doesn't mean we aren't still planning an awesome hospital birth, because we are. I'm still planning candles and music and hopefully water. While we are delivering at the same hospital as we did before, it is a new building. We haven't toured it yet but from what I hear it is very beautiful, with wonderful views and a peaceful setting in the delivery rooms. We will see. In fact... I'm going to schedule that tour today.... Anyhow, I am struggling and a little down in the dumps today because I suppose I am pouting. My husband doesn't want a doula, I can't have a midwife, and the facility I wanted to birth in and the care difference I hoped to receive this time is not available to us because of finances.
It is time to just put my big girl panties on and deal. But for today, I'll pout.
Side note: I bought some maternity panties the other day. WHOAH the difference. Fluffy moms... I'm highly recommending this thing called the foldover brief. It is a panty with a waist that can be folded and tucked below belly (or under the hang as I say - some of you will get that) OR you can leave it up... and guess what happens when you leave it up??? It stays!!! I'm amazed. I found mine at Motherhood Maternity, but I'm sure they are available elsewhere too.
Progesterone....
Tuesday, December 4, 2012
My OB just called. Last week I had an appointment with her (16 week check up and all) and we agreed to have my progesterone levels checked, as the head OB wants me to receive Progesterone injections. My progesterone levels
are normal, but after talking with the head OB for the practice they
decided that they are not really indicative of whether or not I will
deliver early again, and they are recommending I begin progesterone
injections. I'm not against this (as of right now), I just want to make an informed
decision...
Some background...
My son is turning 2 tomorrow. (Holy freaking COW!) I delivered him at 35 weeks and a couple days, after my water broke spontaneously in the night, starting my labor. (zero contractions prior to water breaking) He was delivered 8 hours later, and spent 12 days in the NICU with breathing issues. I had no factors that indicated I would deliver early, I had a completely healthy and normal pregnancy. The only potential factors would be stress (our home foreclosed, I delivered 2 days before we were supposed to be out) and he was born with a lung infection - unknown if labor was caused by the infection or if the infection was caused by the rather quick labor.
I'm currently 17 (nearly 18) weeks pregnant with our second child. My OB is suggesting that I start progesterone injections, and mentioned there was a study conducted that clearly showed the benefits of progesterone injections, usually started at 16 weeks, in preventing preterm labor in subsequent pregnancies - I had asked for literature on the subject to help with my informed decision. I'm currently looking for this study, she could not recall the name off hand. The shot used is called 17 hydroxy progesterone. She is recommending that I choose to take the injections, and that if she had previously delivered early she would take them hands down. She says they do not hurt the baby. She is supportive and understanding of me wanting to do my own research to come to an informed decision before moving forward.
Alternatively I can choose to have my cervical length checked routinely starting at 28 weeks, and begin vaginal progesterone at that point (I believe if needed, but potentially regardless of the outcomes - it was not clear during the conversation).
Of course, there is also the option to not take the progesterone.
I'm wanting to find out if there are any side effects to the progesterone injections, and if they can harm the baby or Turtle-Love since he is still nursing. I also want to find out the pros and cons of waiting and having my cervical length routinely checked....
Let the research begin!
Some background...
My son is turning 2 tomorrow. (Holy freaking COW!) I delivered him at 35 weeks and a couple days, after my water broke spontaneously in the night, starting my labor. (zero contractions prior to water breaking) He was delivered 8 hours later, and spent 12 days in the NICU with breathing issues. I had no factors that indicated I would deliver early, I had a completely healthy and normal pregnancy. The only potential factors would be stress (our home foreclosed, I delivered 2 days before we were supposed to be out) and he was born with a lung infection - unknown if labor was caused by the infection or if the infection was caused by the rather quick labor.
I'm currently 17 (nearly 18) weeks pregnant with our second child. My OB is suggesting that I start progesterone injections, and mentioned there was a study conducted that clearly showed the benefits of progesterone injections, usually started at 16 weeks, in preventing preterm labor in subsequent pregnancies - I had asked for literature on the subject to help with my informed decision. I'm currently looking for this study, she could not recall the name off hand. The shot used is called 17 hydroxy progesterone. She is recommending that I choose to take the injections, and that if she had previously delivered early she would take them hands down. She says they do not hurt the baby. She is supportive and understanding of me wanting to do my own research to come to an informed decision before moving forward.
Alternatively I can choose to have my cervical length checked routinely starting at 28 weeks, and begin vaginal progesterone at that point (I believe if needed, but potentially regardless of the outcomes - it was not clear during the conversation).
Of course, there is also the option to not take the progesterone.
I'm wanting to find out if there are any side effects to the progesterone injections, and if they can harm the baby or Turtle-Love since he is still nursing. I also want to find out the pros and cons of waiting and having my cervical length routinely checked....
Let the research begin!
Being sick constantly is normal?
Wednesday, October 24, 2012
I'm having a bit of trouble swallowing some information a pediatrician my son saw yesterday gave us. According to her it is "perfectly normal" for small children to have colds, fevers, and coughs at least once a month.
Umm.... What???
My husband (at my request) had specifically mentioned that our son has had a decent fever and a cough bad enough that we take him to the doctor's office after a few days and have usually given him an inhaler treatment or four because of wheezing roughly once a month since approximately his first birthday. That was her response. That it was normal.
First of all, I really don't care if you feel it is normal. I would like a further explanation of why, or what, or ideas for better prevention. Not a quick sentence thrown out there to make us feel better, or something.
A little bit of background on this issue might help you see why I am so bothered by this....
A quick version of our birth story
I delivered our son 5 weeks early.
After waking up in a puddle (my water had broken) we went to the hospital and contractions started while we were on the way. I was told we would potentially be there for weeks because I was not in active labor, but they couldn't let me go home because of the risk of infection. An hour or so later we proved that to be wrong when it was decided I was in active labor and dilated to 4 centimeters. Twenty minutes later I was 8 centimeters. As soon as my husband got there I pushed once, maybe twice, and pop! Out came our son. I attribute that last bit to fighting the urge to push for the approximate 10 minutes it took for my husband to get there, as I had sent him home to take care of things since we were told I was not in active labor. Anyhow, from waking up in my waters to the birth of our son only 8.5 hours had passed. He wasn't due til January 6th, but arrive December 5th. A full month early.
He spent his first day of life under an oxygen hood, and then was transferred to the other hospital here locally with a spectacular NICU. There he was placed on a CPAP machine and given surfactant, as he was having trouble breathing on his own. He was also treated for an infection in his lungs, and had a pneumothorax that resolved itself. He received chest x-rays twice daily for a week, once a day for a few days, and a time or two after that within our 12 day NICU stay.
Finally we brought him home.
The first year...I worried over every hiccup, every cough, every sneeze.... I mean first time parents generally do these things. And first time parents who have a preemie?? A preemie who was born without the naturally created chemical that aids in the expansion of your lungs that enable you to breathe without exhausting your being with each breath??? (really it keeps them the tiniest bit expanded when you let all of your air out so that new air has somewhere to go - at least that is my understanding) I was super terrified. I kept myself from calling the doctor every time. I learned to wait certain things out. But I did have a few "uneventful" visits to the office over my worry. I heard an occasional wheeze they could never pick up.... etc. Overall though, his first year was spent relatively uneventful in the sickness department. Thank God(s/dess/desses/) or whatever you choose to thank in these situations, goodness, luck, karma, fate, the grand design.... etc. Thank them all.
A really scary night...
A couple months after his first birthday I rushed him to the hospital in the middle of the night because he had a rather high fever, was lethargic, not able to nurse (very unusual for my boob fiend especially after I had been away all day) and making this very odd sound. I noticed he seemed to be working really hard to breathe. After a chest x-ray a dose of tylenol, a fight with the attending doctor regarding his policy to medicate before a diagnosis which I was not allowing, and a dose of motrin we were sent home. He had a virus, the high fever caused his labored breathing. The virus was not any of the somewhat scary things the doctor was trying to medicate him for (RSV and pneumonia) and we were instructed to treat his fever and see his regular pediatrician later that day ( as it was nearly 4am).
Since then...
We have had bouts of the same thing nearly monthly, not always with a fever. It is never RSV, but is always a virus. Bronchiolitis (not to be confused with bronchitis) is what we were told on a few occasions. He has nearly all the risk factors for it. We have been given an inhaler to give him if he wheezes and whenever else instructed. We have asked about asthma (Toad, Turtle-Love's father, has asthma) and we were told we could call it whatever we wanted, but that asthma was a blanket term used to describe similar problems and that usually it has a trigger such as an allergen, and that it was not diagnosed in children this young.
In July we had Pertusis(Whooping Cough)
That was fun. Turtle-Love and I were both up to date on that particular vaccine (we had recently decided to stop vaccinating) and we both got it anyways. I'm sure it wasn't as bad as it could have been, then again his coughs are always terrifying. They caused some petechiae that was concerning, and he simultaneously had Hand Foot and Mouth, along with an ear infection. That was fun, having the Health Department call you and get all this information, etc. They also demanded that everyone in our household be medicated for it and supplied it for two of our members that do not have insurance. We were the only reported case in the county, as well as the ones surrounding.
Now we are dealing with Pneumonia
My husband took our son to the doctor last week for his cough. No other symptoms really but it was a bad cough, and on a couple occasions Turtle-Love had trouble catching his breath after words, which turned him purple and caused him sheer terror. The doctor said his lungs sounded perfectly clear, but to give him his inhaler three times a day for the next two days and if it didn't get better to come back. Pretty standard.
After two days the cough was virtually gone. We returned to giving him his inhaler only if he wheezed over the weekend. His cough got pretty bad at times, usually at night or after we passed a campfire. He also had a runny nose. As we were camping, I expected some allergies (I was having the same problem, so was my sister - though we had sneezes instead of coughs, poor kid had all three) but was a bit concerned at the severity of his cough. Sunday night, at home, he developed a low grade fever. Monday afternoon it was relatively high. We couldn't get in touch with anyone at his peds office so he went in yesterday morning. The doc he saw, which inspired this post, heard a severe crackle in his left lung. He was prescribed cefdinir twice daily for ten days, and his inhaler three times a day, as well as treatment for his fever.
I'm just irritated that the doctors we have been seeing aren't willing to offer any other information about this monthly occurrence. The idea that someone finds this normal is very shocking to me. Very few of my friends children that are of similar age face monthly bouts of coughing. In fact, none of them do. And I have a lot of friends with similar aged children. Surely if this was normal at least one of them would? I know that his prematurity gives him an extra risk factor. I'm most upset that no one is willing to give us ideas to the cause of these coughs. If it is a virus, where are we picking it up? Is there something we can do to limit the risk of him contracting it again and again? If there is, and I'm certain there is something we could do, none of his doctors are offering it.
I think I'm ready for a second opinion on the issue. By which I mean from a different practice entirely.
Umm.... What???
My husband (at my request) had specifically mentioned that our son has had a decent fever and a cough bad enough that we take him to the doctor's office after a few days and have usually given him an inhaler treatment or four because of wheezing roughly once a month since approximately his first birthday. That was her response. That it was normal.
First of all, I really don't care if you feel it is normal. I would like a further explanation of why, or what, or ideas for better prevention. Not a quick sentence thrown out there to make us feel better, or something.
A little bit of background on this issue might help you see why I am so bothered by this....
A quick version of our birth story
I delivered our son 5 weeks early.
After waking up in a puddle (my water had broken) we went to the hospital and contractions started while we were on the way. I was told we would potentially be there for weeks because I was not in active labor, but they couldn't let me go home because of the risk of infection. An hour or so later we proved that to be wrong when it was decided I was in active labor and dilated to 4 centimeters. Twenty minutes later I was 8 centimeters. As soon as my husband got there I pushed once, maybe twice, and pop! Out came our son. I attribute that last bit to fighting the urge to push for the approximate 10 minutes it took for my husband to get there, as I had sent him home to take care of things since we were told I was not in active labor. Anyhow, from waking up in my waters to the birth of our son only 8.5 hours had passed. He wasn't due til January 6th, but arrive December 5th. A full month early.
He spent his first day of life under an oxygen hood, and then was transferred to the other hospital here locally with a spectacular NICU. There he was placed on a CPAP machine and given surfactant, as he was having trouble breathing on his own. He was also treated for an infection in his lungs, and had a pneumothorax that resolved itself. He received chest x-rays twice daily for a week, once a day for a few days, and a time or two after that within our 12 day NICU stay.
Finally we brought him home.
The first year...I worried over every hiccup, every cough, every sneeze.... I mean first time parents generally do these things. And first time parents who have a preemie?? A preemie who was born without the naturally created chemical that aids in the expansion of your lungs that enable you to breathe without exhausting your being with each breath??? (really it keeps them the tiniest bit expanded when you let all of your air out so that new air has somewhere to go - at least that is my understanding) I was super terrified. I kept myself from calling the doctor every time. I learned to wait certain things out. But I did have a few "uneventful" visits to the office over my worry. I heard an occasional wheeze they could never pick up.... etc. Overall though, his first year was spent relatively uneventful in the sickness department. Thank God(s/dess/desses/) or whatever you choose to thank in these situations, goodness, luck, karma, fate, the grand design.... etc. Thank them all.
A really scary night...
A couple months after his first birthday I rushed him to the hospital in the middle of the night because he had a rather high fever, was lethargic, not able to nurse (very unusual for my boob fiend especially after I had been away all day) and making this very odd sound. I noticed he seemed to be working really hard to breathe. After a chest x-ray a dose of tylenol, a fight with the attending doctor regarding his policy to medicate before a diagnosis which I was not allowing, and a dose of motrin we were sent home. He had a virus, the high fever caused his labored breathing. The virus was not any of the somewhat scary things the doctor was trying to medicate him for (RSV and pneumonia) and we were instructed to treat his fever and see his regular pediatrician later that day ( as it was nearly 4am).
Since then...
We have had bouts of the same thing nearly monthly, not always with a fever. It is never RSV, but is always a virus. Bronchiolitis (not to be confused with bronchitis) is what we were told on a few occasions. He has nearly all the risk factors for it. We have been given an inhaler to give him if he wheezes and whenever else instructed. We have asked about asthma (Toad, Turtle-Love's father, has asthma) and we were told we could call it whatever we wanted, but that asthma was a blanket term used to describe similar problems and that usually it has a trigger such as an allergen, and that it was not diagnosed in children this young.
In July we had Pertusis(Whooping Cough)
That was fun. Turtle-Love and I were both up to date on that particular vaccine (we had recently decided to stop vaccinating) and we both got it anyways. I'm sure it wasn't as bad as it could have been, then again his coughs are always terrifying. They caused some petechiae that was concerning, and he simultaneously had Hand Foot and Mouth, along with an ear infection. That was fun, having the Health Department call you and get all this information, etc. They also demanded that everyone in our household be medicated for it and supplied it for two of our members that do not have insurance. We were the only reported case in the county, as well as the ones surrounding.
Now we are dealing with Pneumonia
My husband took our son to the doctor last week for his cough. No other symptoms really but it was a bad cough, and on a couple occasions Turtle-Love had trouble catching his breath after words, which turned him purple and caused him sheer terror. The doctor said his lungs sounded perfectly clear, but to give him his inhaler three times a day for the next two days and if it didn't get better to come back. Pretty standard.
After two days the cough was virtually gone. We returned to giving him his inhaler only if he wheezed over the weekend. His cough got pretty bad at times, usually at night or after we passed a campfire. He also had a runny nose. As we were camping, I expected some allergies (I was having the same problem, so was my sister - though we had sneezes instead of coughs, poor kid had all three) but was a bit concerned at the severity of his cough. Sunday night, at home, he developed a low grade fever. Monday afternoon it was relatively high. We couldn't get in touch with anyone at his peds office so he went in yesterday morning. The doc he saw, which inspired this post, heard a severe crackle in his left lung. He was prescribed cefdinir twice daily for ten days, and his inhaler three times a day, as well as treatment for his fever.
I'm just irritated that the doctors we have been seeing aren't willing to offer any other information about this monthly occurrence. The idea that someone finds this normal is very shocking to me. Very few of my friends children that are of similar age face monthly bouts of coughing. In fact, none of them do. And I have a lot of friends with similar aged children. Surely if this was normal at least one of them would? I know that his prematurity gives him an extra risk factor. I'm most upset that no one is willing to give us ideas to the cause of these coughs. If it is a virus, where are we picking it up? Is there something we can do to limit the risk of him contracting it again and again? If there is, and I'm certain there is something we could do, none of his doctors are offering it.
I think I'm ready for a second opinion on the issue. By which I mean from a different practice entirely.
March For Babies 2012
Monday, February 27, 2012
It's that time of year again!
As you all know, my son who I refer to here on my blog as Turtle-Love was born 5 weeks premature, and spent almost 2 weeks in the NICU receiving treatments. I touched on this briefly in my post about breastfeeding - Our breast feeding journey thus far.
Last year I started a team, in my son's honor, to March for Babies. We are team Little Tiny Love. The March of Dimes hosts the March for Babies each year, in multiple locations nation wide. The March for Babies raises funds and awareness for issues surrounding and causing premature birth, infant death, and birth defects.
Click here for a closer view
Last year our walking team included myself, my younger sister, and both of our best friends. My best friend even brought her son to keep Turtle-Love company! Together we raised over $500! This year - we are hoping to raise even more.
Between now and our walk on April 29th, I'll be campaigning to raise money to donate in our teams name for this years walk. I'll be posting Turtle-Love's birth story, NICU story, and more during this time. Use the neat little badge I added off to the right(up top) to donate or sign up to join our walking team.
Thank you all in advance!
♥
As you all know, my son who I refer to here on my blog as Turtle-Love was born 5 weeks premature, and spent almost 2 weeks in the NICU receiving treatments. I touched on this briefly in my post about breastfeeding - Our breast feeding journey thus far.
Last year I started a team, in my son's honor, to March for Babies. We are team Little Tiny Love. The March of Dimes hosts the March for Babies each year, in multiple locations nation wide. The March for Babies raises funds and awareness for issues surrounding and causing premature birth, infant death, and birth defects.
Click here for a closer viewLast year our walking team included myself, my younger sister, and both of our best friends. My best friend even brought her son to keep Turtle-Love company! Together we raised over $500! This year - we are hoping to raise even more.
Between now and our walk on April 29th, I'll be campaigning to raise money to donate in our teams name for this years walk. I'll be posting Turtle-Love's birth story, NICU story, and more during this time. Use the neat little badge I added off to the right(up top) to donate or sign up to join our walking team.
Thank you all in advance!
♥
Our breast feeding journey thus far
Tuesday, January 10, 2012
**NOTE: This post contains pictures of breast feeding.
Today we are celebrating 13 months of breastfeeding.
Ugh, rewind please. I thought your son turned 13 months old on the 5th?
Oh. Right. Well, We weren't able to breastfeed until day 5. So, today we celebrate.
Before I ever even considered the thought of pregnancy, I knew I would breast feed. My mother breast fed, her mother breast fed, breast feeding was the way to go. Of course babies drank out of bottles and had formula sometimes, but I would breastfeed.
In April 2010 we found out we were pregnant with our surprise baby. I started reading and researching and doing everything I could to educate my self on as much as possible. All of this made me more determined to breast feed. I would be successful, because my mother was, and her mother was, and
When Turtle-Love was born, at 35 weeks 3 days gestation, I was too busy contracting and wondering if my baby was going to be okay to even think about when we could start breast feeding. We got to spend about a minute with him after his birth when he hiccuped and his color changed. I notified the nurse immediately, they had thought we would get 30 minutes with him before he needed to go to the nursery, but that didn't happen. They rushed him off to help him breathe. Little Turtle-Love was under an oxy-hood in the nursery for that day and the next, and was then transported to the NICU at another hospital and placed on a CPAP.
What does any of that have to do with breastfeeding? For us, everything.
Since Turtle-Love couldn't really breathe on his own efficiently and without serious effort and strain on his body, he obviously couldn't nurse. They waited a whole day to see if he would be able to go to breast, which he couldn't, before deciding I should be pumping. I was provided a hospital grade pump on loan at the hospital, which was replaced later that day by the one WIC gave me. The lactation consultant I met with at our birthing hospital was great - and I left there feeling good about pumping. She was impressed I was expressing so quickly, and because my milk "sprayed". I felt like I would be the milk producing champ I had always thought I would be, like my mother. (To this day I bet she could express milk, and her children are in their 20's!)
I spent 4 days exclusively pumping, getting a few mLs here, and a couple mLs there. The lactation consultant had given me a syringe with a tube attached so I could suck up every little drop in the flanges etc. That stuff is liquid gold, you know. I was thankful the NICU had pumps there for me to use, so I only had to cart my horns and flanges and tubes and a sterilizing bag around, (only?!) and not the pump too (oh right, that thing is big and clunky!). They even had a mother's room with comfortable chairs, snacks, juice, and a TV. Every three hours, or as close to it as I could get, I spent 15-20 minutes holding my pump horns up to my breasts and pumping. I don't even know how long I spent after words washing, sterilizing, and drying all of the parts, labeling each syringe containing colostrum with Turtle-Love's personalized little medical stickers, and hand writing a date and time. It seemed like I would spend a whole hour in the pumping room, between setting up, pumping, and cleaning up. Sometimes it actually took longer. It was awkward to be pumping in front of other women at times, and I didn't know what to expect. I would see other moms come in to pump. Some NICU mommas, some nurses with babies at home. Everyone was there for the same purpose, doing the same thing.
One mother I met in the mother's room was pumping for her daughter, who was now 3 months old(if I remember correctly) and still in the NICU. She had been born very early, and her twin sister had not survived. My heart ached for her when she told me her story. She was in pumping for her daughter as often as I was for my son. She regularly pumped 4+ ounces at a time! She told me she had an entire freezer full of milk at home, and that her storage space at the NICU was always completely full. We had bonded a bit, and it felt good. It felt good to have someone there in the same place who understood what it was like. I had such high hopes of being able to pump like her.
I was feeling okay about it though. That is, until I found out the hospital was giving him formula.
He was still unable to go to breast, so all the milk I was pumping was being given to him through an NG tube. They were giving him a specific amount of milk every three hours and I noticed after coming back from dinner one time that there was evidence of him receiving formula. I was crushed. I was mad, hurt, upset, and felt betrayed. I had just spoken with a lactation consultant the night before, who was also his nurse. She had given him a label that said he loved mother's milk - their way of noting that he should be exclusively breast milk fed. So why did someone give him formula?! I was ready to lay into whoever did this to my baby! I was furious! I confronted a nurse about it, nicely, and her response was that I wasn't making enough. I had just enough left for his feedings the last time I checked, and I had turned in more. Maybe not exactly enough, but they had it! Why didn't he get it?!
Because they upped his feeding amount. They increased how much they wanted him to be getting, and because there wasn't enough breast milk they mixed it with formula. Bring on the tears.
From that point all of his NG tube feedings were part breast milk, and part formula. However, I was finally allowed to put him to breast! I was so excited, the moment had finally come! Not only was my baby getting better, but he was getting better to the point hecould actually eat!
What if he still couldn't breathe well enough to eat at the same time?
What if he choked?
What if he didn't know how?
What if I didn't know how?
With the supervision of Turtle-Love's nurse, who was also a lactation consultant, and the support of Turtle-Love's other nurse, Toad, and my sister, I put him to breast. It took a moment, but he latched! And well!
We started breastfeeding at every feeding we were there for the next day. We had trouble with him snuggling up and falling asleep after a few good moments of nursing. I would feed him, and cuddle him, and hand him off to Daddy for cuddles. Then I would pump, wash, sterilize, dry. Every three hours I spent two hours nursing and pumping. At his midnight weigh in though, he had lost weight.
What? How did this happen? I was immediately told I was not producing enough and that we needed to give him bottles. Bottles? What about nipple confusion? What about him being exclusively breast fed? I thought we were doing so well! Everyone seemed so pleased with our progress, what happened?
I put my foot down. I wanted him exclusively breastfed.
They made arrangements for us to stay the night with him, now that he wasn't on any machines or oxygen, we could stay with him. We could stay in the family suite in the NICU so that I could continue to breast feed through the night. I was so relieved, and yet terrified.
We were going to spend the night with our son for the very first time.
We did well nursing through the night. I thought he was doing a great job latching - but I had never been able to feel let down, or feel milk come out, I could only feel him suckling. He was a very content little boy, hanging out with Mommy all night and the next day.
At his next weigh in he had gained weight, but they still weren't happy. We were told we had to give him a bottle after every nursing session because I wasn't pumping enough they said I wasn't making enough milk - so be it formula or breast milk he had to get something after every feed, in a bottle.
Even with pumping after every nursing session, I had only pumped enough milk to make two supplements. The lactation consultants didn't see anything wrong with how I was pumping, or how he was nursing. Everything seemed fine - it just wasn't enough.
If we exclusively breastfed, he could lose weight or not gain and he couldn't come home until he gained more weight.
Our choices were to leave him in the NICU longer, while we waited for my milk to hopefully come in and for him to start gaining, or to give him the supplements and help him gain faster so he could come home.
We chose the supplements. I wanted my baby home. Coming home meant he was okay, really and truly okay. My thought had been, we would supplement at the hospital like they wanted, but once we got home and he was doing well we would just breast feed. The next night our son graduated from the NICU, and we brought him home.
I continued to nurse him every three hours like we had been, once we got home. However, We were sleeping 5-6 hours at night. I also continued pumping after each session, and putting the milk into the freezer. Most of the time I was still able to collect it in syringes, and in the mornings I would pump one side while he fed the other and went back to sleep which gave me just enough to be too much for a 10 mL syringe most days, and a little more than that on occasion.
His weight check reveled that he wasn't gaining enough weight in their opinion, so we were back to supplementing. One ounce after each day time nursing session. I hated it. I was furious and didn't think it was necessary. Gaining was gaining! But I didn't want to not give him the supplement and for him to not grow.
I quickly ran out of breast milk and gave in to giving him half formula for the supplements, he had already gotten the formula in the hospital so it just didn't seem to matter as much anymore. I was too exhausted to be bothered with pumping after every session anymore. It was too much work to nurse, pump, label, store, wash, sterilize. By the time I was done with all that, assuming my son allowed me to do much of anything, it seemed like it was time to nurse again. I couldn't bring myself to do it. I wasn't getting anything after he ate, what was the point? All that work for no pay off, I wanted to enjoy my baby. Where was my blissful motherhood?
So I continued to pump just in the mornings. His supplements became more and more formula, and less and less breast milk.
Turtle-Love had been nursing every 90 minutes, if not sooner, and continued to do so. I was told he nursed too often, and to space him out. How was I supposed to do that? If he was hungry, I put him to breast. End of story. I was supposed to skip a nursing session? But that would mean my supply could go down because it wasn't being demanded... This was the opposite of the advice I had received elsewhere which was to let him nurse on demand. What was I supposed to do?
I even bought a digital scale. I would weigh him before and after most feeds. I even did it before and after his supplements - to prove it worked. The issue became I couldn't account for his output. If he peed while he was nursing, the weight comparison would be off and I didn't have the brain power at the time to calculate for absorption or to Google whether or not a diaper would weigh specifically the amount output more, or if there was some type of exchange. The math and the attempt to keep records of every weigh in before and after every feed got to me, and I stopped obsessing. Well, I stopped doing it every day. The numbers were proving nothing in either direction - only causing me frustration.
After a couple months of this, we were finally able to stop supplements. The day our pediatrician was happy with his weight gain was a fantastic one. I felt so relieved. I could relax. I didn't need to stress, and weigh, and worry, and count. His pediatrician was content with his growth rate, he was small and grew a little slower but very steadily.
I returned to work at my office (I had been working from home)around that same time. I was unable to pump what he needed while I was at work. I was only getting between 1 and 2 ounces at a time, every 2 hours - I only work 6 hour days. Turtle-Love was eating 4 ounces two, sometimes three times while I was at work. He nursed both sides in the mornings and all through the night so pumping in the morning wasn't an option anymore, if I wanted to get anything from it. Turtle-Love had to continue to receive formula bottles on the days I didn't have enough breast milk at home for him. Which was more often than not.
I spoke with the lactation consultant at the pediatricians office. She recommended I pump less often. Every three hours, instead of every two. It sounded far fetched, but I tried it.
I finally figured out I had to pump for 30 minutes not 15 and I had to pump every 3-4 hours not every 2 in order to get a decent volume.
I was only able to pump once or twice at work, getting around 5 ounces for the day. My son had started eating 5 ounces per bottle, two or three times while I was gone.
I just accepted it. It was hard to swallow - but I was tired of fighting my body. I was tired of worrying, of counting, measuring, stressing. We were breastfeeding. If I was home, he was breastfed. That had to be good enough, because that was all that I could do.
Eventually we fell into a routine. Breast milk bottle in the morning after I leave for work (he wakes up 10 minutes after I leave, no matter what time I leave) and I would pump an hour after arriving. If it was a day I took him to the sitter (or brought the sitter to him) when my mom left for work, I would nurse him before heading back. He would usually take a bottle before I made it home, and I'm so very lucky that my sitter(and friend) is amazing. Sometimes Turtle-Love takes 2 bottles before I get home, but others If I didn't need to take him to the sitter (or the sitter to him) because Daddy was home, or one of his aunt's were visiting - of course I would stay at work and pump.
I need to mention how much I love my job. They have been so supportive of my adventure into motherhood - I was able to work from home until Turtle-Love was 6 months old. Then my office mate was kind enough to let me pump at my desk =) Much love to you! Of course, she is a very unique person - not the slightest bit squeamish, never bothered about me pumping or feeding at work. She pretty much rocks anyways. I've even been lucky enough to be able to bring Turtle-Love in to the office if needed. In fact, his pack n play (all though rarely used) has a special spot in our office. Of course there is also the fact that everyone who works here likes his little smiling face and high spirit =)
The hospital grade double electric pump I was provided through WIC had to be returned at his one year appointment. I haven't pumped in a whole month. On the one hand it feels great to be rid of that beast. On the other, my boobs really hurt by the time I get off. Especially if I didn't get to see him mid day.
Turtle-Love still breastfeeds. As a matter of fact, he is quite in love with 'the boobie' and any excuse to latch. I'm very happy we are continuing to breastfeed, and I have enjoyed almost every moment of almost every feeding(I don't know of anyone who enjoys being bitten when teeth come in - yeeouch!). I feel that we will be continuing to nurse for at least a few more months, maybe longer - I'll continue to nurse him until he weans himself. He does still take a bottle of formula in the morning, and sometimes in the afternoon with the sitter as well. He does eat 'real food' and has breakfast, lunch, dinner, and snacks as well. We will probably wean him off of the formula this month, now that he is a year old, as well as a year adjusted.
An adjusted age is used when a baby is born prematurely. The adjusted age date is your due date. When you have a child born prematurely their birthdate is their real age of course. However, many doctors will use their adjusted age when looking at growth and development because preemies have to continue to develop outside the womb. So while Turtle-Love is now 13 months old, when we look at his height/weight/growth/development we are comparing to 12 month olds, because he was born a month early. I hope that isn't too confusing!
So - has breast feeding gone successfully? Well, yes.
I feel like so much emphasis is put on exclusively breast feeding. At least, the articles and blogs I come across are geared this way. Exclusively breastfeeding is great! However, it took me a long, long, long time to accept that I was doing the best I could. That I am doing the best I can.
I also love that my son has been able to teach me just a little bit about expectations, and what I can do with them =) However, I'll subscribe to hope, any and pretty much every day.
Now you can scroll through a couple more pictures from the past 13 months of us breastfeeding. Including at the March of Dimes March for Babies, while out for ice cream, and at our wedding!
Today we are celebrating 13 months of breastfeeding.
Ugh, rewind please. I thought your son turned 13 months old on the 5th?
Oh. Right. Well, We weren't able to breastfeed until day 5. So, today we celebrate.
Hooray!
Before I ever even considered the thought of pregnancy, I knew I would breast feed. My mother breast fed, her mother breast fed, breast feeding was the way to go. Of course babies drank out of bottles and had formula sometimes, but I would breastfeed.
In April 2010 we found out we were pregnant with our surprise baby. I started reading and researching and doing everything I could to educate my self on as much as possible. All of this made me more determined to breast feed. I would be successful, because my mother was, and her mother was, and
I had no reason to believe I wouldn't be able to exclusively breastfeed.
I also had no reason to believe I would deliver my child, 5 weeks premature.
When Turtle-Love was born, at 35 weeks 3 days gestation, I was too busy contracting and wondering if my baby was going to be okay to even think about when we could start breast feeding. We got to spend about a minute with him after his birth when he hiccuped and his color changed. I notified the nurse immediately, they had thought we would get 30 minutes with him before he needed to go to the nursery, but that didn't happen. They rushed him off to help him breathe. Little Turtle-Love was under an oxy-hood in the nursery for that day and the next, and was then transported to the NICU at another hospital and placed on a CPAP.
What does any of that have to do with breastfeeding? For us, everything.
Since Turtle-Love couldn't really breathe on his own efficiently and without serious effort and strain on his body, he obviously couldn't nurse. They waited a whole day to see if he would be able to go to breast, which he couldn't, before deciding I should be pumping. I was provided a hospital grade pump on loan at the hospital, which was replaced later that day by the one WIC gave me. The lactation consultant I met with at our birthing hospital was great - and I left there feeling good about pumping. She was impressed I was expressing so quickly, and because my milk "sprayed". I felt like I would be the milk producing champ I had always thought I would be, like my mother. (To this day I bet she could express milk, and her children are in their 20's!)
I spent 4 days exclusively pumping, getting a few mLs here, and a couple mLs there. The lactation consultant had given me a syringe with a tube attached so I could suck up every little drop in the flanges etc. That stuff is liquid gold, you know. I was thankful the NICU had pumps there for me to use, so I only had to cart my horns and flanges and tubes and a sterilizing bag around, (only?!) and not the pump too (oh right, that thing is big and clunky!). They even had a mother's room with comfortable chairs, snacks, juice, and a TV. Every three hours, or as close to it as I could get, I spent 15-20 minutes holding my pump horns up to my breasts and pumping. I don't even know how long I spent after words washing, sterilizing, and drying all of the parts, labeling each syringe containing colostrum with Turtle-Love's personalized little medical stickers, and hand writing a date and time. It seemed like I would spend a whole hour in the pumping room, between setting up, pumping, and cleaning up. Sometimes it actually took longer. It was awkward to be pumping in front of other women at times, and I didn't know what to expect. I would see other moms come in to pump. Some NICU mommas, some nurses with babies at home. Everyone was there for the same purpose, doing the same thing.
And everyone was expressing more milk than I knew could be made.
One mother I met in the mother's room was pumping for her daughter, who was now 3 months old(if I remember correctly) and still in the NICU. She had been born very early, and her twin sister had not survived. My heart ached for her when she told me her story. She was in pumping for her daughter as often as I was for my son. She regularly pumped 4+ ounces at a time! She told me she had an entire freezer full of milk at home, and that her storage space at the NICU was always completely full. We had bonded a bit, and it felt good. It felt good to have someone there in the same place who understood what it was like. I had such high hopes of being able to pump like her.
Like all the other moms I saw pumping.
The mom's who produced 4+ ounces while I struggled to slurp up 10 and 20 mL with my syringe.
I was feeling okay about it though. That is, until I found out the hospital was giving him formula.
He was still unable to go to breast, so all the milk I was pumping was being given to him through an NG tube. They were giving him a specific amount of milk every three hours and I noticed after coming back from dinner one time that there was evidence of him receiving formula. I was crushed. I was mad, hurt, upset, and felt betrayed. I had just spoken with a lactation consultant the night before, who was also his nurse. She had given him a label that said he loved mother's milk - their way of noting that he should be exclusively breast milk fed. So why did someone give him formula?! I was ready to lay into whoever did this to my baby! I was furious! I confronted a nurse about it, nicely, and her response was that I wasn't making enough. I had just enough left for his feedings the last time I checked, and I had turned in more. Maybe not exactly enough, but they had it! Why didn't he get it?!
Because they upped his feeding amount. They increased how much they wanted him to be getting, and because there wasn't enough breast milk they mixed it with formula. Bring on the tears.
Not only did I feel like a failure because I birthed my baby too soon, but because on top of that I couldn't feed him.
I could not make what they wanted for him. I didn't understand why they needed to increase his feedings, every day. They wanted to stretch his little tummy out! That sounded just horrible. I hate feeling overfull, I could only imagine how my poor child felt as I watched them check to see if he had digested his last feeding, only half, and continued to push a full feeding in on top anyways. I was sick with grief, and frustration, and the feeling of not being able to save my baby from this awful policy that made no sense to me. My body was designed to produce what he needed, why wasn't it enough?!How could I be such a horrible mother?
From that point all of his NG tube feedings were part breast milk, and part formula. However, I was finally allowed to put him to breast! I was so excited, the moment had finally come! Not only was my baby getting better, but he was getting better to the point hecould actually eat!
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| Preparing to breast feed for the first time |
I was terrified.
I always had a pang of fear each time I held my son. He was connected to so many things. Electrodes, monitors, his CPAP machine, and two umbilical IV lines. Time and time again I had been told to be so careful of them, because if they tore out the risk of him bleeding out and dying was very severe. Thankfully they had been removed, but that didn't stop me from being terrified.What if he still couldn't breathe well enough to eat at the same time?
What if he choked?
What if he didn't know how?
What if I didn't know how?
With the supervision of Turtle-Love's nurse, who was also a lactation consultant, and the support of Turtle-Love's other nurse, Toad, and my sister, I put him to breast. It took a moment, but he latched! And well!
It was so sweet to finally get to feed my son, they way I had always known I would!
The lactation consultant was so pleased with our form, and they way we fit perfectly together and how good his latch was, she called the other two consultants and told them they needed to see this.I felt relieved, so relieved and happy. Finally, I felt like I was doing something right as his mother!
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| The long awaited moment |
We started breastfeeding at every feeding we were there for the next day. We had trouble with him snuggling up and falling asleep after a few good moments of nursing. I would feed him, and cuddle him, and hand him off to Daddy for cuddles. Then I would pump, wash, sterilize, dry. Every three hours I spent two hours nursing and pumping. At his midnight weigh in though, he had lost weight.
What? How did this happen? I was immediately told I was not producing enough and that we needed to give him bottles. Bottles? What about nipple confusion? What about him being exclusively breast fed? I thought we were doing so well! Everyone seemed so pleased with our progress, what happened?
I put my foot down. I wanted him exclusively breastfed.
They made arrangements for us to stay the night with him, now that he wasn't on any machines or oxygen, we could stay with him. We could stay in the family suite in the NICU so that I could continue to breast feed through the night. I was so relieved, and yet terrified.
We were going to spend the night with our son for the very first time.
We did well nursing through the night. I thought he was doing a great job latching - but I had never been able to feel let down, or feel milk come out, I could only feel him suckling. He was a very content little boy, hanging out with Mommy all night and the next day.
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| Turtle-Love's first bottle |
Even with pumping after every nursing session, I had only pumped enough milk to make two supplements. The lactation consultants didn't see anything wrong with how I was pumping, or how he was nursing. Everything seemed fine - it just wasn't enough.
If we exclusively breastfed, he could lose weight or not gain and he couldn't come home until he gained more weight.
Our choices were to leave him in the NICU longer, while we waited for my milk to hopefully come in and for him to start gaining, or to give him the supplements and help him gain faster so he could come home.
We chose the supplements. I wanted my baby home. Coming home meant he was okay, really and truly okay. My thought had been, we would supplement at the hospital like they wanted, but once we got home and he was doing well we would just breast feed. The next night our son graduated from the NICU, and we brought him home.
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| After bath time |
His weight check reveled that he wasn't gaining enough weight in their opinion, so we were back to supplementing. One ounce after each day time nursing session. I hated it. I was furious and didn't think it was necessary. Gaining was gaining! But I didn't want to not give him the supplement and for him to not grow.
I quickly ran out of breast milk and gave in to giving him half formula for the supplements, he had already gotten the formula in the hospital so it just didn't seem to matter as much anymore. I was too exhausted to be bothered with pumping after every session anymore. It was too much work to nurse, pump, label, store, wash, sterilize. By the time I was done with all that, assuming my son allowed me to do much of anything, it seemed like it was time to nurse again. I couldn't bring myself to do it. I wasn't getting anything after he ate, what was the point? All that work for no pay off, I wanted to enjoy my baby. Where was my blissful motherhood?
So I continued to pump just in the mornings. His supplements became more and more formula, and less and less breast milk.
Nothing was ever good enough.
I felt like the people closest to me were undermining me. Giving my son bottles every chance they had. I felt like everyone tried to 'fatten up' my perfect little baby. I constantly felt like what I could provide him wasn't good enough, that I wasn't good enough. But I never gave up. I didn't let it keep me down. The lactation consultant I spoke with, the doctors I talked to, my family members... no one believed I was, or could, produce enough milk for my son. I was it. I was the only person in my corner.I was practically willing my supply to be there.
To be enough. I hoped, and I hoped, and I hoped.I even bought a digital scale. I would weigh him before and after most feeds. I even did it before and after his supplements - to prove it worked. The issue became I couldn't account for his output. If he peed while he was nursing, the weight comparison would be off and I didn't have the brain power at the time to calculate for absorption or to Google whether or not a diaper would weigh specifically the amount output more, or if there was some type of exchange. The math and the attempt to keep records of every weigh in before and after every feed got to me, and I stopped obsessing. Well, I stopped doing it every day. The numbers were proving nothing in either direction - only causing me frustration.
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| Nursing to sleep |
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| At the office with Mommy =) |
Where were my magically flowing milk ducts?
Why wasn't I pumping 4+ ounces at a time?
I spoke with the lactation consultant at the pediatricians office. She recommended I pump less often. Every three hours, instead of every two. It sounded far fetched, but I tried it.
I was no milk spewing fountain, but I found what worked.
I finally figured out I had to pump for 30 minutes not 15 and I had to pump every 3-4 hours not every 2 in order to get a decent volume.
I was finally pumping almost 4 ounces.
I was almost like the milk goddesses I had seen.
The trouble is - almost only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades.I was only able to pump once or twice at work, getting around 5 ounces for the day. My son had started eating 5 ounces per bottle, two or three times while I was gone.
I just accepted it. It was hard to swallow - but I was tired of fighting my body. I was tired of worrying, of counting, measuring, stressing. We were breastfeeding. If I was home, he was breastfed. That had to be good enough, because that was all that I could do.
I had to learn to let that be good enough.
Eventually we fell into a routine. Breast milk bottle in the morning after I leave for work (he wakes up 10 minutes after I leave, no matter what time I leave) and I would pump an hour after arriving. If it was a day I took him to the sitter (or brought the sitter to him) when my mom left for work, I would nurse him before heading back. He would usually take a bottle before I made it home, and I'm so very lucky that my sitter(and friend) is amazing. Sometimes Turtle-Love takes 2 bottles before I get home, but others If I didn't need to take him to the sitter (or the sitter to him) because Daddy was home, or one of his aunt's were visiting - of course I would stay at work and pump.
I need to mention how much I love my job. They have been so supportive of my adventure into motherhood - I was able to work from home until Turtle-Love was 6 months old. Then my office mate was kind enough to let me pump at my desk =) Much love to you! Of course, she is a very unique person - not the slightest bit squeamish, never bothered about me pumping or feeding at work. She pretty much rocks anyways. I've even been lucky enough to be able to bring Turtle-Love in to the office if needed. In fact, his pack n play (all though rarely used) has a special spot in our office. Of course there is also the fact that everyone who works here likes his little smiling face and high spirit =)
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| All smiles |
The hospital grade double electric pump I was provided through WIC had to be returned at his one year appointment. I haven't pumped in a whole month. On the one hand it feels great to be rid of that beast. On the other, my boobs really hurt by the time I get off. Especially if I didn't get to see him mid day.
Turtle-Love still breastfeeds. As a matter of fact, he is quite in love with 'the boobie' and any excuse to latch. I'm very happy we are continuing to breastfeed, and I have enjoyed almost every moment of almost every feeding(I don't know of anyone who enjoys being bitten when teeth come in - yeeouch!). I feel that we will be continuing to nurse for at least a few more months, maybe longer - I'll continue to nurse him until he weans himself. He does still take a bottle of formula in the morning, and sometimes in the afternoon with the sitter as well. He does eat 'real food' and has breakfast, lunch, dinner, and snacks as well. We will probably wean him off of the formula this month, now that he is a year old, as well as a year adjusted.
An adjusted age is used when a baby is born prematurely. The adjusted age date is your due date. When you have a child born prematurely their birthdate is their real age of course. However, many doctors will use their adjusted age when looking at growth and development because preemies have to continue to develop outside the womb. So while Turtle-Love is now 13 months old, when we look at his height/weight/growth/development we are comparing to 12 month olds, because he was born a month early. I hope that isn't too confusing!
So - has breast feeding gone successfully? Well, yes.
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| Climbing 'Mount Boobie' before bed |
I feel like so much emphasis is put on exclusively breast feeding. At least, the articles and blogs I come across are geared this way. Exclusively breastfeeding is great! However, it took me a long, long, long time to accept that I was doing the best I could. That I am doing the best I can.
That we have and are continuing to successfully breast feed.
We have been able to breast feed, even if not exclusively, for thirteen whole months. I find this to be a wonderful accomplishment and I am very happy to say that I no longer feel guilty, or like a failure, because I could not produce enough.I can and do produce enough. Enough to help. Enough to make a difference. Enough to give him as much as I can.
I also love that my son has been able to teach me just a little bit about expectations, and what I can do with them =) However, I'll subscribe to hope, any and pretty much every day.
Now you can scroll through a couple more pictures from the past 13 months of us breastfeeding. Including at the March of Dimes March for Babies, while out for ice cream, and at our wedding!
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| Strolling around town eating ice cream (and a milk shake?) |
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| Walking through downtown while nursing during the March for Babies |
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| Yes, that is the ceiling. Because he likes to push me over and walk around my head. While nursing. |
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| 'The boobie dance' |
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| Nursing break during our wedding |
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| Yes, we are nursing while in my wedding gown at my wedding (Yes, I and all my bridesmaids wore Chuck Taylors) |
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| Nursing at the office just before the holidays |
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| Trying out for the Nursing Olympics: Lap Exercises |
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| While writing some of this blog post |
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About Me
- Call me Pea
- Virginia, United States
- I'm 26 - I've been married for a little over a year now, and a mother to a wonderful little boy! He was born 5 weeks early, and maybe small - but he is doing big things! I'm also currently PREGNANT! We are expecting a girl this May. Change is welcome in our life, and here we can share how we embrace it.
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