Maybe no one else cares, but I feel the need to share my story in light of all the publicity breastfeeding (and the debate surrounding it) has gotten the last few days.
I had to be induced at 37 weeks 1 day due to dangerously high blood pressure. (I saw it at 206/198 but my OB wouldn't tell me what it was at it's peak.) I wasn't given encouraged to bf before my daughter she was taken away, nor was I warned they were going to take her away for an extended time and I needed to take the opportunity. It was 5-6 hours after birth before they brought her to me initiate bf (while my family went to dinner) after they had already given her sugar water. I couldn't her to latch on and asked for an LC. The hospital had one peds nurse who was also an IBCLC and several "trained" nurses. Almost 2 hours later a nurse came in, positioned my baby, and walked out without saying a word. I still had no idea what she had done differently. I thought I had the hang of it and did alright the first 2 days. The second night a nurse came in and took my daughter. My husband was asleep so the nurse didn't say anything, but they did weight checks late at night so I didn't think much of it. But they didn't bring her back until after 8am. I never knew why. I stayed up all night worrying about where my baby was and when they would bring her back and whether they were giving her formula. But I was too scared to speak up for myself and too uninformed to know how much harm that could do to our breastfeeding relationship.
We were both released on Saturday despite Emma's "minor" jaundice. She had to be re-admitted Sunday. After a couple of hours she had a very small amount of blood in her diaper and the on call ped told the nurse to do xrays which showed no problems and still insisted I quit nursing (they did provide me with a pump but no help) and told me not to pick her up (to maximize time under the billirubin lights) and suggested a pacifier to soothe her. I felt helpless and heartbroken so I agreed.
She gained weight slowly- in little bursts averaging .5 oz/day as opposed to the "normal" 1 oz/day. My ped threatened to diagnose my daughter with failure to thrive which is automatically investigated as a possible case of child abuse/neglect if she didn't gain an "acceptable" amount of weight in THREE DAYS and then gave her a sample bottle in the office and sent me home with more. I had been "asked" to supplement her twice before but was literally afraid someone would take my baby away. If I had known then what I know now, I would have gotten a second opinion from another office (Well third really- I saw 2 peds in the same office but they stuck together like glue.), but I didn't.
Not long after that, I gave up. Temporarily. There is no chapter of LLL here, and we were going through some very hard times financially so I couldn't call on LC (and didn't have much faith in them after the hospital). A wonderful friend encouraged me not to give up (thanks Melissa!) so I spent my days reading everything I could on breastfeeding. In the meantime, our health insurance situation changed and Emma was now on Medicaid. And we had to change doctors. Shucks. It took research, time, tears, effort, and lots of prayer but I got her off of formula. (And boy did the WIC office look at me like I was crazy when I didn't want formula anymore but wanted to go to the exclusive breastfeeding package!) I worked hard to breastfeed my daughter, and I can empathize with women who have struggled and given up- I was there too- but I am now throwing myself into lactivism wholeheartedly. Not everyone was in a situation like mine where they have the time to find and try for themselves what someone should be there to show them.
If you agree, support a breastfeeding mom. Tell her you think she's doing a great job. Tell her you know it's hard. Ask her if she needs anything.Support a mom who tried. Tell her she did her best. Give her a hug. Ask her if she needs anything. Accept that the vast majority of parents do what's best for their kids to the best of their knowledge and ability and feel free to share information but don't judge. The arguing, fighting, back-biting,name calling, etc. only hurt breastfeeding and women in general.
Showing posts with label my story. Show all posts
Showing posts with label my story. Show all posts
Thursday, April 8, 2010
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
An unfortunate ending
After much deliberation, prayer, and not a few tears I have decided to give up breastfeeding Emma. I have been on Reglan but my milk supply continues to lessen rather than increase. I can no longer feed her enough even at one setting, having to supplement after she has eaten all that she can and can't even do that every feeding. I wish I could continue but feel it is best for her nutriotion, after all the problems she has had, to bottle-feed instead. I can no longer get out any milk while pumping, so she will be strictly formula-fed from now on. I'm disappointed as I had hoped to have her back to strictly the breast after she caught up in weight gain, but I just can't keep up with what she needs, and I want to make sure she gets what she needs. On a brighter note, she is still gaining weight at more than twice the expected rate and the doctor is pleased. She is on track to be caught up by her 4 month check up!
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
Birth Story continued... and hospital re-admission
Well, Emma was released from the hospital Saturday (July 4th) morning, and my doctor came in not too long after that and said that I needed blood pressure meds that he would have the pharmacy send up. I thought we would be leaving any time, but we waited and waited and waited for them and then waited for the nurse to take my IV out. They finally released me and Jason and the nurse wrestled with the car seat for a long time while I stood there with Emma. It was about 100 degrees in the shade, so we were all tired and hot. The car seat still wasn't in correctly, but the nurse pretty much shoved us out the "door" and told us it was fine. We fixed when we stopped to getgas and then went to Walgreens to get my bp meds.
We were going to go out for sushi but had gotten plants at the hospital, and they would have been wilted and dead before we even sat down, much less ate, in that weather. So we settled for drive-thru Taco Bell and headed home. We went to Jason's cousin Michael's house for dinner and then came home to bed. Emma went to church for the first time at 3 days old and then over to Granny BB's for lunch. Then we had to return to the hospital for a quick blood draw to test her billirubin and Joe Paul came with us to drive Jason's car back. (I still wasn't allowed to drive but I had driven myself to the hospital for my non-stress test and Jason had driven his car there and we didn't have enough drivers for both cars when it was time to leave.)
Jason and Joe Paul worked some more on the a/c while Emma and I sat in front of a window to soak up some sun. The doctor called and said Emma needed to be re-admitted for photo-therapy, so Jason and I packed up and headed back.
The first night was heart-breaking. We could only take her out of the little basinet long enough for me to nurse her, and she was not used to be left completely alone and (she thought) ignored while she cried. And then the doctor told me to quit nursing and they put her on an IV (she was dehydrated) so we couldn't get her out at all. I think I cried as much as she did that first night. The next morning (Monday)a different doctor was on call and told me to resume nursing, although she didn't eat well for the remainder of our stay (I was told the IVs will diminish a baby's appetite) and she got a little more skin to skin contact and cuddling again. It was still hard on her. Jason and I talked to her and sang to her almost constantly. The second night I rolled the basinet over to my hospital bed which I raised all the way up and let her hold on to my finger, but the basinet was still a little higher than the bed and my shoulder was killing me the next day(Tuesday). But the good news is that her billirubin was getting progressively lower and she was allowed to come home. Jason had to return to work, so Brenda came to pick us up and bring us home. It was a long and exhasuting first few days.
We were going to go out for sushi but had gotten plants at the hospital, and they would have been wilted and dead before we even sat down, much less ate, in that weather. So we settled for drive-thru Taco Bell and headed home. We went to Jason's cousin Michael's house for dinner and then came home to bed. Emma went to church for the first time at 3 days old and then over to Granny BB's for lunch. Then we had to return to the hospital for a quick blood draw to test her billirubin and Joe Paul came with us to drive Jason's car back. (I still wasn't allowed to drive but I had driven myself to the hospital for my non-stress test and Jason had driven his car there and we didn't have enough drivers for both cars when it was time to leave.)
Jason and Joe Paul worked some more on the a/c while Emma and I sat in front of a window to soak up some sun. The doctor called and said Emma needed to be re-admitted for photo-therapy, so Jason and I packed up and headed back.
The first night was heart-breaking. We could only take her out of the little basinet long enough for me to nurse her, and she was not used to be left completely alone and (she thought) ignored while she cried. And then the doctor told me to quit nursing and they put her on an IV (she was dehydrated) so we couldn't get her out at all. I think I cried as much as she did that first night. The next morning (Monday)a different doctor was on call and told me to resume nursing, although she didn't eat well for the remainder of our stay (I was told the IVs will diminish a baby's appetite) and she got a little more skin to skin contact and cuddling again. It was still hard on her. Jason and I talked to her and sang to her almost constantly. The second night I rolled the basinet over to my hospital bed which I raised all the way up and let her hold on to my finger, but the basinet was still a little higher than the bed and my shoulder was killing me the next day(Tuesday). But the good news is that her billirubin was getting progressively lower and she was allowed to come home. Jason had to return to work, so Brenda came to pick us up and bring us home. It was a long and exhasuting first few days.
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
Birth Story
I finally feel as though I've slept enough to be able to write coherently, so here goes!
I went in for a non-stress test on July 1st (Wednesday) at about 10:45 am (and had just finished a little snack- I would have eaten more if I had any way to know it would be 52 hours before I could eat again!) at Southwestern Medical Center in Lawton. I couldn't see the monitor from where I was laying, but apparently my blood pressure was appalling because my doctor came in and said I wouldn't be leaving. Now the thought had crossed my mind before I left that I should finish packing and throw the suitcase in the car "just in case" but I dismissed the idea, thinking that even if my test results were bad I would be put on bed rest, not induced. Well, I had to call Jason and give him a list of things to pack for me when he got home from the office. I put him in charge of calling his mom, who would call the rest of that side of the family for us and then sent out a mass text message and called my mom (who stubbornly refuses to participate in texting). They put me in a Labor & Delivery room and set me up on an IV of magnesium sulfate to help with my bp and then turned out all the lights and told me I couldn't have any unnecessary stimulation. Sigh. So I sat there bored and trying to think nice, low blood pressure thoughts until Jason finally got there. At that point my bp was 191/106 and they told him if he made my blood pressure go up at all, they would kick him out. I didn't say anything because it wasn't an issue yet, but kicking my husband out of the room was a great way to spike my bp even more! At that point Jason took over all texting and talking and I was only allowed to just sit there. We tried to do some relaxation that he had the mp3 for on his phone but couldn't find the file for the good one. The one he had was hard to do if you are stuck on an uncomfortable hospital bed with an IV, blood pressure cuff, heart monitors, and a catheter. But people started arriving about the time we gave up on it anyway. The hospital allowed people to peek in and say hi but then shooed them to the waiting room to avoid that "unnecessary stimulation." My blood pressure continued to be horrendous during this whole time despite the fact that I was fairly calm. Dr. Jones came back in at about 6:00pm and ordered blood pressure meds (I don't remember what kind) IV ever 20 minutes and said that if it wasn't down by 8:00 he was going to do a C-section.
It finally went down right at about 8:00 (it was still high at 7:45), so I was started on cervidil and told to get some sleep (hahaha) but they finally let visitors in so I got to see my family a little bit. My mom stayed and watched part of Madagascar 2 with Jason and I but left in the middle to go to the hotel because she was tired. Jason dozed on and off but left his cpap in the car so didn't get well-rested even when he did sleep. I napped here and there, but I had people coming in to check various things on me and my machines and draw blood all night long. They started the pitocin drip at 7:15 am and broke my water (at a 1.5cm) at around 8:30 am. That was, by the way, the most painful experience of my entire life. I have broken bones, and it didn't hurt half that bad. I sliced my ankle open to the bone, requiring 3 layers totaling 33 stitches, and it didn't hold a candle to this. After that, I threw the no-meds plan out the window. I told them if breaking my water hurt that bad, then I wanted an epidural. They said they would get one for me when I was at a 4 and would check in a couple of hours to see if I was ready yet. My labor progessed very quickly after that, with contractions quickly becoming more and more intense and closer and closer together. Every time somone walked in the room, my mom would beg them to check me and see if I was at a 4 yet. They reassurred her that I was fine, saying that not only was I not full-term but they had to break my water and put me on pitocin, all of which make for a longer labor. An hour and 45 minutes after breaking my water, they finally checked me. The nurse said she thought I was at a 6 and seemed rather incredulous that I would have progessed so quickly so she went to get another nurse to check. Not 5minutes later when the second nurse came in I was at a 7. They called the anethesiologist to come upstairs. He didn't take long to get there, but by that point I was at a 10 and trying not to push because I was determined to have an epidural by that point. I know that the worst was over at that point, but I was sleep-deprived and in pain and the power of reason could not win over the promis I had made to myself 2 hours earlier that I could have an epidural and then it wouldn't be so bad. :)
As soon as I had the epidural I started pushing. At first this went fine, but it took over an hour to get her past my pelvic bone. Dr. Jones had just said if I couldn't get her past it in the next couple of pushes, he was going to do a C-section. At some point they put me on oxygen. Apparently this is because Emma's heart rate was dropping but I didn't realize that at the time. I thought maybe it was because I was running out of energy and they thought that might help. It's probably best I never knew until afterwards that she was in danger because I'm sure my panic/increased heart rate/increased blood pressure wouldn't have helped at all. I finally got her out and we discoverd part of the problem was the umbilical cord had been wrapped around her- not around her neck so she wasn't endangered by it at all but it was pulling her back after every push which is why I couldn't get her past the pelvic bone.
As they stitched me up from the episotomy (and her tearing me a little past that), they cleaned Emma up. She, of course, was screaming and crying like all babies do at that point. Jason walked over there and started talking to her and she immidiately quit crying and looked right at him. It was the coolest thing ever! They let Jason hold her until they were done with me and then he brought her to me and I got to hold her for a while- longer than I expected- and friends and family got to parade in a few at a time to see her before they took her to the nursery to evaluate her. She was in the nursery for several hours before they brought her back for me to feed her. While we had her, she choked on something- mucous? amniotic fluid? saliva? We're not really sure but her little lips turned a little blue and gave us all a scare. They took her back to the nursery to clear her airways and after I fed her, we sent her back to the nursery for the night because neither of us had slept well and we were afraid we might sleep through it if she choked again.
The next day (Friday) they took out my IV and finally let me eat. It was after lunch time (52 hours remember?) and I was starving. They brought a tray, but my mom went to Chilis to get me good food, so I just snacked on it enought to hold me over until mom got back. They finally let me get up to go to the bathroom (with 2 nurses to help me- they are awefully careful when you've been in bed that long) and change into my clothes instead of a hospital gown sometime shortly before 4:00 and while they halped me, my mom, Jason, and my sister Kylie got all of our stuff moved into the post-partum room where we stayed the rest of that day and until we were released Saturday.
This is getting to be a very long post and Emma needs a new diaper, so the story of being released, our first night at home, and going back to the hospital will have to wait for another time. :)
I went in for a non-stress test on July 1st (Wednesday) at about 10:45 am (and had just finished a little snack- I would have eaten more if I had any way to know it would be 52 hours before I could eat again!) at Southwestern Medical Center in Lawton. I couldn't see the monitor from where I was laying, but apparently my blood pressure was appalling because my doctor came in and said I wouldn't be leaving. Now the thought had crossed my mind before I left that I should finish packing and throw the suitcase in the car "just in case" but I dismissed the idea, thinking that even if my test results were bad I would be put on bed rest, not induced. Well, I had to call Jason and give him a list of things to pack for me when he got home from the office. I put him in charge of calling his mom, who would call the rest of that side of the family for us and then sent out a mass text message and called my mom (who stubbornly refuses to participate in texting). They put me in a Labor & Delivery room and set me up on an IV of magnesium sulfate to help with my bp and then turned out all the lights and told me I couldn't have any unnecessary stimulation. Sigh. So I sat there bored and trying to think nice, low blood pressure thoughts until Jason finally got there. At that point my bp was 191/106 and they told him if he made my blood pressure go up at all, they would kick him out. I didn't say anything because it wasn't an issue yet, but kicking my husband out of the room was a great way to spike my bp even more! At that point Jason took over all texting and talking and I was only allowed to just sit there. We tried to do some relaxation that he had the mp3 for on his phone but couldn't find the file for the good one. The one he had was hard to do if you are stuck on an uncomfortable hospital bed with an IV, blood pressure cuff, heart monitors, and a catheter. But people started arriving about the time we gave up on it anyway. The hospital allowed people to peek in and say hi but then shooed them to the waiting room to avoid that "unnecessary stimulation." My blood pressure continued to be horrendous during this whole time despite the fact that I was fairly calm. Dr. Jones came back in at about 6:00pm and ordered blood pressure meds (I don't remember what kind) IV ever 20 minutes and said that if it wasn't down by 8:00 he was going to do a C-section.
It finally went down right at about 8:00 (it was still high at 7:45), so I was started on cervidil and told to get some sleep (hahaha) but they finally let visitors in so I got to see my family a little bit. My mom stayed and watched part of Madagascar 2 with Jason and I but left in the middle to go to the hotel because she was tired. Jason dozed on and off but left his cpap in the car so didn't get well-rested even when he did sleep. I napped here and there, but I had people coming in to check various things on me and my machines and draw blood all night long. They started the pitocin drip at 7:15 am and broke my water (at a 1.5cm) at around 8:30 am. That was, by the way, the most painful experience of my entire life. I have broken bones, and it didn't hurt half that bad. I sliced my ankle open to the bone, requiring 3 layers totaling 33 stitches, and it didn't hold a candle to this. After that, I threw the no-meds plan out the window. I told them if breaking my water hurt that bad, then I wanted an epidural. They said they would get one for me when I was at a 4 and would check in a couple of hours to see if I was ready yet. My labor progessed very quickly after that, with contractions quickly becoming more and more intense and closer and closer together. Every time somone walked in the room, my mom would beg them to check me and see if I was at a 4 yet. They reassurred her that I was fine, saying that not only was I not full-term but they had to break my water and put me on pitocin, all of which make for a longer labor. An hour and 45 minutes after breaking my water, they finally checked me. The nurse said she thought I was at a 6 and seemed rather incredulous that I would have progessed so quickly so she went to get another nurse to check. Not 5minutes later when the second nurse came in I was at a 7. They called the anethesiologist to come upstairs. He didn't take long to get there, but by that point I was at a 10 and trying not to push because I was determined to have an epidural by that point. I know that the worst was over at that point, but I was sleep-deprived and in pain and the power of reason could not win over the promis I had made to myself 2 hours earlier that I could have an epidural and then it wouldn't be so bad. :)
As soon as I had the epidural I started pushing. At first this went fine, but it took over an hour to get her past my pelvic bone. Dr. Jones had just said if I couldn't get her past it in the next couple of pushes, he was going to do a C-section. At some point they put me on oxygen. Apparently this is because Emma's heart rate was dropping but I didn't realize that at the time. I thought maybe it was because I was running out of energy and they thought that might help. It's probably best I never knew until afterwards that she was in danger because I'm sure my panic/increased heart rate/increased blood pressure wouldn't have helped at all. I finally got her out and we discoverd part of the problem was the umbilical cord had been wrapped around her- not around her neck so she wasn't endangered by it at all but it was pulling her back after every push which is why I couldn't get her past the pelvic bone.
As they stitched me up from the episotomy (and her tearing me a little past that), they cleaned Emma up. She, of course, was screaming and crying like all babies do at that point. Jason walked over there and started talking to her and she immidiately quit crying and looked right at him. It was the coolest thing ever! They let Jason hold her until they were done with me and then he brought her to me and I got to hold her for a while- longer than I expected- and friends and family got to parade in a few at a time to see her before they took her to the nursery to evaluate her. She was in the nursery for several hours before they brought her back for me to feed her. While we had her, she choked on something- mucous? amniotic fluid? saliva? We're not really sure but her little lips turned a little blue and gave us all a scare. They took her back to the nursery to clear her airways and after I fed her, we sent her back to the nursery for the night because neither of us had slept well and we were afraid we might sleep through it if she choked again.
The next day (Friday) they took out my IV and finally let me eat. It was after lunch time (52 hours remember?) and I was starving. They brought a tray, but my mom went to Chilis to get me good food, so I just snacked on it enought to hold me over until mom got back. They finally let me get up to go to the bathroom (with 2 nurses to help me- they are awefully careful when you've been in bed that long) and change into my clothes instead of a hospital gown sometime shortly before 4:00 and while they halped me, my mom, Jason, and my sister Kylie got all of our stuff moved into the post-partum room where we stayed the rest of that day and until we were released Saturday.
This is getting to be a very long post and Emma needs a new diaper, so the story of being released, our first night at home, and going back to the hospital will have to wait for another time. :)
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