So I know at the end of my last post I said ‘to be continued’ but I’m not actually blogging my birth story. There’s plenty online though, if you google “hideous induction birth story” you are sure to find something just like it!
Still, this post contains words like NIPPLES and VAGINA so if those words make you feel uncomfortable stop reading now, if they make you giggle – read on!
A million photo quotes on instagram say that nothing worth having comes easy or ..a smooth sea never made a skilled sailor…er or good things happen to those who hustle. Hmm, maybe just the first quote is relevant.
Anyway on Friday at 7:43pm after a very long ‘hustle’ Angus James Fankhauser arrived weighing 2.820kg and laughing in the face of the lobstertrician who’d said he was small for dates. He didn’t actually laugh, and the obstetrician who said that wasn’t actually there…but you get my point. He’s a normal sized baby.
I was so shocked when the man said “it’s a boy!!” I couldn’t imagine having a boy as I only have a sister so I was sure it would be a girl!
The next few days were a blur of visitors, tears and cracked nipples. Angus was born with a tongue tie so was basically sawing my nipples when he fed.
He was fine, I was not. At all.
It was like there were x number of things I could cope with, sleep deprivation, leaving my modesty at home, barrage of visitors, crap food, milk coming in, hormones…but the pain of feeding was pushing me over my limit.
Most of the midwives were excellent except one who after I got back from the birth suite commented “wow, looking at your vagina is making my vagina sore”. Bedside manner fail.
Thankfully there were also wonderful midwives who despite being understaffed were so patient with me and answered all of my questions…unfortunately with conflicting answers most of the time. Still, they were very nice!
We did manage to find a doctor who snipped his tongue tie before we left. Phew. I had not realised how important breast feeding was to me, and I also now totally understand why so many women give up or don’t do it and I totally respect their choice either way! It can really hurt! I am still not sure how long I will breast feed for but things are getting better slowly.
Anyway on the Monday afternoon with a serious case of the dreaded third day blues I went home to a house full of in laws clamouring to hold him…I only just managed to keep my shit together in front of them but later when Mum came around to help out and Angus was either screaming his head off or projectile vomiting everywhere (apparently normal!!) I was a tad…overwhelmed.
Things didn’t get much better for the next two weeks, while the projectile vomiting stopped, the painful feeding continued and Angus decided that he didn’t like sleeping in his cot, or his bassinet in the pram, the crib our in laws bought him or the ergobaby. Angus only liked sleeping on people, particularly the man. He liked being held…all the freaking time. It was a nightmare.
So our days were a haze of lactation consultant appointments and some sessions at the parents and baby unit who were fantastic. Apparently although it feels like there is a piranha attached to me he’s a great feeder, I have an awesome supply and he is stacking on weight. We also learnt some settling techniques which have helped a lot.
Once I knew he was fine, that everything we were going through was normal I started to relax. I’ve also reduced my expectations. I expected to be able to get out and about more, to be taking my charming baby who slept out to coffees with friends everyday. That I’d be walking lots, doing lots of rehab ready to start running in a few weeks. Now if I have a shower, that is a good day and if I have time to have an instant coffee at home it is a great day! And running? It’s going to be awhile.
When I was at the child health nurse I had to do an Edinburgh depression scale test and one if the questions asked have you been so unhappy you have been crying. I couldn’t answer it, I have been crying…but I’m not at all unhappy, I don’t feel depressed…I AM JUST SO TIRED.
But the fog is starting to lift. While the sleep deprivation is still really hard, everything is a bit more manageable now. We are fast approaching the magical six week mark which everyone says is when it all gets better. We’ll see. I feel like I am coping a bit better everyday.
And you have to really!! I think it was that initial shock about the induction and the ever so slightly traumatic birth and the realisation nothing is ever going to be the same, was a bit much for my control freak nature to deal with. I have a friend who has twins and often at 3am when he’s being difficult I shake my head and think… WTF!!
And we are so so lucky that he’s a healthy baby. A girl I work with lost a newborn only a week or so after she was born, and I think about that often. We are incredibly lucky.
I am also lucky to have lots of support here. At the moment I’m at Mum and Dad’s while our renovations continue. It got a bit much dodging holes in the floor at 3am, being covered in plaster dust and trying to sleep through the noise of a drop saw. Angus was coping fine not needing a kitchen (he isn’t much of a cook) but I was over it!
Christmas is approaching and I expect things will go a bit nuts with visitors again and we will find it hard to keep him to any kind of routine, but again I’m expecting it. Of course with lots of visitors comes lots of fun and lots of people around to help.
I’m not sure how much blogging I’ll be able to do, today was a great day as he slept all afternoon leaving me free to do things like have a cup of tea with my Nan and write. We’ll see!
To all my friends and family who have sent presents, cooked us meals or done loads of washing – THANKYOU. I hope I can repay you sometime!!!
Here are some pics, check out the number of Angus sleeping on Dad photos!