Gave birth to my son, Ozan Sarp, on September 10th 1:12 in the morning after ~12 hours of labor. It was hard, painful, emotional, terrifying, yet extremely satisfying and felt like the biggest accomplishment in the world.
Here's my labor and delivery story, skip if you're not in the mood for the biggest baddest and uncut female TMI ever and possible future trauma.
( Follow me in here...Collapse )I don't remember the pain and suffering so vividly, but the moment my baby came out, the rush of that unbeliveable serenity is something I never want to forget. I felt like I was in heaven somehow. All the pain and worry had stopped, my son was on my lap, the doctor and nurses were doing something, I didn't know and I didn't care. My sweet baby was crying, my husband was sobbing by my side, and I was the calmest, happiest, most relaxed person on earth at that moment. I was finally done, I had done it.
Later I learned and saw from the photos, everyone in my family was sobbing with delight.
--Little lunch break. Had to carry the portable crib to the kitchen since Ozan didn't want to be left alone. He's back to napping, I'm back to writing. 13:38 now.--I was deemed a hero, giving birth to a baby weighing 4 kg and 300 grams with a height of 53 cm and a pretty big head. I had one goal when I insisted on having a vaginal delivery: fast recovery with no complications. I accomplished that. I gave birth on Saturday morning at 1 am, came home Sunday afternoon and I was up and at it with virtually no pain and very little discomfort.
I had a few stitches down there, but I didn't have any problems sitting, standing and having #1 and #2 in the toilet. Everything was A-Okay. My one month appointment was last month and I got the "you're back to your old self, everything's back in its place" okay from my doctor. *two thumbs up*
I knew I wouldn't be able to handle the "baby blues" on top of a c-section, so I wanted to suffer during labor and delivery and handle the matters of my mind without the stress of physical recovery.
First 2 weeks back home was so bad. Soooo bad. I was constantly tired, sad, worried, angry and/or crying. My mom and dad stayed with us during that time and my in-laws were helpful as well. We almost had a fight with my husband because I was so anxious and depressed at the same time. Then we had the talk and once I accepted the fact that my life is different now and it'll get better every single day, I was out of that black hole. I still have very bad days, but mostly I'm okay and I'm building my own comfortable routine with the kid. He is still alive and well after all. I got this.
Sleep deprivation is no joke. I'm almost 2 months into this things and I am just getting used to functioning on 1 to 2 hour chunks of sleep at night. Sometimes I'm not even that lucky. That age old advice "sleep while the baby sleeps" is 100% bullshit. I live my life when the baby sleeps. What I mean by living my life is I shower, I eat, I talk to other adults and sometimes even watch actual stuff I want! I'm still worried about going out with the baby mostly because it's flu season and I honestly don't want to breastfeed in public. I will have to do it at some point, but right now we're happy at home. I'm slowly building my new routine at home and at some point outside world will fit in there somewhere. We go outside for short periods to visit my in-laws. The live 2 apartment buildings away down the street, so it's no big deal, I don't evet use the stroller for the trip.
I have to admit though, I miss the outside world. Weather looks great today, but it's cold and we both have some sort of sniffles for 10 days now. I can handle the cold, but I'm not sure how the baby will do. He's going have the first main chunk of his shots next week and I'm expecting fever and lots of fussiness, I don't want to add another round of cold to that whole debacle.
I digress.
Sleep deprivation is bad, but breastfeeding or I should say "learning to breastfeed" is worse. His latch was so bad when we were at the hospital that I had blisters on my nipples. I cried and sometimes screamed from pain because he was trying to get the milk out and my nipples were so sore that I couldn't even stand 1 minute to let him have a drop. So here comes the formula and bottle and cue my insecurities about not being able to breastfeed and basically poison my kid with formula.
Oh god, the drama. Thinking back now I was completely crazy. I was too hard on myself. I was so focused on being able to breastfeed that I didn't give myself enough time to heal and didn't see the overlaying problem at hand: clogged milk ducts. Fuck. That. Shit. To. Hell.
Unclogging those ducts with hot water and massages were so painful that I count it as my second birthing experience. After the first round of clogged ducts I vow to never let myself go and pump if I can't properly breastfeed.
Once I got rid of the clogged ducts my baby started properly breastfeeding. It was glorious.
Then it was boring...
Then it was sooooo boring that I'm still looking for ways to breastfeed without sitting up. I tried laying down with the baby on top and on my side with the baby laying beside me, but he was very uncomfortable and couldn't get enough milk that way, so back to the traditional sitting up and cradling position.
Our breastfeeding game is going strong everyday.
--Another nursing break is needed. He woke up and he has gas, I need to help him fart/poop now. Oh the joy of baby bowel movements! It's 14:38--Okay, I'm back, 15:20, but I'm tired and don't want to write anymore. I'll probably come back and give another update at some point, but for now, life with a kid is hard, but the love I feel everyday is unique and I have never felt like I could give my life for another living being before, now I know. Everything your mother told you about understanding once you become a mother is 100% true.