Three Years Postpartum

It was Sunday, September 6th (My due date was October 13th): My contractions started at 11:15am. They were 10min apart to start. I had been experiencing pre-term labor since 23 weeks, so I wasn’t terribly alarmed. I chugged water, which had always stopped contractions in the past. Before I knew it, they were 5min apart. By 2:00pm they were 2 min apart and strong. I didn’t want to go back to the hospital and be sent home again so I resisted the idea. I had done everything I could think of and it wasn’t stopping. Mike donned his “World’s Best Dad” shirt with a picture of Darth Vader and double checked our bags.

When we got to labor and delivery they gave me IV fluids in an attempt to stop the contractions and said I was still "only a fingertip" dilated. My OB was down the hall, so she stopped in. She said she may have to do a Magnesium Salifate IV, but wanted to hold off for a bit (Thank God). Instead they kept giving me Procardia (my regular anti-contraction medicine), 3 doses on top of what I'd already had. By 4:30pm the OB said it was clear the labor was not stopping and we were going to have a baby today. Of course this occurred in the five minute window in which Mike was getting a soda so he thought I was kidding when he came back.

I had to get in line behind the other 34wk mom delivering down the hall so the NICU team would be ready and then the OB ran to another hospital to deliver a baby. It was about 6:30pm when they started prepping me for surgery. As they were wheeling me in I could feel tiny fists slamming against my belly. “Knock, knock Mommy! Let me out.” When I laid down on the operating table my water broke, it was time. Riley was born via C-section at 7:26pm she was 5lbs 6oz. She came out screaming! I knew she would.

The trio of new babies in my life inspired me to read over some of my pregnancy blog. I can't believe how long it's been! Here's Miss Roo fom birth to 3yrs:

Photo on the top right by Rebecca Brittain Photography

I truly have trouble grasping how much time has gone by. Since pregnancy, so much changed for me physically. I was tighter (who knew that was possible). So tight that my taut muscle began to bend my spine. The answer: Fusing the bones of my spine together with metal rods. No more scoliosis. However, I used to be able to comfortably put on and tie my own shoes. I used to walk without assistive devices. I used to carry my baby. Now? I have to wear shoes with no laces, use crutches and never lift anything or get down on the floor without careful consideration. It's not entirely fair to blame the back (although mostly it's the back) I also have fused ankles (from childhood and a bum hip (since collage). Things were easier with a bendy back just more painful, maybe?

Is it worth it? I hope that things improve physically, but I wasn't willing to risk being in too much pain to take care of my baby. I knew pregnancy was a one shot deal for me. I also knew there would be a price. I'm so grateful that I made it through with a healthy, beautiful, smart girl. I wouldn't do much differently if given the chance. I have certainly never regretted Riley.

All Those Babies

Remember what I said about when you aren't ever having anymore babies everyone around you picks up the slack? Here's your photographic proof. These are two of my four (that I know of) friends that are currently pregnant. I have two people in my life with new babies and countless friends I only connect with on social media having babies.

I went to my second baby shower this week today. It was in the party room of building on the beach. It was a beautiful view. I left Riley napping with Mike and went. There I was with a lovely view of the beach, in a room full of mommy friends and no kids. It was surreal. I couldn't help, but think how surreal it was to finish conversations and plates of food in peace. Not only that, but soon there would be twice as many kiddos running around when we get together. Whoa.

Sometimes I'm sad and jealous, but mostly I look at them and feel awash with relief. I don't know what would have happened if Riley didn't already have a sibling. I love what siblings do for each other, but I couldn't have done pregnancy twice. I am awe of my friend carrying their babies to term and taking care of potty training two year olds! Super. Heroes.

No More Monkeys

Babies are wonderful. They're soft and warm and new. Amazing little bundles with endless potential. I'm so grateful that I got to have one. I mean to grow one in my belly because whatever it cost me physically it was a beautiful experience.

After Riley was born I had 13 wonderful months of breastfeeding intimacy. The bond didn't melt away when I weaned her, but it was my first real lesson in how my relationship with her is always growing and changing. I have begun to try and break the habit of calling her baby. I have to consciously remind myself to say little girl now, because she is.

In all this time of me recovering and her growing I have been wistfully longing in the secret, irrational part of my heart for one more. I know very well that another pregnancy would quite literally kill me. I went into my pregnancy with my eyes wide open and a consent form for my tubal ligation in my fist.

I just kept waiting for the hormones and primitive drive to die down. In every quiet moment, in every one of Riley's smiles or every glance at a maternity photo I wished for another baby. I wished heartfelt congratulations to friends when they got pregnant again and then quietly cried. My body was not built for babies and no one rewired my brain to match. I am lucky to have two kids at home and someone to raise them with.

All this time I've been waiting for the secret sadness in those odd moments to finally fade away. Two years I've waited and writing this I am gripped with strong emotions even still. I don't want to cry anymore, though. I finally let out a long sigh of relief. Infancy is behind us and I am so happy for what I have. I do not want another baby.

Am I at peace with my body? Not entirely. Have I given up hope of adopting someday? Not on your life. Will I still get emotional when other people see two lines? Uh-huh. It's not all or nothing, but I've crossed the threshold of acceptance. I have two kids who can communicate verbally and use the toilet, things are good.

Which Box Did I Pack My Brain In?

Moving is a lot like being pregnant, at least for me. I never had swollen ankles pregnant, however and I've had them every day since we started moving. Other than that the similarities are endless. I'm tired, starving and grouchy all the time. I'm having weird dreams. I'm disheveled and self-conscious all the time. My memory's shot.

The other day I had my first contact with the legendary P next door. It was the morning after the first night we spent in the house on air mattresses/pack-n-play/sleeping bags. I was painting Isaac's room I had the window open and P climbed up on his fence and shouted to me "young lady your back lights have been since last night." Whoops. I'm batting a thousand on the first impressions with the neighbors front.

I also got a few things from the kitchen at the old house so I could make dinner early. I chose frozen ravioli because I had tomato sauce and all I had to do was boil them. It turns out I had neither a pot to boil water nor did I have the freaking sauce. Come on! I hand my hands on both things before I left the old house and managed to leave them. Grrr.

I continue to hit the wrong switches to turn on lights and fans. I made sure diapers and tampons came over I'm not completely in competent. I however manage to leave ALL the garbage cans until the end. Duh, maybe we need more than one. Also, double duh you can pack in them! I felt so dumb when I finally started loading things into the garbage cans and bring them over. They get unpacked a lot faster than boxes because they need to be used.

I had my Easter decorations up before we moved in, but until today I only had two days of my own clothes at the new house. Everyone else had their whole wardrobe by yesterday. It's a good thig we've had the washer and dryer have been hooked up the whole time.

Also, like pregnancy moving is hard work. You almost always want to quit before it's done in both cases. No amount of preparation makes the end any easier. In the end though even though you're glad it's over it was totally worth it.

Hormone Flux Capacitor

It's been a strange week. I've been dead on my feet, super sensitive to smells, unable to eat or starved and weepy. I know what you're thinking. I've been thinking about that too. My rational brain knows it couldn't be. I had my tubes tied when Riley was born (for good reason). Mike insists it's just my hormones regulating from weaning. I weaned 4mo ago. I'm not sure I buy that...Also, my feet are hot! Not room temperature, which would be weird enough for me, but hot. The only time I ever complained because my feet weren't their normal arctic temperature was when I was pregnant.

Yes, it would be incredibly medically risky and I came to peace with only having one pregnancy a long time ago. Or I thought I did. Maybe it's my friend's beautiful new baby or exporting my pregnancy blog, but my ovaries are aching. I keep thinking he could be wrong I could be pregnant. That primal feminine part of my brain starts to unwind at the thought. It's possible. It could be a boy and than I could use my boy name I picked out. If I were pregnant it would be a miracle. It would be "meant to be". I fantasize off and on for days. I calculate all the kids' age differences. I imagine squeezing a crib into "the boys room." Um, hello? 911! I'd like to report a runaway imagination aided and abetted by crazy hormones.

It would be devastating if I were to get pregnant again. That is why I had my tubes tied. I grew a baby the only time in my life it was possible and that didn't exactly go smoothly. I had a lot of painfully and not completely temporary bumps in road the first time. If it were to happen again it would unquestionably be life threatening. If I were to gain a significant amount of weight and fall with my fused spine it would be disastrous. I would have to be on strict bed rest the whole time and I barely made it out with my sanity the first time. This time there would be a 17mo old running around. It would be awful.

I am grateful for what I have. I have no question I did the right thing, but I am still a woman with a biological and psychological drive to have babies. Riley's amazing, I couldn't ask for more, but sometimes I do. Maybe not out loud or with any real hope of changing things, but I ask. I think this may be the first time my disability really got in the way of what I wanted. Not just taking away the decision to have more kids (which may not have been different),  but also forcing me to have two major surgeries during my baby's first year and taking away any hope of reclaiming the career I left behind no matter how old the kids get.

Stupid CP plus bus injuries plus pregnancy strain plus deterioration from age! I have never blamed my disability/physical condition for anything, but I'm afraid having a baby gave me reason to be angry. I know it is not in my hands. I will simply make other choices and adapt the best I can. I will move forward, hopefully out of this hormone fog of emotions and baby obsession, and on with my life.

Maybe a part of it is not grieving properly for the loss of all those potential future babies. I didn't have time then, but maybe I can pencil it in now...

Two Pink Lines...

Today was the two year anniversary of my positive pregnancy test! I'll never forget it was Friday the 13th and the day before Valentines Day. It's overwhelming to think that will never happen again (and a bit of a relief). Seeing those two little lines was one of the most emotional moments of my life.

I couldn't handle it. Mike took the test for me. Here's the story and I have offically exported my pregnancy blog: Hedgehog in the Making, enjoy!

Baby Boom

When I was pregnant alot of other people I knew were too. They say every time the economy is bad there's a baby boom. I was happy to be pregnant and I've talked before about always knowing it would be my one and only time. I got the most perfect little girl. I couldn't have drawn better blueprints. She's amazing and I'm so happy to have her. I'm also glad given my situation medically that I got my tubes tied. All that being said is it just me or is everyone pregnant? My friends with babies Riley's age or younger all seem to have another bun in the oven. Not all of them where planned, but everyone's happy. It got to the point where I don't want to go online. I would never begrudge someone sharing their pregnancy with their loved ones (I certainly did), but it makes me so sad. I know that there's nothing rational to it. Even if I had a great pregnancy the first time I wouldn't be ready for another baby this soon and I already have 2 kids at home. Logic just doesn't enter into it. Typing this is emotional. It started out as a feeling that my baby was growing up and I missed the days when she was smaller, but that's not it anymore. I just envy the pregnancy. I want the belly, the kicks and all that potential. I want to take more belly pictures, decorate another nursery and dream up more names. Maybe I will have more kids some where down the line, but I know I will never be pregnant again. I know this with absolute certainty. I also know that it is unquestionably the right thing for me, but that doesn't mean it doesn't hurt. I'm sad for the belly that will never be.

One and Only

There are two areas of a woman's brain in play when it comes to babies: 1)The rational logistical part 2)The primal cave woman life-or-death need to reproduce.

Most girls in my generation have a similar story either they didn't want kids at all or didn't think they were ready yet. Then they had a "scare" which turns out be nothing but sparks up those cave woman instincts and they suddenly feel an overwhelming need that wasn't there before. I never thought I'd have kids. I knew I'd have a terrible time with pregnancy and I had a career that was just gaining momentum. I've always loved kids and spent most of my life taking care of other people's but I couldn't imagine having one of my own. I had the "scare" which after so many years of believing getting pregnant was the worst thing that could happen to me was completely earth shattering to realize I was sad more than I was relieved.

Things happened in their own time and looking back I'm amazed at my good fortune. I don't think I could have conceived and carried a baby at any other point in my life. When I went to my first OB appt I told them I wanted my tubes tied. They gave me the standard lecture about tubal regret, but I persisted. Mike asked me if I wanted to hold off "just in case" anything happened to the baby. I persisted. I survived preterm labor from 23wks-34wks and when they brought me the C-Section consent and had me re-sign consent for the tubal the doctor leaned in and whispered "you're doing the right thing."

My attitude always was that if I was meant to have a healthy baby I would and no matter what I was only doing this once. I'm not sure if this translates in writing so let me re-phrase I had complete faith that I would have the baby I was meant to and completely realistic ideas about what I could endure physically.

Now don't get me wrong it wasn't 8months of complete misery. I loved my big belly and feeling her kick. I still pour over my belly photos and get warm and fuzzy. I'm still a woman and tying the tubes doesn't short out the cave women need. I still get sad that it's over forever. I still wish my body could handle more pregnancies. I felt beautiful pregnant when I could forget or ignore the pain for a moment. I love Riley so much I feel like I could burst. I mourn all those potential little ones I could have made. I think about if Riley had been a little boy what little Maverick would have been like. I wish I could love dozens more babies and maybe I will, but not babies I gave birth to.

I think when you find perfection it's a good time to stop anyway.

Remember the Belly

So hard to imagine I was ever as big as that last picture (or as tiny as the first one for that matter!)