A Wright Mess

On the 17th, at 9days overdue, I had my “omg you’re STILL pregnant” appointment. We went through all the normal stuff and I asked if she could do a s&s and check if I was dilated at all as I’d been having contractions on and off all day (and for the last few WEEKS).

I was shocked when she said I was a good 3-4cms and she could stretch me to almost 5.

Afterwards Jon and I went to the shops (Mum was watching the boys) and got easter presents for the boys and a few bits and bobs I needed.

We walked the stairs and enjoyed at laugh after a father of one beautiful little toddler joked that “this was what we had to look forward to”, his face when we said this was number three still makes me giggle, more so his face after swearing he would only have one and Jon joked “that’s what I said!” That was priceless.

We came home and Mum left and we went about the afternoon like normal, the boys played outside, dinner, bath and then bed.

My contractions were not very strong at that stage but after a few hours they got more painful but as with  Braydan they were not regular.

Around 11pm Mum came around and soon after we left for the hospital. I once again made the rather silly choice to walk with Jon from car. A good few contraction later we got there.

I was checked and hooked up to monitors. I was still only 3-4cms. My contractions were still not regular but were getting a lot more painful.

At this point I was worried about her position. The midwives had problems working out much apart from head and butt. To me it had felt for months that her head was to the side of my pelvis and her shoulder was hooked in the pelvic bone.

I knew she hadn’t dropped or engaged. I wasn’t having the pressure and had not felt her move down. I had hoped she would be able to correct this as I dilated further.

After being on the monitors and then pacing for couple of hours I was moved to, as I call it, the wait to wait room for the night. I was still only 3-4cms.

I’d say around 1am or maybe closer to 2, I lost track of time, I was checked again, after much pacing, I was still only about a 4. The midwife felt that as my contractions were getting a lot more painful that I would probably hit a point and dilate fast to 10, which sounded oh so pleasant (not), so she sent us to the birthing suite.

I felt uneasy, at first I thought it was because of the male med student I had agreed could be there, but I think I more blamed him for it because I didn’t want to accept that I knew something was about to go wrong.

I put on my head phones and listened to some music on my phone, I was trying to refocus and get through the contractions, which were by far the worst I have ever had. Not even Ethan’s (who was 9.7 with a head that made up half of that I am sure) birth, which was induced and then rapid, was as painful as these. And they didn’t feel.. normal for lack of a better word. They were getting to the stage were I was now humming and mentally swearing like my father, but still no pressure she still wasn’t moving down.

I remember I needed to pee but the mere thought of moving or asking someone to help me go was just to painful to think about. I would regret this later.

I had been standing next to the bed with the gym ball on the bed for me to lean on when I had a contraction, but I now moved on to the bed and lent over the gym ball. My legs were tried after hours of standing and pacing.

I had a really bad contraction, I believe I swore out loud after that one.
I was bracing myself for the next one, when I felt my water break and then I felt her suddenly drop into the birth canal, it felt like a bowling ball was ramming down and the contraction hit, lasting over a minute… a minute from hell. I screamed. I legit screamed at the top of my lungs.
Which I believe freaked Jon out as the midwives and med student had wandered out leaving him alone with me, who went from seemingly coping well to screaming like a demon. And I refused to let him leave and he couldn’t free himself from my probably close to death grip.

Just as the contraction from hell was ending the midwives came rushing in.. clearly I was heard.
They seemed shocked that I was being so loud, seeing as other than a hum I had made no noise. The head midwife even commented that I threw her off as I’d been so “calm”

They had to get me to turn so I could lean against the head of the bed. They also had to remove my pants… my awesome comfy pants that were now covered in water… I also regret not changing out of them.

After being turned and de-pants (new word?), they informed me that she had had a bowel movement. I wasn’t to worried, Ethan had also had one. But knowing the risk it isn’t something you want to hear.

At this stage I was having trouble dealing with the pain. I could feel her head moving down, something I barely felt with the boys but she was in some funky position and it was making it unbearable. Also it felt like my hips were tearing apart, and with my deformed hip sockets this was insanely painful.

I was in the same position I had been with Braydan, kneeling and leaning against the head of the bed.
Pushing felt useless, I could feel her head, which felt like a ball, a giant painful ball from hells gates trying to exit my body.

After what felt like forever pushing with seemingly no end in site the midwife said
“Shoulders”.
I watch a lot of birth shows, and read a lot about birth so I understood what she meant.
Her shoulders were stuck.

The room changed, it was still calm but it went from, ‘take your time its fine’, to ‘she needs to come NOW’
One midwife hit a red button and more midwives came in.
Another placed my leg up to open my pelvis more and reach up to pull her shoulders out as I pushed. I dont even remember of that hurt. It amazing how you can go from feeling everything to nothing in a short space of time.

3:18am
She wasnt crying. I counted in my head.
1-2-3-5-6-7-8-9-10-11-12-13–
She finally wailed as they were about to take her over to give her air.
She was okay. Everything was fine now. I could see her over on the table. I wanted my baby and I wanted everyone to leave (apart from Jon)

But they weren’t. They were poking and pushing. Commenting on how much I was bleeding. Being a heavy bleeder I was not worried. But they were.

I had an IV placed in both arms. I hand 2 doctors ‘manually’ remove blood clots, which sounds as lovely as you would think. One doctor was mad at me and caused me to move up the bed during one of these removals.
They wanted to take me to the OR for a d&c I refused.

I wanted them to bugger off. In between trying to nurse and bond with my daughter, I was harassed and talked down to.
They believed due to both the trauma or her birth and my bladder being full, it was causing me to hemorrhage.
I said I can get up and empty my bladder ( I had a feeling this would solve the problem). No. They wanted to cath me. I ended up being given a bed pan… charming.
I was given an ultrasound and after my bladder was emptied my uterus contracted and the bleeding slowed. The doctors left, rather annoyed that I had been right.

1.2lts of blood and 4/5 hrs later we were on the ward.
We had some quite time, after I was on the ward I had one visit from a midwife and a nurse who abused me but was pretty much left alone.
Mum and the boys visited and later Adam, Karen and their girls did also.

Poor Ethan, who is a quite mummy’s boy, was not handling me not being home. Both boys were very in love with Amelia Marie. And pretty much focused on her

The day felt very surreal, I could have lost my daughter, it is something that sticks with you.  So finally, almost 6months later I have finished writing this.

AMELIA MARIE KATHLEEN

Weight : 8lbs 2oz’s.
Length: 54cms.
Head: 35cms.

Born 18/4/14 at 3:18am.

Labor

Amelia Marie!

Daddy hugs and the boys meeting Amelia Marie

this!

I will be moving to a new blog. This a blog about my reasons for this and why I feel the need to post about it.

I swore to myself, back when I thought there was hope of mending my relationship with my brother, that I would not bitch about them again publicly . But I feel the need to get everything out, due to the fact I will not be contacting them again. I have blocked their emails and deleted anyway I could reach them.

I tried to fix our relationship. But due to my brothers unwillingness to stop behaving like a toddler, I was unable to.
Fine, I am adult, whist I miss him and my niece, I can deal with it, I’ve dealt with it for years.

But what I cannot deal with is him willingly causing pain to my child.
My son got to see his cousin at my parents. We did not know they were going to be there when Jon’s took the boys to go pick something up from Dad, they rarely visit so it isnt normally a problem. But since then Ethan has been crying about missing her, as she misses him.
They talked about visiting each other and playing, she wanted to come and sleep over.
They love each other, deny it though they did/do, they MISS each other.

So be damned I tried again, I took me off the table, you dont have to deal with me I said, I know you hate me, Just please let them have a relationship.
No, was his reply, he is unwilling to forgive me for my sins, the sin of his name coming up in a convo with a family member. Something they themselves did/do regularly to both our family and her own family.
He tried to say he had thought of Ethan when he came to this decision, that this was better for him. My son, the nephew he willing cut out every few months, the boy he wouldnt even say hi to last time he saw him, the child he doesnt even know. The boy that is so much like my brother as a kid it scares me.

Last time we “fixed” our relationship, I was made to chose, my cousin or them. I cut out half of my family. I only talked to those deemed okay by them. Almost a year I talked to them and my parents. And still they cut us off twice during this time. Things that were of course solely our fault.
During that time everything I said was nit picked. How I parent, my desire to home birth, nothing was or is good enough. In order to have a relationship with them we must be perfect, but what they deem as perfect, which seems to be agreeing 110% with everything they say.

His jealously at my cousin’s and my relationship seems to cause a lot of problems, we are close, she is like a sister to me. I will never forgive myself for choosing someone before her even though she forgave me. Because she loves my boys, and she loves me, faults and all.
I am forever thankful that she stepped up where my brother stepped out, he QUIT being an uncle, he FORGOT about my boys, that isn’t love, that isn’t family, that is not how we were raised.
No one else in this family quits and throws a big arse tantrum because someone ticks them off.

You said my son should just “forget” about his cousin, he has another aunty, another uncle so, what?, he doesn’t need her?
That’s so wrong I cannot even begin to understand it.

Maybe I cannot understand it because I don’t use my child as a weapon? I don’t pull him away from people he loves and who love him simply because they ticked me off, I don’t let my ego run the show, I don’t need a power trip.

I was told I was blaming him for everything, and this time I do, it is 110% on him. I have tried time and time again to “fix” it, and he will not answer my calls, txts, refuses to see me, so yes this is him. He could fix it, he has the power, but he’s having an ego trip and keeping that inflated is more important to him then I.Even though I have proven my loyalty over the years, defended him, gone to hell and back for him. Destroyed my relationship with my father, threw my cousin to the the wolf’s, cut off half my family, sided with him in fights, gone to battle for him. Dragged his sorry arse to the hospital when he got stupid drunk, have always been there for him, always.
And in return, I get kicked to the sided, abused, ignored, yelled at, belittled, talked about, questioned, treated like scum, and finally, the last nail, my children get treated like they are worthless to him.

Well, your message is loud and clear my brother. You hate me, you do not love me, you do not wish to have me as your sister.
You do not love my children, you do not wish to be their uncle, and god that kills me.
They are beautiful, smart boys and you are missing out.
As much as it hurts, and it does it kills me more than you would know, or care about. I am done.
I could leave the door open when it was just me you were hurting. I have grown used to it, but I was stupidly hopeful that if I just waited long enough you’d pull your head out of your own arse.
But then, you willingly hurt Ethan, I only asked for him to be allowed to see his cousin, at his grandparents house without Jon or I, just them two. So they could see each other. But no, your ego or stupidity is too big to allow that. When I listened to my sons heart-break when I said he couldn’t see her, I hated you for a moment, and I hated myself for that.
But you caused him upset, YOU. His “UNCLE” someone who is MEANT to LOVE him. YOU.

But you don’t even know him, so how can I think you would.

Done.

Today I saw a pregnant women and almost broke down in tears. We were driving, she and her husband/bf/partner were power walking on the side walk.
It hit me suddenly, I truly did not think I would even be the type of person to get emotionally like that, I’ve gone through 4 other m/c’s and have dealt silently without losing it to much along the way.
But this time. I feel like a mess on the inside, I am sad, and angry and I feel broken, I was already battling depression, feeling like something was/is wrong with my body, and with family health problems, drama, and letting go of a someone close. And now, after this m/c I just feel like a wreck, and then I feel like a drama queen, like I don’t have the right to be sad over it, it was a super early loss, I have two healthy children.
Part of my brain is logical and saying, it was still a pregnancy, it is still a loss, be kind to yourself. The other half is telling me to suck it up and stop bitching.

I am not an emotional person, I am the person who has only cried once for the loss of my Grandma, the day we went to see her body, I cried for 20seconds at the nursing home. And apart from my mother and father she was the most important person in my life at the time, only her and my mother truly know me, and truly understand me. But I still refuse to have emotion for the loss, I refuse to cry.

So I am angry at myself for how I feel right now, I am angry that I am weak, that I am publically a mess.

I feel worn out, broken, I feel like my body has failed me again.
I am suffering another chemical pregnancy. I had a few light positive test, pregnancy signs etc. But for the second time since Bray was born, the lines didnt darken and the signs faded. I clung to the hope that maybe I was to early, dodgy test, my body was somehow hiding the hcg, but then my “period” turned up (13 days “late”). So now I am trying to deal with this.
I dont really want to talk to someone about how I feel, words seem to hard at the moment. So I am writing, hoping this helps with the sinking feeling I have.
I have had two m/cs, a missed m/c (I was in denial about it. I even went to work the day after, and was called lazy because I was in so much pain I could barely walk, thanks red rooster). And I have now had two chemicals.
Yes they are all losses and I have no clue why I break them into different groups. Its just how I have them “filed” in my head.

So much has been going on, Dads stuff, Mums health and all the birthdays. I am only now able to stop and realise that it was a loss. It was a could have been, that might be what hurts so much, the could have been. It could have been a little Ethan, with his non stop giggles, or a silent but cheeky Braydan, or something different but wonderful. But now its a ” I’ll never know”..

So. I am dealing. Just. I know the drill, Ive done this five times, and people keep telling me I am strong person, even though I feel far from it right now.

(((Warning this post will talk about breast, breastfeeding, and will show breastfeeding.)))

I went into breastfeeding with a pretty open mind, it really wasnt something I had strong feelings on. I had formula fed Ethan from the get go and that worked great. But I felt like I might as well give it a go, it was free!

And so it began.
I haven’t had many problems, my supply has always been fine, neither to much or to little. Braydan latched within the first 10minutes after birth and fed for a solid 30minutes and contined to latch fine, be it lazy for the first month or so.

Not to say it has been easy. Honestly the first 3-4 months were hell. He was, as I said, a lazy latch for the first month, he would latch shallow or his latch would slip, causing him to then latch on to the tip of the nipple.
I had blood blister, milk blisters, wounds, cracks, blood etc. Not pretty. I remember each feed I would shove my shirt into my mouth to stop myself from screaming aloud. He fed every 30minutes to an hour. Basically I was a cow, I had to learn to do everything with him latched, from cooking and cleaning, I could hang and fold washing with one hand, to playing with Ethan and even showering, shaving my legs whist nursing was a bit funny.

For the first few months we rarely went out, with him nursing so much he was either screaming for boob or trying to comfort himself with them.

Truthfully I will say if he would have taken a bottle I might have quit. But he would only fed from the tap, so I either had to deal with it or strave him, which clearly wasnt a choice.

After the 4month I rarely remember pain during latching. Which was a relief! Braydan was now feeding every 2-3hrs day and night so it was nice to not fear feeding.
Around this time I had my first round of mastitis, which kicked my arse. All up I have had mastitis 8times, from nov 2012-feb 2013 I had four cases alone.

I have found breastfeeding a toddler to be very draining health wise. I am normally the sort of person who gets sick easy, but it feels like its ten folds whist breastfeeding. I just feel quite run down, and I have heard this is pretty normal when feeding toddlers.

I also found peoples comments changed. When I chose to bottle fed Ethan, I heard everything from How sick he’d be (he hasnt been), to how I wouldnt beable to bond with him (wasnt an issue).
The midwives where I birthed him looked down their nose at me, I was young AND formula feeding *gasp*. “Breast is best, you should try” they would tsk at me.

Then I made the choice to breastfeed Bray. Suddenly I was amazing! Best mother ever, roll out the red carpet!!
I was made to feel like I was doing some god like thing by simply feeding my baby. Which I truthfully hated. I was the same mother as I was before, breastfeeding didn’t make me a better mother.

I remember I lied to the midwifes, I said I breastfed Ethan, not because I was ashamed of bottle feeding, no I simply didnt want them touching me to “help” with latching or have to listen to how I was meant to do it. And all of a sudden the toddler who had been called obese (he isnt and never was)was called a “solid, healthy boobie baby”…

Breastfeeding is demanding, painful and wearing. I sound highly negative, which is with odd with the fact I am still breastfeeding my 23month old, plan on letting him selfwean and will also breastfeed future children, but I feel that breastfeeding is so hyped up, the focus is on all the great benfits, be they truthful or not, and mothers go into it blindly, and blame themsevles when it gets rough. They are told it shouldn’t be painful, that they must be doing something wrong.
Yes some women are lucky, no pain, nice gaps in feds and no problems. Others hit wall after wall.
And others like myself get the reality of it.

Mothers should not feel guilt, nor blame themsevles if breastfeeding doesn’t work or if they simply do not wish to do it.
It is simply a method of feeding your child. It doesnt make you a better mother for chosing too.

And I will say it isn’t all negative, there is a lot of positives, there is a lot of joy.
There is something special about it. Words fail me here, so I will share my path through breastfeeding, newborn to toddler, the high points, in pictures.

(((Warning we are talking poop here)))

So Bray has this new thing he seems to be trying out, Im calling it, Awkward Poop.
If I am out, somewhere with out a change room, he poops.
No nappy? He poops.

It is fricking awesome… yesterday it was at Grandma’s.
Today we went for a nice walk, and to the park and while at the park he pooped. Luckily I learnt my lesson yesterday and have started packing a bag again.
But the park has no change room or toilets…
I have never been so grateful for an emtpy park. I am also grateful that Ive dealt with two active boys who I have had to learn to change with them standing, in 30seconds flat (or risk chasing a pooopy butt).
So I didnt even need to fully depants him and was able to use the hidey bit and the pram as cover so no one could see.

So apart from that it was a great morning park trip! A walk, park and a treat from the shops.

I must say I have missed walking, after not being able to do the park trips/long walks for about 3-4month due to my hip, it is really nice to be able to again and with little to no pain. Im reallly hoping my hip stays good! I just have to remember to rest it and not push it to hard to fast.
Plus the boys have missed super active Mummy!!

Now some cute pictures to make up for  the poop

So I am totally wiped out lately. I dont know why but I could easily go to sleep when Braydan does, which is 8ish, and sleep all night. But I cant because theres stuff the needs doing… but it would be nice.
I feel like I am kinda making myself stay up because I just dont want to be tired… my logic is awesome.

So today we braved the walk to the corner store, I say brave because they are rebuilding the nursing home next to it (5 or so stories high from two stories high it is insane), and also doing what Im guessing is pipe work at the two parks right next to there. Which makes it annoying to walk through, you can now only walk on one side of the road, the street is full with trucks and workers and I really just find it annoying. So Ive been avoiding it. I cannot wait till they are done, or at least till the parks are back to normal again.

So we walked to the little corner store, Ethan was telling me all about the “house” the trucks were making and how they werent as good as our home, he really likes our home.

Then we walked around to Grandma and Grandads, I was sweating buckets because I had stupidly wore jeans and a light weight jacket… and it was 28 and sunny and we were walking for a bit!
So we got there and I died (tad dramatic), Ethan pulled out the train blocks Grandma had and Braydan did this…

Chatted to the photos of his cousins.

Also gave them kisses. He was doing that for a good 10minutes… till he pooped… and I hadnt bought any nappies (he is only potty trained/nappy free at home) so luckily Grandma had wipes… but he had to walk comando home lol

And that is the excitingness of our morning. The rest of the day was filled with trains, drawing, toys a nap for Bray and food… plus cleaning… endless cleaning

I am awake, but I shouldnt be. The boys are back into waking at 5:30am, so this will suck in the morning. But I cant sleep! I am so tired, I even fell asleep whist putting Braydan to sleep, but the second I try to actually sleep my brain is like “hey… murders… lets picture a break in! OR A FIRE!!”… My brain is a brat.

So I finally have a doctors appointment tomorrow to talk about getting the lump on my foot removed.. which I am not looking forward too, I want it gone but it is so big, and goes half way under my foot I know I will probably have problems with walking for a bit after. And I really need to walk! How do you chase two young kids around otherwise.

I am also not looking forward to it because of Bray. He is going through this rough patch with anixity. He cannot handle me being away from him. I had the denist and birthday shopping last week, neither of which he could come, he freaked. Just uncontrollable freak out. He was only calm whist I was holding him.
To do he freaked when Mum came over, because she came earlier then she normally does, he thought I was leaving him, full on freak out.
I am hoping it is just a phase, he’s been sick lately so Im hoping he’s just needing mummy more. But I was just a little older then him when my social/ anixity problems started. So Im a little worried, I hate seeing him get so upset. At least I have some understanding of how this works so I know what I would be dealing with.

Okay. Sleep.