Forgetting.

When I was driving home today, I was thinking about some music I'd like to hear. After a few minutes, I realized that I have an iPod, and it's in my car. I had completely forgotten this. I think I'd forgotten it for almost four weeks. What else have I forgotten?

On Monday, a coworker came into my office a few hours after seeing me in the hall. She said, "Are you okay? I got scared when I saw you. You looked more than tired. You looked fragile." 

Fragile does describe how I feel. I also feel insubstantial, uncertain, and a little bit threatened. On the way home, I saw a series of huge fir trees that seemed to be missing their back halves--branches, green, roots. I felt a connection with them. I seem to have lost half my essential energy, half my securities, half my ideas about what's important, half my brain power, half my normalcy.

The electricity went out briefly today, so my alarm clock has been blinking blue, and I haven't known the time. This has made me unusually uncomfortable. Work has a strong and unfamiliar smell now...something like pickles and pepper. I smell different too.

Josh and I were trying to nap, and I whispered, "I don't feel real." He asked what I meant, and I didn't know.

How much of this is postpartum changes, and how much is what happened? To what degree have I become a different person, and how long will I take to either go back or to become comfortable with the new self?

Maternity Fairy Clothes: Royal Ruffles.

This poor tank top is straining! I hope I didn't stretch it out too much.

This cardigan was an irresistible find with its fancy pirate ruffles and that lace on the cuff but not right at the hem. This is a feel-good piece of clothing.

These earrings aren't my usual style (I go for dangling more than big and round), but I like them!

A baby is in there!

Maternity Pants: Motherhood

Tank Top: Old Navy

Cardigan: Francesca's Collection

Earrings: Target

Flats: Shoe Show

Maternity Fairy Clothes: And Mend My Pockets for Me.

I'm glad I got another wear out of this fantastic maternity tank top!

This tiny pocket with a tiny rhinestone on the button makes me think of something Wendy would sew.

 

Oliver Sweet: coming soon!

Maternity Pants: Motherhood

Maternity Tank Top: Motherhood

Cardigan: Old Navy

Headband: Target

Flats: Shoe Show

Six Years.

Josh and I have been catching up on Up All Night, an NBC show that, with the new baby and stay-at-home dad, is quite timely for us. We've been watching it on NBC's Web site, and the same two or three commercials appear constantly. One of them is a Lowe's commercial that shows two cardinals remodeling their birdhouse. I keep expecting it to stop being cute, but it hasn't yet. Anyway, the song playing along has the words "Have I paid my dues just to be with you?" That reminds me of the last six years. We've had crazy times. I think Josh wonders how his life became so dramatic.

I would think that adding a third member to our family would make it feel stronger and more stable. Instead, everything feels more fragile. I had to realize how easily I could lose my family. My own delicacy is part of this.

Yesterday, Josh and I were able to really snuggle during one of Oliver's naps. For the first time in months, I didn't have a huge stomach or various bruises and injuries keeping me at arm's length from him.

A few days after we got home from the hospital, I couldn't sleep and was up all night cleaning. When Josh came into the kitchen to try to make me go to bed (saying, "I don't want you to start whimpering like a puppy again"), I started bawling for no apparent reason (well, I guess I had general reasons). He didn't say anything but stood straight and held me firmly until I was calm. That was perfect. I don't think I've had a breakdown since (yet).

When Josh and I first met, I had long straight hair and wore Mudd jeans and glitter. He and a friend referred to me as "the goddess." Now, that's something I can always ponder when I don't feel good about myself. I saw a quiet, steady boy who never got awkward or uncomfortable, who listened intently, and who noticed the slightest details like a purple silk scarf in my hair. I found out that his hair curled when he grew it out and that he would wear glasses when his contact prescription ran out. Those are just superficial examples of the ways I've repeatedly found my dream boy in him. Since then, Josh and I have changed quite a bit, our lives have changed remarkably (several times), and he has seen my appearance evolve and my body completely transform. How much of our happiness is in who we each are, and how much of it is in how we choose to see each other every day?

And now, we've made a miracle together. The making could have dismantled us, but we are here, three of us together. Josh is outside in jeans and a white T-shirt, switching the car seat to the other car so that he can take Oliver to his pediatrician appointment tomorrow while I'm at work. I can't imagine leaving my boys, but I know I'll get through it and then rush home to them. I'll just try to never think about it too much. People will give me a hard time about going back to work so quickly, but I know what I have to do to take care of my family, to ensure that we all have health insurance and can buy groceries and live in Oliver's Love Palace. And Oliver will float safely in the center of a six-year love bubble.

Hospital, Day 5

Dr. H arrived at 6. He took one look at me and said, “I'm going to let you go home today.”

Pam said, “You better call your mama right now.”

I did. Oliver came to us soon. I ate waffles and boiled eggs for breakfast. I was in the bathroom when a nurse and a nurse-in-training from my college came in to bring me stool softener. I couldn't see them, but the nurse asked me who had done my delivery.

“Dr. W.”

“Oh, she's good,” (or something like that.)

“Yeah. She was a champion.”

“This is Amy from work talking to you.”

Pause. I couldn't really tap into my life. Then, I remembered the kind nursing instructor who is pregnant with twins. “Oh, hey!” I said.

I came out and talked to her for a minute. She knew what had happened. I had Josh bring Oliver over to show her.

At ten, Josh and I went to a parenting class in the nursery. It was mandatory before discharge, and we'd been hearing about it for two days.

I put on the little jacket that went with my pajamas. In the night, a sweet CNA had said, “I like your lounge wear. It's so youthful.” She had spent time looking for gray socks to match and seemed regretful that she couldn't find any. I liked the baby blue ones she brought, though.

Josh had me push Oliver's bassinet, using it like a walker. I managed pretty well this way. Everyone who saw me exclaimed how good I looked. The door to the nursery was unremarkable, almost like the entrance to a secret clubhouse. A nurse took Oliver, and Josh and I sat down in a little room with a TV and many stuffed, black and white diaper bags (which contained diapers, wipes, and formula—excellent). We watched two DVDs. The room was fairly full, but Josh was one of only two dads. The other moms were texting, most of them wearing pajama pants under their hospital gowns. I cried during one of the DVDs when it showed a doctor handing a vernix-coated baby to a mother. I hadn't seen or experienced that. The doctor will place the baby on your chest or belly kept going through my mind.

After the DVDs, we waited in line for Oliver. The nurse said to another, “You'd better get Mr. James too.” He came out wide-eyed. I walked him back. Josh went ahead of me. Mom had arrived and completely cleaned up the room. She looked shocked when she saw me pushing the bassinet through the doorway.

Josh and I took a shower, and I didn't really need help. I put on maternity leggings and a long top that would work for nursing. I fixed my hair somewhat and then nursed Oliver. Mom asked me what outfit I'd like him to wear home. The outfits I had brought were much too big, so Mom had gone to Belk at some point and bought all the preemie boy outfits she could find (three of them—yellow with ducks, blue basketball-themed with tennis shoe feet, and brown stripe with giraffes). I picked the giraffes but said I wanted to dress him.

Dr. H had given me a prescription for iron and another for Percocet. He said he wanted me to have something stronger than Tylenol. I still needed to stay away from everything else. The hospital pharmacy filled the prescriptions for me.



LeAnna came to discharge me. She took out my IV (which also didn't really hurt) and went over a great deal of paperwork. I'd be going back to my doctor in two weeks rather than six.



Wanda came to discharge Oliver. His jaundice had gotten a bit worse but was still okay. We had made an appointment for him for the next day with his pediatrician. A CNA came to remove Oliver's security anklet.



I pulled a chair over to the bed, sat down, lay Oliver on the bed, and dressed my baby for the first time. I swaddled him as well as I could. A wheelchair was waiting in the hallway. Josh had taken most of our luggage out to the car and was pulling around to another lot. I hoped he wouldn't get lost. This was the real test: I somehow picked Oliver up, stood, walked to the wheelchair, turned around, and sat down. Oliver immediately began lifting his head to watch the ceiling go by. Several people said goodbye to us as we passed. We used that same elevator. Everyone we passed congratulated me, amazed even though they had no idea what we'd been through.



We got outside, and Josh was there. I stood and walked to the car, holding my son. Mom helped me get him in the car seat. We had to tighten the straps as far as they would go. Oliver was patient and stared at everything. I got in the backseat beside him. Josh and I were out in the sunlight for the first time in five days. Oliver was in it for the first time. Within moments, he was asleep.

Hospital, Day 4

I slept. Dr. H came in the next morning and said that my blood was not improving. If it didn't get better in the next few hours, we'd have to consider a blood transfusion. He said I looked very pale.

Oliver arrived, and we had a great nursing session. The next time, though, I couldn't get him to nurse, and he came back from shift change with those formula bottles in his bassinet again. I felt discouraged. I was thinking about that a lot more than I was thinking about my blood. Mom, on the other hand, was ready to take me to a hospital in Charlotte.

LeAnna came to take out my catheter. I was scared this would hurt, but it didn't. My mom later said, “Out is always better than in...except with a baby.” I was worried about getting up all the time to pee because I was still drinking water madly. The first time, Mom placed Oliver in his bassinet, and she and Josh helped me to the bathroom. We laughed ruefully about having done this before. Mom threw away the ice pad and helped me with the peri bottle, and Josh sprayed the Dermoplast. We figured out how to activate another ice pad.

We got Oliver to start nursing again. Mom turned out to be quite the lactation specialist. My dad arrived at some point. The day before had been his birthday, and I felt bad that I didn't have a present and hadn't been able to do anything besides call him and explain my scary sickness to him.

Dr. H returned. He had me stick out my tongue, and it was white. My mom says this was one of the scariest images from the hospital because I clearly wasn't getting better.

Dr. H explained the risks of blood transfusions to me. I don't remember this, but Mom and Josh do. Dr. H looked at Mom and said, “We have to give her this blood.”

“I know,” she answered.

Apparently, I signed the consent form.

LeAnna and another nurse named Meredith brought in the first unit of blood. They read numbers from my bracelet, read dates, and confirmed, “A positive.” My IV had survived getting wet in the shower, and I was relieved that I didn't have to get another. LeAnna and Meredith started the transfusion, and while the transfusion itself didn't bother me, I didn't like the look of the dark red tube. Then, one of the nurses nearly pulled the IV out while moving the blood pressure tower. “Whoa, whoa, whoa!” I yelled, and the poor nurse was mortified at her mistake. After that, I held the tube close and didn't let it near the floor or other equipment or people. Meredith and LeAnna had to sit and watch me for thirty minutes to make sure I didn't have a reaction. Apparently, heart failure was a possibility.

But I was fine, and Mom had to roll the IV tower into the bathroom so that I could pee. The transfusion took a long time, and I felt a lot of pressure in my arm. My blood pressure rose.

Then, I had a second unit of blood, and the nurses had to watch me again. Mom rolled the tower into the bathroom again. Nurses and other staff members kept coming in and saying, “You look so much better!” I'd just smile and point to the blood bag above my head. Some would nod knowingly, and others would look a bit mortified. Josh saw the pediatrician Dr. R in the cafeteria. She asked how we were doing, and he told her about the transfusion. She looked stricken. Several hours later, my transfusion was finished. The bags of blood hadn't looked very big, but I realized that it was a lot of blood.

Soon after the transfusion, I was ready to shower. The night before, Mom had gone to Food Lion. She'd bought laundry detergent and washed Josh's clothes late at night at the hotel. She'd also gotten hair barrettes, a nice razor and girly shaving cream (which Josh had used that morning to shave his face so that he could finally kiss Oliver without worrying about scratching him with his rough whiskers), chamomile and white tea face cloths (which she used to clean my face—so soothing), and kid's detangling spray.

I said, “I think I want to wear my own clothes and my own underwear and my own pads.”

Everyone looked rather amazed. The transfusion was already working.

Josh gathered everything, and we went into the bathroom (he was wearing his swim trunks again). We threw away those ridiculous mesh panties. We kicked the irritating sitz bath (which I had used once, failing to see the point of wasting my energy sitting up to use it) to the side, and I showered with my back to the water. Josh still held me, but he didn't really have to. I put on my own overnight pad, my own comfy maternity underwear, and my own gray nursing pajamas. I was so glad I'd brought all that. Back in bed, I sat up, and with the detangling spray, quickly brushed my hair and put it in barrettes. My dad held my tray while I ate dinner.

Josh's mom; sister, Sarah; and sister's boyfriend, Adam came to visit. I'm amazed so many people could fit in the room. I was, I think, cheery and energetic. But after a while (probably a few minutes), I started to get tired. The night nurse, Pam, came in to examine me. Our guests stepped into the hall. Every nurse would check my bleeding and swelling, have me squeeze her hands, check my reflexes, check my legs for blood clots, and feel for my fundus (the top of my uterus), which was getting lower and lower. Most nurses and even doctors pressed gently on my belly. Pam didn't. I cried out and then wept. She said, “I'm sorry, honey, but this is better than us having to dig out clots later.” This, of course, scared the hell out of me. Josh's family had probably heard me from the hall. Though Pam was rough, she was also serious. She said, “Honey, you have been through it.” We had no doubt that she had read my chart. My mom liked her.

I couldn't really recover after that pain, though. Josh's folks came back in, and I basically held onto my mother and cried. Susan ushered everyone out soon. They had all been so nice. Sarah and Adam had brought tiny cowboy boots.

I asked Pam about a sleeping pill, and she said, “After what you've been through, I want to see your chest rising and falling when I come in.” This seemed reasonable, and I thought that since I'd slept once, I could probably do it again. Pam instructed me to rub my belly hard in the bathroom to keep the blood flowing normally (which I did to avoid her doing it), and she told me to get up every two hours. If I didn't get up often enough, I might not realize how badly I was bleeding. She brought me my Percocet but warned me that I may not go home with anything. Since even Tylenol wasn't on my chart, though, I kept taking that Percocet.

My blood work showed a great rebound. My levels weren't optimal, but they were much closer to normal. I let Oliver go back to the nursery again; I knew I'd need my energy for him if we got to go home the next day.

Maternity Fairy Clothes: Stormy.

On cold days, I tend to bundle up in dark colors. I need to make sure to incorporate plenty of brightness this fall and winter to keep my spirits up, especially as I'm away from my precious family. Still, black and gray make me feel sophisticated.

This warm cardigan has rhinestone buttons. It's too awesome. And the key necklace is always wonderful.

I'm looking a little wistful. I don't have very long to wait!

Maternity Pants: Motherhood

Tank Top: Old Navy

Cardigan: Old Navy

Necklace: Banana Republic

Headband: Target

Flats: Target