Parenting Fails *Facepalm*

Well, so we're all sick over here. All three of us have this dang pesty cold. Pretty sure I got it first, and then, like any loving wife and mother would do, I passed it off to my husband and son.

OOPS.

Anyway, to keep my spirits up, I'm going to write about all the things we've done hilariously wrong in the past (almost) four months as parents. There's a lot of opportunity for FAIL when navigating parenthood for the first time, so it's a good thing A.) We can laugh it off most of the time and B.) John Paul will never remember all these fails.

:)

Let's start here, shall we? . . .

So, there was this one time John was carrying John Paul around right after a feeding, without the all-important burp cloth to protect his shoulder. That day we learned the hard way, ALWAYS carry a burp cloth.

We also learned pretty quickly that diapers are ineffective if we don't point his pee-producing part down and/or we don't check the tightness of the leg holes. Both result in one of two types of warm liquid being spilled over all the things, including blankets, pants, the couch, the boppy . . . basically whatever the baby is sitting on. Let's just say we've done a LOT of extra laundry since John Paul was born. It's a steep learning curve, folks.

Then there was this other time my son gave himself a hickey. I was carrying him in our Boba Wrap and he was soothing himself by sucking on his arm. I thought it was pretty harmless and also super cute, until later, when I discovered he had a massive bruise-like hickey on his arm. I was horrified. Good thing hickey bruises heal up fast.

Oh, and we also spent the first 6 weeks of his life not realizing we had to help him take naps during the day. We were wondering why he was SO fussy and needy all the time. Take note: if a baby is yawning and fussing at you, he's probably tired, and he probably needs your help falling asleep. Got it.

Also, if you're like us and you're too cheap to buy a changing table, you will likely have to be ok with getting poop on whatever surface you're changing baby on.

Exhibit A
Our bed, with poop on it:

We've also learned that people will judge you when you let your newborn have an iPhone. In our defense, it's an old iPhone that's permanently on airplane mode, solely used as a sound machine to soothe our sleepy baby. But mostly it just looks like 4-month old has a cell phone.

And most recently, we've been that couple who brings their baby out to bars/restaurants when we should be home letting him nap instead. At least it makes for some cute pictures!

Alright, that's enough fail for one post. I'm sure we'll have more to share as time goes on. Because it's basically impossible to get parenting 100% right, especially this first go-around. But at least it's (mostly) fun in the process!

I'll leave you with some recent pics of our little man, to balance all that FAIL with some CUTE.

Breastfeeding Woes or . . . Pumpin' Ain't Easy

Before John Paul was born, I prepared like mad for his birth. I spent hours upon hours reading about labor, attending classes, watching online videos, hiring a doula. You name it, I probably did it. I was a birth master and dang proud of it.

But when it came to all the stuff that happens after birth, I prepared for nada. I never once picked up a book about how to, you know, care for and raise a baby.

WHAT WAS I THINKING?!

After a most lovely birth experience, we quickly realized we had no flippin' clue what we were doing. And all our challenges started with breastfeeding.

To my credit, I did take a 2-hour class on What to Expect When Breastfeeding, but only because our birth class instructor recommended it. The class was very basic and essentially only covered what to do when things go right. It made breastfeeding seem so beautiful, so natural, so easy. *Sigh*

IF ONLY it were that easy.

Oh, breastfeeding.

How I love thee. And also hate thee.

As soon as John Paul started life on the outside, he was put directly on to my chest, exactly as I wished. We had the best snuggles for a while, I shared my body heat with him, and he shared his precious newborn cries with me. Those first moments sure were something special.

After a short while, I was ready to try nursing him. Of the little that I learned, I was taught that newborns basically just know how to breastfeed right away. They know how to open their little mouths and latch on perfectly. And they know how to find your nipple by sense of smell. So I was ready for John Paul to take charge and make food happen.

Except it didn't go like that at all. Instead, John Paul awkwardly rubbed his cheeks from side to side across my nipple, never once trying to latch. I'd gently shove my nipple into his mouth and he'd just wiggle it right out. He also wouldn't stop crying through the whole process. Poor little man was so confused, and his ill-prepared mom had no clue what to do either.

After about 5 minutes of this, we decided to stop fighting and instead let him rest. The plan was to try again after he had a good post-birth nap. Surely he'd latch then. Surely he'd be hungry enough by then to figure it out.

But we tried again a few hours later and he was still not having it. He'd rub his face all over my breast, but never successfully found the nipple and latched, even with all my help.

A little later, John wanted to do some skin-to-skin with John Paul, so I handed the little guy over. John took his sweater off and laid John Paul on his chest. It was such a sweet moment to behold, until a minute in, John half-screeched, "He's trying to latch on me!" That's right. Our son was trying to latch onto my husband's tiny, milk-less, hairy nipple. He had his mouth wide open, perfect form actually, ready for his meal, only he was trying to eat off the wrong boob. Oh, John Paul.

So, without skipping a beat, John quickly handed John Paul back to me and we tried having him latch on the right nipple, for what felt like the bajillionth time. Still no luck. He preferred Dad's hairy nipple to Mom's milk-filled one. *Double sigh*

Soon after, we called in the hospital lactation consultant. Surely she'd help us figured it out! After she helped us try several tricks and different positions with no luck, she deemed him too sleepy and told us to give him another nap before trying to feed again later.

I was starting to worry.

But finally, at about 8 hours after his birth, our little man figured it out. Our sweet nurse came in to help and encourage me. I pointed my nipple straight at John Paul, probably thought to myself, "TAKE THE BOOB, GOSH DARNIT!" and plopped it in his little hungry mouth.

Praise the LORD, he finally started to suck!

At first, getting him latched was a huge, HUGE relief. However, things mostly just got worse from there. Little did we know, his 8-hour delay in learning how to latch was just the beginning of our breastfeeding troubles.

It wasn't long until the latch became painful. It felt like he was slightly pinching the nipple with every suck. Like he was just chomp, chomp, chomping away at my dainty little nipple. OUCH!

We quickly put in a request to see the hospital lactation consultant again, hoping she'd fix the problem before we were sent home to do this all on our own.

Again we tried several different positions, tweaked my holding style, popped him off and re-latched him several times. Every time we'd try something new she'd ask, "Any better?" But nothing was working. Even though we were thrilled he was latching, I was bummed it never felt good or right. After an hour of trial and error with no success, she basically said, "You guys will figure this out. Just keep trying!" and left us with that. We figured she probably had lots of other patients to see and just didn't have time for us anymore. *Cue more sighs*

Within minutes of her leaving our room, we were discharged from the hospital and making a plan to see a different lactation consultant if things weren't better in a few days.

And they weren't. In fact, things kept getting worse.

My breaking point was seeing blood in my son's vomit. The latch was so bad, he had cracked my nipple and I bled into his mouth during the whole feeding.

I was also in excruciating pain. I'd have to kick the bed or couch several times whenever he latched to prevent myself from saying horrible, horrible words that no one-week-old should ever have to hear.

So my husband, wanting to solve the problem (like men usually do), made a bunch of phone calls and made me an appointment with an International Board Certified Lactation Consultant (IBCLC) ASAP while I sat on the couch and cried through another feeding.

When we found out we couldn't get an appointment for another week, I cried even harder. I had already gone through this week of painful feedings and I was going to have to go through another before any help was available?

So my helpful husband made another call. This time to the Tennessee Breastfeeding Hotline. While it wasn't exactly the help I was looking for, it was something. They recommended we pick up some of Dr. Jack Newman's All Purpose Nipple Ointment to hold me over. And so we did.

Looking back, I can almost say for sure that if it weren't for that numbing, healing, high-powered ointment, I probably wouldn't have made it another week. Thank you, Tennessee Breastfeeding Hotline! THANK YOU, All Purpose Nipple Ointment.

To get through the week, I relied heavily on that ointment and the motto, "Just one feeding at a time." That's all I had to do. One at a time. And if it got really bad, I could always pump. Or I could even give him a little bit of that formula we had stashed away as a just-in-case. While I never did pump or feed him formula, it was still nice to know we had back-ups.

When we finally made it to appointment day, I was so proud of myself for making it that far and so relieved to finally be getting proper help.

The first thing our lactation consultant (the IBCLC) did was weigh our little John Paul. We were thrilled to see that he was gaining weight, and lots of it! So at least we didn't need to worry that he wasn't getting enough milk.

Next, she watched me feed him, and wouldn't you know, he had a really lovely latch. That stinker was showing off for the IBCLC! She did do a little position correcting, but for the most part said we had good form.

And then she looked for an upper lip tie and a tongue tie -- when the connective tissue under the upper lip and under the tongue are too tight for the baby to be able to form a proper latch. She did see an upper lip tie, but since she was able to flip his lip up without much trouble, she told us it likely wasn't causing our issues.

(Bad advice #1)

Basically, by the end of the appointment, she said we were doing a great job and that, with a little more time, John Paul's mouth would grow and we'd likely no longer have pain issues. She chalked up all my pain to a small mouth and left it at that.

(Bad advice #2)

Phew! Easy enough. All I had to do was wait it out a short while and things would probably get better.

Only that wasn't the case at all.

While things did start to get better, I still had pain at every feeding. Mostly mild pain, but there was the occasional feeding with extreme pain, which included more couch kicking to avoid screaming expletives. Also, whenever he'd finish eating, he'd come off the breast and my nipple would be shaped like lipstick with a big ol' crease in it, meaning he wasn't getting the nipple far enough into his mouth.

While I wanted to believe our troubles were all behind us, I knew things were still not right. At the time I was convinced things were getting better, but in reality, I was just learning to tolerate the pain better. And that numbing, healing All Purpose Nipple Ointment was probably the only thing keeping me afloat.

Fast forward two weeks after that lactation consultation and we were back in her office for another appointment.

This time, she watched my technique a little more closely and asked a bunch more questions. John Paul was almost 4 weeks old at this point, so it was time to get down to business and solve our problems.

First, she heard him make a click, click, click noise while he was feeding, but then quickly dismissed it. The clicking meant he was popping his latching with every suck, but she said if it wasn't painful while it was happening, then it wasn't a problem.

(Bad advice #3)

Then I asked her about the lipstick shape of my nipples when he was done feeding. She dismissed that too saying it didn't look that severe.

(Bad advice #4)

We also asked if it was ok for me to still be using the All Purpose Nipple Ointment so heavily. We had heard it was only supposed to be used for about two weeks, since it can thin the skin of the nipple and end up causing more harm then good. She said she knew folks who had used it for months on end, so it was no big deal.

(Bad advice, #5)

Finally, after asking several questions, she said our issues were due to oversupply and a fast flow. We talked about how strong my flow was when my milk first came in. She speculated that in that moment (when he was 4 days old), he was overwhelmed by my milk and learned to close his mouth off to prevent himself from getting too much milk at once. And now that I still had a lot of milk, he was continuing to do that. Closing off his mouth was causing all our pain.

(Bad advice #6)

So our solution was to have me wear cabbage leaves in my bra at night, which apparently helps reduce milk supply, and to have me recline far back when feeding him so that the milk wasn't flowing directly down into his mouth.

(Bad advice #1,000,232)

As you can guess, especially from all the bad advice hints, this didn't solve our issues.

I was convinced for a while that my fast flow was the culprit because. . . why shouldn't I trust the advice of an IBCLC? Sure, she was a bit brusque at times. And she always seemed like she was too busy for my annoying problems. But she had the credentials, so surely she knew what she was talking about. Right?!

But, no. WRONG. Totally wrong. And unfortunately, I only know this now in hindsight. If only I had been smart enough to seek a second opinion at that point. *Sighhhhhh.*

So my pain persisted.

And then we moved across the state and got busy with that, so we put all the breastfeeding stuff on the back burner.

Sure, I was still in pain at almost every feeding. But the All Purpose Nipple Ointment was still getting me through.

Though, in the back of my mind I was starting to worry John Paul wasn't exactly gaining enough. He wasn't chunking up like I was expecting, just getting long and lanky. BUT we really didn't have time to worry. We had just moved and needed to get settled before we could even think about seeking out another IBCLC. Plus, I was getting even more used to the pain and breastfeeding didn't seem as much of a hassle anymore, so we just let the saga go for a while.

That is, until. . . green poop.

Forest green poop.

Kid, I'm sorry I'm talking about your poop on the internet, but oh well. It's important.

John, my pediatrician husband, wasn't too concerned because green poop is on the spectrum of normal.

But, the more I read, the more I was convinced that his bright green poop was from, yet again, breastfeeding issues.

Apparently when baby only gets mom's protein-rich foremilk and none of her fat-dense hindmilk, the poop turns green. So basically, I was starting to think John Paul was not draining my breasts. He was only getting the first part of his feeding, the foremilk, and then getting too tired (from his bad latch) to get to the finish, where the hindmilk was hiding. It made all the sense to me, especially because he was getting lankier by the day. I was nervous I was underfeeding my baby, so we sought out an IBCLC in our new town STAT.

Enter Gloria.

Gloria is AWESOME.

Gloria is the IBCLC we've been working with for over a month now and I'm thinking I can finally say things are on the up and up, all because of her.

Our first appointment with her was O V E R W H E L M I N G !!! I don't know how I avoided a major breakdown in her office, but I did. Just barely did.

The very first thing she did was weigh our John Paul. At two months, our little man was clocking in around 10 lb 4 oz, putting him in the 15th percentile for weight. Considering he was in the 75th percentile at birth, I was pretty bummed to see such a huge drop.

Next, Gloria watched him eat. He maybe ate for 5 minutes, then fell asleep at the breast, which was pretty normal for him. I'd wake him, change his position to the football hold, he'd eat some more, then fall asleep again. This was our normal feeding routine. But this time, Gloria was there to weigh him to see how much he was taking in. After eating for almost 30 minutes, John Paul only took in 2 ounces.

According to Gloria, at two months old, John Paul should have been taking in 4 - 5 ounces during this morning feeding.

:(

I was underfeeding our little guy and we were finally able to prove it. It wasn't easy to hear, but at least my suspicions were finally confirmed. Thank you for pointing us in the right direction, green poop.

But why? Why was John Paul only taking in 2 ounces per 30-minute feeding?

Gloria said my form was perfect. I was holding him right and doing my best to get him latched on right. So I was doing my 50%. It was time to check on John Paul's 50%. She assumed the culprit was a lip and/or tongue tie, especially because he was still click click clicking with nearly every suck and taking forever to eat. I told her our previous IBCLC saw one but said it wasn't restricting his lip movement, so we never went any further with it. But when Gloria flipped his lip, she thought otherwise.

"Here's your problem!" she said.

That flippin' lip tie.

In a nut shell, his lip tie was making eating a chore for him (and painful for me!). He'd have to work so hard to get milk that it was tiring him out and putting him to sleep. Since he wasn't getting much at each feeding, he was telling my boobs, "make less, make less!" and was accidentally weaning himself in the process. So his latch was bad, his intake was low, and my supply was decreasing by the day.

None of this had really presented as an issue with our previous IBCLC because his weight gain was on track. But at that point he was only two weeks old and didn't need to be taking in 4 - 5 ounces per feeding. Now that he was bigger, he was still taking in amounts appropriate for a two-week-old and it was catching up with him.

If only our previous IBCLC had really tried to help us. UGH. If only. Our problems would have never gotten this far.

*ALL THE SIGHS*

Gloria quickly made a very intense plan-of-action for us. Since we wouldn't be able to get his lip tie lasered for another few weeks, we had to make sure he was getting enough in the meantime. We also needed to work on getting my supply back to normal. While I definitely wasn't starving him, he was getting just barely enough to stay at the minimum healthy weight. So we needed to up his cals quick.

This was when our new feeding routine started.

Feed John Paul at the breast for 5 minutes on each side. (I usually ended up feeding him for more like 15 minutes on each side because I enjoyed it and he did too.)
Feed John Paul a bottle of previously expressed milk, as much as he wanted.(It's easier to get milk out of a bottle vs. the breast, so John Paul really liked this addition.)
Pump each side for 10 minutes with a hospital grade pump.
Clean pump parts and bottle parts.
Put John Paul down for a nap and hope he didn't fight it.
Repeat 0.5 - 1.5 hours later, depending on how hungry he was.

Also, stop using the All Purpose Nipple Ointment after every feeding, because it was likely thinning my nipple skin (eek!). Instead I bought Motherlove Diaper Rash & Thrush ointment for the nippies.

And take Motherlove More Milk vitamins, a natural way to boost the milk supply. BUT! Be careful because they can lower your blood pressure and make you feel faint if you don't eat or drink enough. Oh, and they have a kinda gross aftertaste.

It was a doozy.

And the first day was so discouraging. When I'd pump after each feeding, I was only producing 1/3 to 1/2 of an ounce.

Enter massive meltdown.

I cried for about an hour that first day. I was so overwhelmed, so disappointed by where we were in our breastfeeding journey, feeling bad that my son had barely been eating enough for two months, and thinking I could not handle the new routine. I mean, I was about to start pumping like it was my full time job! At least 6 times a day! And feeding him on the breast on top of that. AND doing all the other mommy duties on top of THAT. Plus, I had this horrible feeling that we were at a point of no return with my milk supply and that our breastfeeding journey was quickly coming to an end.

It was not a pretty moment for me.

BUT! God has a way of redeeming these messes. Within a few days, I was finally getting the swing of things. I was pumping loads more milk and John Paul was a much happier baby as a result of all this extra foodage. I even got 12 ounces one morning after he ate off my breasts. 12 ounces!!! Life was good.

One trick I learned rather quickly was to keep John Paul distracted while pumping. This play gym from Ikea saved my butt, or boobs, rather.

Also, thank goodness, improved eating and improved sleeping went hand-in-hand. The more our baby ate, the easier nap time became. Phew! It was a weight off this weary momma's shoulders.

Two weeks flew on by and we took John Paul back to Gloria for a quick weigh in and check up before our lip tie lasering the next day. In just two weeks of our new routine, she was super impressed by how quickly my milk supply came back AND . . .

Drumroll please!

John Paul weighed in at a whopping 12 lb 3oz!!!

Our little stinker gained 2 lb in two weeks AND was now up to around the 30th percentile.

BOOM baby!

Oh, and yes. His poop was back to that pretty brownish-yellow color again, thanks for asking! He was finally getting my fatty hindmilk (via pumping and bottle feeding), packing on the pounds, and pooping the prettiest poop color I ever did see.

*Sigh of relief!*

The next day, we headed 30 minutes north to the nearest dentist capable of doing the lasering procedure. I was super nervous, because LASER. And kind of skeptical of how effective it'd be, but figured it was worth a shot. Almost all of our problems -- the clicking noise, green poop, slow weight gain, low supply, the way he tucked his lip funny whenever he was latched or eating from a bottle -- were, based on my research, all related to an upper lip tie, so I felt it was worth a try. And if it actually worked, it meant we could ditch the pump and bottle feeding all together since, with an improved latch, John Paul would be able to get more than just 2 ounces from my breasts and draw out the hindmilk on his own. So while I wasn't thrilled to have someone lasering my little baby's mouth tissue away, we decided to go through with it in the name of better breastfeeding.

The procedure was actually super quick. The dentist took a look at his lip tie to make sure he was a good candidate for the procedure and right away she said his case was pretty severe. A level IV lip tie! Yikes! I snuggled John Paul in my lap and held his head in place while John held his arms and legs, and within a minute, the dentist had successfully lasered his tie. John Paul was not super happy with us, but I put him to the breast as quickly as I could and he was basically good from there.

A few days after the procedure, we were already noticing a big difference. He was barely click click clicking anymore while feeding! I also wasn't feeling as much pain while he was at the breast. And he was more active while he was eating. Instead of falling asleep several times throughout his 30-minute feeding, he was awake and actively sucking. Were our problems finally fixed?

We saw Gloria a week after the procedure to weigh John Paul again and to see if the procedure had made a difference in John Paul's intake at the breast.

In just one week with his new latch, he was at 12 lb 12 oz and got 5 ounces off me in one feeding! 5 ounces!!!

PRAISE THE LORD!!

Also, before we started all this with Gloria, I was feeding him in several different positions at each feeding to help keep him awake and get access to my milk from different angles. Cross cradle for 5 minutes, football for 10 minutes, then switch sides and repeat. But NOW, we were just doing the cross cradle hold for about 10 minutes on each side because he didn't need all that help. As much as I didn't want to believe the lip tie was our problem, GOSH. . . we're seriously the poster family for lip-tie laser now, aren't we??

And now, two weeks after his epic 5-ounce feeding in Gloria's office, we're still in a good place.

I'm only pumping once or twice a day, which is way better than six or seven. John Paul gets only one bottle of expressed milk at the end of the day, to bulk him up for the long overnight sleep. No more lipstick shaped nipple after feedings, which means he's getting my nipple all the way into his mouth. Still seeing that beautiful brown poop ALL THE DAYS. And I only experience mild pain during feedings, if any at all.

That's not to say things are perfect. I still do experience some pain and haven't quite figured out what that's all about. Perhaps it's leftover from those first two months of his bad latch. Or perhaps I have a mild yeast infection that has gone untreated for a while. Or mayyyybe it's because I still haven't 100% given up on my All Purpose Nipple Ointment. Still using it twice a day because. . . I think I'm an addict.

But, baby steps, folks. We've come a long way since that first day of his life when he wouldn't even take the breast. If you'd told me at the beginning that breastfeeding would be this much of a hassle, this unnatural, THIS complicated, I'd have probably backed out a long time ago. But at this point, it seems the bulk of the troubles are behind us, and for that I'm extremely grateful.

Who knows? Maybe I'll get a raging case of mastitis tomorrow and really be ready to throw in the towel. I'm just going to keep taking it one feeding at a time. It's amazing what we've accomplished with that mindset so far, so we'll see how much further it'll take us.

Oh, and there's one other thing that's kept me going this long, and keeps me going still when we have a bad feeding here or there. The breastfeeding snuggles. Breastfeeding gives us happy hormones -- those lovely, happy-sleepy-drunky feelings both John Paul and I get when he's at the breast. And these days, I live for that. 

*Sigh of contentment.*

Lesson learned, folks. Next time, accumulate ALL THE BABY KNOWLEDGE before baby arrives.

;)

Final Thoughts on Birth

If you missed my 4-part birth story, you can catch the whole she-bang starting here.

But if you've already read the saga, I'd like to wrap up by throwing just a few more things about my birth experience out there.

First, I know I possibly came off a little wonky when I posted all that shtuff about how we prepped for natural labor and delivery. But in hindsight, I'm SO GLAD we did all that prep and shtuff. While choosing a very pro-natural-birth obstetrician made it pretty unlikely I'd end up having an unnecessary c-section, I'm still glad I went into the whole thing with lots of knowledge on my side. It was comforting to know what to expect through the whole experience. So I'm glad I researched my butt off beforehand. Even though it made me a birth nerd/annoying know-it-all.

I'm still a little shocked by how fast my labor went. Sure, a 12-hour labor is no walk in the park, but it was still a bit shorter than the first-time-mom labor average, which is 16 hours. And I know from reading other birth stories that they can go wayyyy way longer than that. Going into it, I knew my mom and sister had short labors, so I was hoping I'd caught that gene. Turns out I did! Maybe it's the wide-birth-canal gene? We may never know.

My mom and sis were also pros at laboring without any pain meds. So maybe I got that from them too. All I know is that if my labor had been one of those insanely long ones, I'm almost certain I couldn't have done it without drugs. But by the time the pain got really intense, I only had a few hours left, so that made it very doable.

I never once asked for pain meds. Actually, there wasn't even a single moment where I thought... "I could really use some pain meds right now." Again, thank you short labor! And I suppose I should also thank my very supportive husband, our awesome doula, our cooperative baby, and all the other things that made a drug-free labor doable.

Don't get me wrong... I'm pretty proud of myself for doing it drug free. It was very painful at times. And the pain was ongoing for 12 hours. And you never quite know when the end is coming. So yeah, I'm proud. All my hard prep work and determination paid off!

And I'm happy. I'm pretty sure being able to feel the pain helped me progress faster. Being able to stand and walk around helped too. And laboring in the tub. All things I couldn't have done with an epidural. Plus, I was pretty bad at pushing even when I could feel what I was doing. Can you imagine how long I would have been pushing for if I hadn't been able to feel it? The answer is WAY longer, because I would have been pushing wrong the whole time.

A few folks have asked me, "On a scale of one to ten, how bad was the pain?" Which is actually quite difficult to answer. The contractions start off as a one, really. And then gradually work their way up. But it's not exactly excruciating pain. It's more just uncomfortable pain. You know how sometimes a really big gas bubble can hurt and there's really no position you can get in to make it better? You just have to ride it out. That's how the really intense contractions were. Just extremely uncomfortable. And my body was shaking uncontrollably, which again, was just uncomfortable. So maybe I'd call the absolute worse of them a nine? But you also get breaks in between each one. So, as long as I kept reminding myself the labor would eventually end, and also, before it did end, I'd get breaks between the contractions, the uncomfortableness and the intensity were very manageable. I guess what I'm trying to say is, labor is hard to rate on the "one to ten" pain scale.

In addition to fast laboring being in my genes, I think trying my very best to remain calm and relaxed really did help labor progress quickly. Relaxing my mind and my body relaxed my cervix. And going into it with all that preparation helped me to be relaxed since I knew, mostly, what to expect. The tub helped with relaxation too.

Also, John Paul being super low and sitting on my rectum (OW!) helped. That was just pure luck, methinks.

Oh, and you know what else helped? Basically not telling many people our due date. This way, we didn't have a bajillion people asking, "Where's that baby?" and stressing me out leading up to the due date. I even put a false due date on our registry. Is that sorta crazy? Actually, I don't even care. It kept the pesters away.

We also kept my state-of-health super hush. When I saw the bloody show, I barely told a soul. When contractions started a day before I actually went into labor, again, hush hush. When contractions started for reals and a family member called to ask what was up, we told them nothing of my progressing labor. (We sorta felt bad for lying, but, gosh darn, I wanted my privacy!) It wasn't until I was 5cm dilated, checking into the hospital that we decided to tell family. Ahh, and it was SO calming to do it that way.

Someone we did keep in the labor loop was our doula! First, she was a great help when I was confused about my bloody show and then again when we were confused about when we should leave for the hospital. And second, who else is she gonna tell? She's not related to us and isn't in any of our social circles, so we knew our secret was safe with her.

Let me just say, I'm so glad we hired a doula. She actually wasn't even with us for very long during the labor. We decided to just have her meet us at the hospital since we were doing a great job of laboring at home by ourselves. All told, she was with us for only about 6 hours. But her presence was exactly what we needed. I would have been so embarrassed to make all those noises and be all naked and stuff in front of someone that I knew (like my mom or MIL or sister), but pffffft, it didn't bother me one bit with our doula. That definitely helped me relax even more. And helped John relax too. Plus, she was a great help in the weeks leading up to the delivery AND she stopped in for a visit a week after the delivery and gave us this super cute wall art.

So yeah, I'd definitely recommend a doula to anyone. I will say that our personalities weren't an exact match. She was more tough love and let's get this done and I would have probably preferred someone who showered me with only compliments and encouragement during labor, but that didn't even matter. She rocked and I'm so glad she was with us.

I'm gonna be real here for a second. Tearing sucked. I feel like I tried my best, but still ended up tearing to a 2nd degree. Ok, so I maybe shouldn't have pushed him out while I was on my back. I had the option to squat or get on all fours or even stand, but I was too tired and went for the more tradition pushing position. Ah well! Anyway, I really didn't feel it when it happened. I did feel pain every once in a while when I was being stitched up and the doc would hit a spot that wasn't numbed. OUCH. And then it took a few days to feel comfortable sitting down. But now, it really doesn't hurt at all. And I probably shouldn't have been so nervous about it.

The days after delivering were not what I had expected. Here's the prob. As soon as John Paul was born, we gave our in-laws the OK to start driving to Memphis to see us. It was an 8-hour drive so we thought that would give us plenty of time to settle after the birth, hopefully nap a little, bond with our babe, and so on. What we didn't think about was how they were going to stay in town for 2 more days and want to be with us every possible moment. Which makes so much sense. They travelled far to meet their grandson. What else were they going to want to do? But this overwhelmed introverted little me a ton. In my opinion, just a few hours after birth alone with John and John Paul were not enough. I wish we'd had those first few days just the three of us. To establish nursing in private. To ride out my post partum hormones and emotions in private. (There was a lot of crying.) To bond with our baby in private. Basically, I wanted to be able to walk around my apartment with boobs out and not a care in the world. You can't do that when your in-laws are there during most of the waking hours. Oh well. I'd do it over if I could, but I can't. At least they got some early bonding time with our little man.

And then there was breastfeeding, which honestly needs a whole post of its own. But basically, it was way more challenging than I was expecting. For all the research I did on labor before he was born, you'd think I'd have been smart enough to read a nursing book. But nahhhh! I was convinced it would be easy and natural, a piece of cake. But as it turns out, John Paul and I were both newbs and needed a lot of help. And we're still not pros. But it's definitely gotten better!

That's probably all you ever wanted to know and more about my birth experience. At the very least, this is just a good way for me to document so that if -- but more hopefully when -- I'm going through all this again, I have a long list of reminders.

And that's all she wrote!

Newborn Photos

Well, hello!

We're all still alive over here. But also still adjusting, to parenthood AND to living in a new city. As if figuring out our newborn wasn't enough, we've thrown a major move into the mix. Whew!

We moved from Memphis to Johnson City one week ago today and we're still not fully unpacked into our new place. Nope, probably not even 50% unpacked yet. 

As it turns out, our sweet little John Paul baby is a fussy one. We love him to pieces and can't get enough of his chubby cheeks and occasional coos and smiles, but if he's not being held or fed or entertained, he's gonna fuss. Bless him. So that leaves only one of us to do al the unpacking, And it's really more like unpacking AND purging. Store this, throw that away, donate that. After 3 years of living in our previous apartment, we seemed to have accumulated ALL THE THINGS. So in addition to being new parents and moving across Tennessee, we're also now in the middle of a giant spring cleaning of sorts. Oh, and John starts his new job in less than 2 weeks.

We

are

crazypants.

Anyway, all this to say, I've had my reasons for being away from the keys for a while. And I'll likely continue to be away a bit while we sort through this new chaotic (but lovely) adventure we're on. Sorry. Such is life!

HOWEVER! To make up for it, I give you these photos of our adorable baby boy. These were taken at 1 week and 3 days old. D'awwwwww!

We wavered back and forth a bit on whether we should hire a newborn photographer, but BOY am I glad we did! He's already grown so much since these were taken, so at this point I'm SO glad we decided to professionally capture his earlier itty bitty days. 

Pretty cute, right? :)

Anyway, I'll be popping back in again... eventually. Once this apartment doesn't look a hot mess! And once our precious little fussy pants is a little less fussy (love him!). And basically once life settles down a bit. Especially because I still have so much to say. Expect one last birth post and a nursing post and other rando things to come your way. But like I said... eventually.

XOXO 'til then!

John Paul's Birth Story, Part 4

To read part 3 click here. 

9.5cm dilated with just a teeny tiny super flexible lip left in the way!!

SO CLOSE!

I wasn't quite allowed to push yet, but Dr. P, our NaPro OB, was on his way and pushing was most definitely going to happen soon.

When Dr. P arrived around 4:45am, I was mid-contraction and was SO exhausted from the intensity, I couldn't even lift my head off the birthing ball I was leaning on to say hi. Actually, it took me about 5 minutes to even process that I should say hi. A super muffled,"Hi, Dr. P," was all I could muster. I'm sure he understood, though.

At 5am, Dr. P gave me the go ahead to start pushing! Hallelujah!

From everything I had read, pushing is typically the favorite part for moms, since the contractions actually get a little easier and you actually feel like you're doing something productive finally. You can even watch your little one's head descend if you want. So I was ready. Exhausted, but ready.

In our birth preferences, we had written that I wanted to decide which position I pushed in. I figured I'd want to be squatting or kneeling on the bed, hanging over the back of it, something non-traditional like that. Especially because in those positions, you're less likely to tear. But when the time finally came, I was soooo exhausted, and still shaking uncontrollably from when transition started in the tub, that all I wanted to do was lie down. And so I did.

At this point I also decided I wanted to be completely naked. I wanted to be able to do skin-to-skin immediately and I thought complete nakedness would make that easiest. So off went the bikini top. And away went any shred of modesty I had left.

Before pushing started, I remember saying to Amy in a super wimpy, tired voice, "What if I'm bad at pushing?" I was so scared of getting stuck in the pushing phase, or needing assistance to pull baby out. She reassured me that I could do it and then the whole pushing ordeal started.

Turns out, I'm not like most moms. I hated pushing. It was way harder than I ever thought it'd be. First, contractions were still being mega felt in my bottom. So that didn't get any better. And on top of that, the pushing process is just complicated. You wait around for a contraction to start and then you hold your breath 'til you're bright red in the face and you PUSH with everything you've got, barely catching your breath between each push. And you've got to push to a very specific spot or else all your pushing energies are wasted. Of course, I kept pushing into the wrong spot. It wasn't 'til the end of the contraction that I'd figure out where to direct my pushing, and by then, I'd only get one short, perfect push in.

Finally, by around the 10th or so contraction of pushing, I had it figured out. I pretty much would push correctly the whole way through and we were making some serious progress. I was still hating every second of it, but I was doing it.

Soon, Dr. P and John and all the other spectators could see baby's head! I had told Dr. P at one of my prenatal appointments that I was pretty sure baby was going to be super baldy since both John and I were bald babes, so he decided that moment was the perfect time to make a joke. "This is the baldest baby I've ever delivered!" Totally funny to me now, not funny at all during delivery. I looked him dead in the eye and said, "Knock it off."

With the next contraction, baby was crowning! And WOW was that a special kind of pain. They call it the ring of fire and now I know why. It burrrrrrns! His head was half out and my contraction was over, so his head just sat there, burning my perineal tissue. Ouch! But letting him just sit there was also stretching it out, which I knew was good for avoiding a tear. So I just panted and whined through it... "Owww! It hurts SO much!"

Dr. P asked me if I wanted to reach down and feel the head during the next contraction and I just bluntly said, "NO." I mean, I could definitely feel it already, thank you very much, and something just weirded me out about touching a half-birthed head.

The next contraction came and with a push, his head was out!! Doc told me to stop pushing so he could check for a cord around baby's neck. No cord was there, so I pushed again to get baby's shoulders out and just like that, our baby was born!

They immediately put baby on my tummy and by the way they held baby up, I could easily tell we had a boy!! And our boy had a set of healthy lungs because he was crying up a storm already. Such a sweet, sweet cry!

I looked up at John and he was blubbering more than the baby. It was so beautiful to see him so emotional.

Meanwhile, I snuggled up with my newborn son and just quietly fell in love.

We were able to do the delayed cord clamping, then John cut the cord.

We cuddled skin-to-skin while Dr. P delivered the placenta and then stitched me up. I was still shaking uncontrollably at this point. Labor does some weird things to your body.

I ended up with a 2nd degree tear, close to a 3rd, which Dr. P thinks happened when John Paul's shoulders made their way out. He said I did a great job pushing slowly to avoid a tear, but those shoulders just caught me the wrong way, and so I tore. Ah well!

While he was stitching, I remember apologizing to Dr. P and the rest of the folks in the room for all the weird noises I made during labor. I was surprised when they said the noises weren't weird at all, but instead sounded like I was singing! I guess moaning isn't as embarrassing as I thought!

John Paul and I stayed skin-to-skin for a while and attempted a first breastfeed, but he wasn't maintaining his temperature, so they had to take him to the warmer for a little bit.

They weighed our big boy and he was 7lb 15oz!! He checked out perfectly in every way and soon he was warm enough to return to Mommy for more cuddles.

Our doula, Amy

We announced the good news by calling our parents and our siblings and texting pictures. It was so fun to tell folks, "You have a grandSON," or "You have a NEPHEW!"

It was also so fun to inspect all his little details. His soft skin, his fingers and toes, his fuzzy red hair. It was so easy to fall in love.

Soon enough, it was time to clean up and get wheeled down to the recovery room. John Paul still hadn't latched on or tried to feed and was honestly just more interested in crying and sleeping. It was easy to be ok with that though, since he was so dang cute.

And that's where this birth story ends and a lifetime of motherhood begins.

2 years of infertility, 1.5 years of NaPro treatment, 9 months of pregnancy, 12 hours of labor, and 40 minutes of pushing. So much heartache and sorrow and pain and joy in that time. But this little guy was worth it all. This little guy was worth the wait.

All praise be to God!

John Paul's Birth Story, Part 3

To read part 2 click here.

In the days leading up to my due date, John and I did our best to distract ourselves with different distracting activities, and one night, this included making little posters for the labor and delivery room. So the first thing we did when we got to room 603 was hang 'em up!

Next, it was back on the monitor for me. It had been a little more than an hour since my contractions and baby's heartbeat had been monitored, so I was due up. I didn't realize I was allowed to stand during monitoring, so stupid me sat in the bed the whole 20 minutes, and gosh did that hurt!

Amy, our doula, arrived around 2am and we made plans to labor in the tub for a while. It wasn't a fancy tub or anything, just your standard shower with tub, but I was interested in seeing if the water relieved any of the butt contraction pressure. Unfortunately, it took a while for the tub to fill, so by the time the tub was filled up, it was almost time to be put on the monitor again. But this time, since our expert Amy was there, she pointed out that I didn't have to sit on the bed while on the monitor, so at least there was that. She also whipped out this handy trick during each contraction and would push on my lower back by squeezing my hips to relieve some of the pressure. It was niiiice. I'd lean on a big birthing ball set on the bed and squat, she'd squeeze my hips, and John would stand on the other side of the ball, holding my hands and saying sweet things. We made a great birthing team.

After what felt like foreverrrrrr, we were finally off the monitor again, so into the tub I went, around 3am. I wore my green polka dot bikini top to feel more cute and keep things semi-modest (although, ok, so I wasn't wearing anything on the bottom, oops). Amy "lit" some fake candles, we turned the lights off, and John put on some relaxing music, Tibetan chant music with nature sounds in the background. So peaceful, and such a lovely way to labor.

I'm not going to say that being in the water felt much better. It did slow my contractions down just a bit, but soon they picked up in intensity so much that I started shaking uncontrollably. I'd arch my back and wiggle around a lot during the contractions to keep my bum off the hard surface, and I started doing something I never thought I'd do. I moaned. Lots and lots of moaning.

When reading up on labor and watching a few birth videos, I realized moaning and/or screaming was a thing that a lot of women did. But I was so embarrassed by it, I figured I just wouldn't do it. I didn't want to make such weird noises in front of my doula and my doctor, no way, no how. But then, in the moment, I just couldn't help it. It felt SO GOOD to vocalize. My goal all along was to stay loose and relaxed during contractions and this absolutely helped with that. So I just went with it. And honestly wasn't embarrassed in the slightest.

John and Amy could both tell things were getting serious in the tub. With all the shaking and the moaning getting louder with each contraction, we all knew what was up... TRANSITION. I was getting closer and closer to the end of labor and my body sure was showing the signs.

And then, I felt this undeniable urge to PUSH. With each contraction, it'd start like all the others. I'd squirm around for a few seconds, moan a bit, but then I just couldn't help it... I'd have this overwhelming urge to puuuuuushhhhhhh down and out. It was wild how my body just took over and made me do it. We were pretty sure I wasn't at 10cm yet, so we decided I probably shouldn't be pushing. Amy guessed it was because my water hadn't broken yet and so it was bulging into my birth canal and making my body think it had something to push out. Anyway, it's a BAD idea to push if you're not 10cm dilated yet because you can really damage your cervix, not to mention you tire yourself out way too early.

So now with each contraction, I had to do all I could to stop my body from pushing. It was not easy, nor pleasant, but we got through. I basically had two options -- pant like a dog or put my lips together and blow like a horse. Both incredibly awkward things to do for someone who's not in labor. But I was in labor gosh darn it, so I did what I had to do. And honestly, they really did help. I was able to mostly avoid the unnecessary pushing with each contraction with the doggy/horsy sound techniques, so all was good.

My husband was also the sweetest thing ever during this whole intense tub ordeal. Between contractions he'd pour water over my belly, which didn't exactly fit in the tub, and tell me stories from many of our romantic adventures -- our honeymoon, our babymoon, our wedding day. *Insert melting heart here.* And during contractions, he'd do the horsy blowy breathing thing with me and just hold my hand tight. Super husband, folks, seriously.

We also tried to get through more prayers on my labor prayer list during tub time, but if I'm being honest, it got so intense that I was way too distracted to focus on individual prayers. So instead, I'm hoping God knew that I was offering up the rest of my labor for the rest of the wonderful women on my prayer list.

By 4am, Gabby nurse was back and ready to put me on the monitor again. My tubbing time was over. But before I got hooked up, we decided it was time to check my cervix again, since things had very obviously progressed in the tub.

We were so thrilled when Gabby announced my progress.

8cm dilated!!!

She also said that as soon as my water broke, I'd probably be ready to push. WOWSA! We didn't want anyone breaking my water just yet, so we decided to continue laboring with water intact, but also had a feeling it'd be breaking on its own soon.

Fast forward through 20 minutes of monitoring and me laboring while holding onto the birthing ball on the bed while doing horsy noises to avoid pushing and moaning to relieve tension. Gabby wrapped up my monitoring stuff and announced, "Call me back in here when her water breaks," while walking out of the room. Not even 5 seconds later... GUSH! My water broke during another intense butt contraction!! So back into the room she came.

Even though it hadn't been long since my last cervix check, we decided to let her check again, just to see how much progress breaking my water caused. So I laid down on the bed, she checked me and...

To read part 4 click here. 

John Paul's Birth Story, Part 2

To read part 1 click here. 

"You're 4cm dilated and 70% effaced," said our nurse, Gabby.

Immediately, John and I exchanged a look. It was half "alright, we've made progress!" and half "but not as much progress as we'd like" and another half "so should we stay or should we go now?"

So we explained this to Gabby. We told her we were planning on going home if I was less than 6cm dilated. She quickly explained that though I was only 4cm, I was extremely favorable and would likely dilate another centimeter over the next hour. She offered to check in with Dr. P, our OB to see what he recommended and we took her up on it, even though it meant waking him at 11:30 at night. 

She returned after five more minutes of my butt laboring and said he recommended the same -- stay for an hour to see how I progress. If I dilated more, we would stay, if I stayed at 4cm, we'd go home. Since both of them made the same rec, we figured what the hay! Might as well give it a go. Plus, there was only one other laboring mama on the whole floor, so we'd basically have the place to ourselves. Not exactly home, but still a pretty peaceful environment for laboring, as far as hospitals go.

At this point, Gabby had already monitored my contractions and baby's heartbeat for the mandatory 20 minutes out of the hour (intermittent monitoring) and she'd read and approved everything in our birth preferences (yay!), so we were free to labor as we pleased. She said she'd be back in an hour to check for progress, so off we went to work on progressing.

I labored for a few contractions in our small triage room, but we quickly decided walking laps around the halls would be our best approach. 

The halls were lined with the most out-of-date, awkwardly adorable Anne Geddes portraits. They were a great distraction between butt contractions.

When a contraction would kick in, I'd hang on John, slow dance style, and do this strange butt-out squat to relieve a bit of the butt pressure. It was getting more intense! I'd also try my best to relax my face, my jaw, my shoulders, my everything to keep things loosey goosey and hopefully encourage my cervix to do the same. 

After an hour of making fun of babies dressed as cabbages and squirrels and breathing through intensifying butt labor, it was time to be checked again. The moment of truth.

Gabby came in to check me and soon another butt contraction hit. Only this time it was way more uncomfortable because I was lying in the bed getting ready to be checked instead of standing and slow dance squatting with John. So I muttered something ridiculous like, "I just want to poop all my insides out." Gabby looked at me like I was crazy pants. That's seriously what it felt like though. I just wanted to empty all my insides through my bum. I shake my fist at you, butt labor!

By the way, as it turns out, all the butt labor was because one little mister, *coughJohnPaulcough* had his shoulder shoved against my rectum. Gabby pointed out that even though it wasn't pleasant, it was making things more favorable, since he was sitting so dang low. So thanks for that, kiddo. 

Alright, back to the moment of truth. Gabby checked me and...

I was 5cm dilated!

Just as she and Dr. P had predicted! A whole centimeter in an hour!! Gosh, were we glad we didn't just up and go home after our first cervix check. 

From there, we made the easy decision to stay at the hospital. Next, we agreed it was finally time to call our parents to let them know their grandbaby was on his/her way. We tried to be hush hush about the whole labor until we were absolutely sure baby was coming, so that's why we waited so long. We wanted privacy to labor in peace, without excitement buzzing around us or people getting pushy and bugging us about baby's arrival. One of the best decisions we made. 

Next, we called our doula, Amy, and asked her to head to the hospital. She said she'd join us ASAP, and boy were we ready for her because (butt) contractions were getting even more intense!

In the meantime, Gabby was busy getting things ready to transfer us to our labor and delivery room. She gave me my hep-lock IV (just in case I needed fluids or some sort of drug in my system later on) during a contraction (double ouchies!) and then, by 1am we were up and out, headed via wheel chair to the special room where we'd soon meet our precious baby!

To read part 3 click here.