Life of a NICU mom - part 2

Astronomom describes a feeling of loss over the "normal" birth experience that could have been. Her words are so on the mark with how I feel, it is uncanny. It's been nearly six months (!) since my wee one was born, and reflecting on my birth experience still saddens me, despite that the wee one is a smiley, wonderful part of my world now.

And it makes me mad that I can't seem to let go of this pain. Why can't I just get over it? So what if there were no balloons, flowers or visitors when wee one was born? So what if the physical separation of mama and baby, along with a case of post partum pre-eclampsia (yes, it happens, apparently) meant I would only get to enjoy the bond of breast feeding so few times? So what if the wee one is now followed regularly by nine specialists and two therapists?

I can sort of understand why some of it is hard to get over. Some things, like the myriad of specialist appointments , tests and therapy sessions for the wee one are ongoing events in my life that completely fill our calendar. For selfish reasons, I wish for normalcy - just well visit check ups with the pediatrician would be such a relief to my worried brain, and my schedule. But most of all I just wish the wee one was healthy enough not to need all of this medical attention - she is such an amazing little person, I wish she didn't have to go through all of this. I wish she could have more time to just be herself. Less poking and prodding.

The lack of breastfeeding sometimes gets to me. I felt like such a failure when I finally gave up pumping. Upon leaving the NICU, the wee one was being breastfed, but I was just barely able to produce the amount she needed. I was put on lasix to manage a sudden sky rocket in my blood pressure postpartum (pre-eclamsia they suspect), and I think that had a negative effect on my milk supply. In any case, we soon discovered that the wee one had feeding difficulties in general (common with some of the medical issues she has), and was losing weight (this was after the initial weight loss after birth, and back up to her birth weight in the hospital - in other words, losing weight at that point was very scary!).

She was then diagnosed with "failure to thrive" - an umbrella term for all those who have difficulty gaining weight. So the doctors had us switch to formula to see if she could gain weight on a diet with known caloric input (can't do that even with breastmilk in the bottle). Of course that's when she started showing increased signs of reflux, so she had to be put on a hypoallergenic formula. Happily, however, she started gaining weight! And she was able to take larger volumes than she had even with breastmilk by bottle.

At the time I was still pumping and storing my milk in the hopes that once we had the reflux and weight gain under control, she might be able to resume breastfeeding. But my supply never increased. She was soon eating double what I could produce. And her feeding therapist said it was a miracle that we were able to get her to feed so well at all and gain any weight, considering all of the wee one's feeding and breathing difficulties. I was worn ragged from all the pumping (either both Mr. Daybyday and I were awake for every single feeding, or I was feeding her and then pumping afterwards which left me with less than 2 hours of sleep at a time between feedings).

I finally decided to stop pumping after my mother stayed with us to help, and I would be crying as I pumped and my mom (or Mr. Daybyday) fed the wee one. I wanted so bad to be holding the wee one instead of watching her while I pumped - and I didn't even know if she'd ever be able to use the breast milk anyway because at that time we didn't know what was causing her reflux (food allergy or physiological problem).

My mom said, "You can't keep this up. It is making you miserable, and I'm worried that it is going to make you sick. Wee one will be better off with a happy and healthy mama than a constantly exhausted and miserable mama with breastmilk." And I knew she was right. But it was still hard to finally decide to give up pumping. It was like I needed permission. I was so worried people would think I was being selfish.

Even now, when people ask me "Are you breastfeeding?" I get really tired of feeling like I have to tell the whole story of why we're not anymore.

Maybe I should change the title of this post to something about breastfeeding, as I've spent so much time here talking about it!

I'm starting to at least get over the sense of loss for the breastfeeding - there are definite perks, like more sleep when Mr. Daybyday handles a feeding through the night on his own. And I'm no longer feeling rushed when I do feed the wee one, because there is no pumping to get done afterwards. So I just get to enjoy feeding my baby. That's how it should be.

I do, however, still feel overwhelmed by all of the ongoing medical stuff. But that's a lot to get into all in one post, so I think I'll finish up here, and leave you, instead, with a recent picture of wee one.


It's hard to be too sad with that happy little face smiling back at me!