Monday, February 6, 2012

little black bag and looking back

I came to work today without my little black bag. Medela-pump-in-style-on-the-go-tote. I haven't been anywhere without you in a year. Today feels so strange, but I'm not sure how to describe it. Most of me is terribly relieved to be freed from this demanding schedule. Every thought I've had in the last year was followed by a secondary thought of when I could get back to my office to pump. Can it really be over?

When I stopped my first year of pumping, I was pregnant. So thankful for a break from the cycle I was about to re-start. This time? Different. Seeing those yellow capped bottles in my mini fridge was constant reassurance that even though I was away from her, I was still with her.

I can hardly believe one year ago I was big and pregnant and dying to meet our new little one. I was so shocked she was a girl. I wanted a girl so bad, and I think I tried to convince myself it was a boy so I wouldn't be disappointed (that's not really the right word, but I can't think of a better one).  Labor was the most physically challenging thing I have ever done in my life. It was the first time I had ever been away from Tripp overnight.

The epidural was much more painful that I would've imagined. The first attempt was unsuccessful. It hurt so bad I couldn't talk and was signaling to the nurse and Jase where the pain was. He took it out and started over. I was expecting instant relief, but never got it. I eventually got about a 30 minute break, but the pain came right back. They don't tell you that epidurals don't work 10% of the time. Who cares what the statistics are when it happens to you??

When Jase walked out of the room to hang with Tripp in the hall, the nurse tried to roll me from my left to my right side to help with my blood pressure. Frannie's heart rate dropped in half immediately. They quickly rolled me back, hooked me up to oxygen, got a heart monitor in there with her, and paged the doctor. They said she had about 30 seconds to get her heart rate back up before they wheeled me into the OR for a C-section. It went back up. Jase was gone for less than 5 minutes, and walked back into a different room. His face didn't show how scared he was. I knew when he started talking.

When it was time to push, Dr. Crawford was not there yet. They made us wait for a doctor since her HR had been dicey and it was a VBAC. I thought not pushing was intense. But then he showed up and we got to the pushing. Jase was a fantastic coach and counter, and he kept shushing the nurses and everyone else during my contractions because they were driving my crazy. I never told him, but he knew anyway.

I think I had to "push" through 10 or 12 contractions. Jase probably remembers better. I will always be grateful I got to go through it all with Jase by my side. In the end, all that mattered was that she was here. "Baby amnesia" is a real thing. They make you forget the pain (mostly). I once heard a quote that went something like this: The only way you can get a woman to go through this, and practically tear her body in half, is to promise her a baby at the end. (totally true)

I am so grateful EVERY single day for my babies. I still can't believe Frannie will be one year old on Friday. 

“There is never enough time to do everything, but there is always enough time to do the most important thing.”
~Brian Tracy

So long little black bag. We had a good run.