Postpartum

Postpartum. I remember I would hear that word and wonder what it meant exactly. No one really speaks about it, and as a young woman I was not sure what that meant for not just my body, but my womanhood.

I heard the word “postpartum” for the first time it felt like, when my husband and I started taking birthing classes. Our teacher, Carrie, was very animated and the way she described postpartum made me feel scared and curious all at the same time. However, I still didn’t know exactly what to expect. But I guess none of us really do when it’s our first child.

My due date came and went with no signs of the baby. They scheduled me to be induced on April first, one week after my due date, first thing in the morning. Like any first time mom, I was flooded with different emotions. I felt happy, excited, nervous, focused, and spiritually in tune. 24 hours later, I was two centimeters dilated, still a long way to go. Let me tell you, when the nurses and doctors are checking to see how many centimeters dilated you are, it’s not fun. They are jabbing their fingers into your vagina and reaching for your cervix. It was the worst, or so I thought.

My contractions didn’t hit hard until 10:00 PM on April second. When I felt them coming in so sharp that’s when I knew my body was working hard with me to get my baby boy out. I didn’t know how much longer I would be in labor, so I asked for an epidural. If you’re afraid of needles, don’t worry. By the time you’ve felt the contractions, needles are going to seem like nothing. My fear with getting an epidural though was me feeling like I failed because I couldn’t do it all natural, and fear of any complications of getting a needle in my back. Of course, those labor horror stories that you’ve heard from your friend or relative come flooding in. So word of advice, don’t tell a first time expecting mother your tough labor experience unless she asks.

April third 2019 at 7:00 AM they moved me to a delivery room, and said I’d be ready to push in no time. By noon I was pushing with all my might. The idea was to help Makaio start making his way down the birth canal, because he wasn’t moving down on his own. My baby boy didn’t have any plans of even trying to come out. He was very much comfortable in my belly to say the least. After two hours of pushing, my doctor comes in and says “I’m highly suggesting we do a C-Section.” And I say “Yes!” I was so tired by then that a C-Section sounded like music to my ears.

They get me on the operating table and Bryan is right by my side holding my hand. There’s a curtain separating the view of us and my belly, but with the anesthesia and the doctors having fun conversations with us I was chillin. And then it starts; the doctors’ tone of voice changes, they sound concerned. Then all of a sudden, I’m feeling pain. A lot of pain. I’m not sure how to describe it but it’s like if someone was jumping on your stomach on the outside but pulling your stomach from the inside. That’s exactly what was happening. Makaio had done a 180 degree turn on the doctors, again refusing to come out, and faced his butt toward them. They had to push him on the outside of my stomach and pull him from the inside. So much for anesthesia huh!

Finally he came out and was healthy as a horse (he still is, thank God). I was officially in postpartum. For the first day, I did not get up at all. It was like nothing, I was able to eat soon after I got to my recovery room, and I was breastfeeding/bonding with my baby. I felt great. Then day two of postpartum, and I am getting my catheter out. I make a slow attempt to stand up to go use the restroom and I felt like my body got hit by a truck. I barely had strength because I was laying in a bed for four days, and my body had done the toughest and most beautiful thing it could ever do. My nurse talked me through it, told me to take it slow and to not look down but to look forward. I cried with how much pain I was feeling just trying to walk a few feet to the restroom. But in that moment, all you can do is look forward. I finally make it to the toilet, and then the next thing to do is change my mesh underwear and pads (BTW, the mesh underwear is life). I knew I would be bleeding a lot after having my baby, but I was still in shock to see how much blood came out. To sit down on the toilet was painful, to change my underwear was painful, making my way back to the bed was painful, and getting back on the bed was painful. Finally, I was laying down and I thought to myself, “THIS IS POSTPARTUM.”

Little by little, it got a smidge easier to get up and take baby steps. Getting home was no walk in the park either because now, there’s no more nurses or remote controlled beds. Keep in mind I’m still taking baby steps to the restroom to change my adult diaper (because that’s much easier than changing jumbo pads every two hours) and getting on the bed is still painful, but tolerable. Not to mention, my tummy is still big and in the way, because it just doesn’t go right back down after the baby is out. Then you have the baby. You’re figuring him out and he’s figuring us out. The first night back was rough, because Makaio had stopped latching to my breast, so he was mad and hungry. I remember crying to Bryan that night because I felt so helpless. My body was swollen, and I couldn’t figure out how to feed our baby. But like always, he talked me through it. My mom suggested nipple shields, and my sister bought me an electric pump the following morning, which both saved my life. Thankfully, Bryan and I had my mother-in-law to help us out, because at that moment any help is a big help. She would take the baby while I could rest. She even took a few days off to help me at home, because Bryan had to go straight back to work. I couldn’t be anymore grateful for that! Lord knows my body needed all the rest I could get.

Labor is different for everyone but so is postpartum. I feel like postpartum should be spoken about a whole lot more. Yes, it’s icky to talk about, and for whatever reason, society has made us think that if we don’t post or share how wonderful we are doing/looking two days after coming home, then we are failing. But I say screw them! If I want to talk about my adult diaper or how my breasts leaked of colostrum, then I will. If I want me to post about me breastfeeding, then I will, or how beautiful my body looked with my battle scar and stretch marks, then I will. As women, we should be encouraging each other even after the baby has come! All the love and support I received from family and friends really kept me going, especially after I got home. I was reminded that I was going to be a great mom and I was doing a great job. Three months into postpartum now and my body has recovered well. I still have a way to go with getting myself strong again, but in the meantime, I’m enjoying motherhood. So if you’re a new mommy, experienced mommy, mommy of an infant(s), mommy of a toddler(s), mommy of a teenager(s), and so on, I want to remind you that you are doing a wonderful job. You’ve done all that you can, and you continue to do so much for your families and children. You are appreciated.