(continued from The Fear of Another and The Plan…)

Thanksgiving Day.  Somehow I knew.

My parents and my brother and his family were in town for a dual purpose – celebrate Thanksgiving and to be here to help out at the baby’s arrival which would be anytime.

My son was born at Week 39, Day 1, and I went into labor in the wee hours of the morning. 

Thanksgiving Day:  Week 39, Day 1.  Wee hours of the morning.

Contractions were fairly strong but very irregular around 4 or 5am.  I tried to sleep, but that is relatively impossible when your body has waves of pain every 5 to 10 minutes.  

But everything changed at 6:29am.  Oh yes, I remember the time.  Vividly.

And it was the wee hours of the morning.  Week 39.  Day 1.  Again.  What are the chances, really?  I laugh about it now.

At 6:29am, my contractions suddenly were precisely three minutes apart.  I kicked Chris out of bed and called my doctor who said without hesitating to head in to the hospital.  You think this girl was hesitating?  Please!

I had an epidural in my sights.  It was in my plan, people!

While Chris showered as fast as he ever has in his life and dressed, my brother timed my contractions and was kind enough to even take a picture.  Its horrid, but I cannot seem to bring myself to delete it.  Hmmmm, my daughter might want to see it one day…when she’s pregnant, or actually maybe AFTER she has a baby…don’t want to scare her.

I am so THANKful it was THANKsgiving Day.  No rush hour traffic to deal with.  We headed to the hospital, only 15 minutes away or so.  The loooooooongest fifteen minutes of life…and wouldn’t you know there were railroad tracks between there and here.  Uh, huh.  No fun.  

Chris dropped me at the door to the Family Birth Center because there was no way I was walking that far and I headed upstairs to triage.  They buzzed me in, and lo and behold, guess who was standing right there?

God is so good.

The very same nurse who cared for me when I had my son – both when I delivered him and when I was subsequently hospitalized for the depression.   She took one look at me and told the other lady, “She’s my patient – give mine to someone else.”  

Oh, thank you, Lord!  Someone who knows me!

My doctor had not warned them I was coming, but it was pretty clear that this was not false labor.  She checked me and I was already 6.5 cm.  Seriously?!  I’m thinking I wanted an epidural yesterday.  My plan, my plan!

Labor moved fast.  Nurses hooking me up, another asking me questions – did I want a tubal ligation?  What?!  You’re asking me NOW?  “Yes!  No!  Yes!  No!  Wait!  I don’t know!” I said between clenched teeth.  Somewhere in there, I’m told I even hit my husband.  

Before anyone even thinks I was unkind, the momentary pain I could cause by a hit I delivered in no way could ever equal the pain I felt at that moment.  He’s fine.  Did I mention I have a low pain threshold?  The anesthieologist walked in and I almost kissed her, I was so glad to see her.  I was given the epidural, but my plan didn’t seem to work…

My labor was moving too fast for it to work.

Um, God, not part of my plan, remember?

My doctor came in and I remember apologizing to him for bothering him on Thanksgiving Day.  Fortunately, I had him home by mid morning.  My daughter came quite quickly a little after 9am.  I felt every bit of it.  Whew.  

And I survived.  :)

Oh, what a different experience than when I had my son!  Physically, this birth was so much better, even without a working epidural.  I’ll spare you the details, but I was in considerable pain after having my son…this time, it was so different.  My body seemed to bounce back much more quickly.  Additionally, because it was Thanksgiving, there were not many people at the hospital and we got to stay in the big comfy room instead of being moved to a smaller room.  We had made the choice to bottlefeed from the beginning, and it did wonders for me to get sleep immediately.  I would not feel ashamed this time.

Admittedly, in the next two days, the anxiety crept up on me.  I felt strange, almost disembodied, in the middle of the night.  And very anxious.  I told my nurse, who knew me and what had happened before, and she immediately knew what to do and got the prescriptions necessary.  The day we went home, the nurse who discharged me was educating me on PPD symptoms.  I just smiled.  I was glad to hear them, because that means she tells others.  But I did stop her and told her I know…I know very well.

At home, I had my private space in my bedroom.  I used my relaxation baskets  - oh, I was so glad I had prepared those!  It saved so much work and quick trips to Target for my husband.  It was all right there, ready to go.  

And I slept.   My husband was adament that I get my sleep, he knew this was vital to my mental well-being.  He watched out for me.  Our bedroom was my sanctuary when I felt overwhelmed.  I loved that.

As the weeks went on, family came and went, came and went.  We used the frozen meals I had prepared in advance, or they cooked.  Again, I was so glad I had done that bit of preparation as well.   My son was entertained as he adjusted to our new family.  

Conclusion:  All glory to my God –  the prayers of many and the preparation we had done had worked for us.  I felt like our previous experience had been redeemed.  I treasured each precious moment with my daughter.  These were memories I did not have of my son, but I wanted them burned into my mind with her.  So I could “remember” both.  

Admittedly, there were some challenging times.  Being a stay-at-home mom of a toddler and a baby was not easy in the least.  Oh my word!  Balancing one then the other and prioritizing needs was a challenge.  I was also learning what “normal” was like.  I relied on my mommy-friends to help me know – was what I was feeling normal frustration?  was it extreme?  was this normal?  or that normal?  It was comforting to know I was on the right track.  

I stayed on my medication, attended MOPS, a women’s Bible study, walked when possible, and took it day by day.  

It felt good.  Thank you, Lord, thank you, thank you, thank you! 

Next:  From Then Until Today

Pregnancy/Baby After PPD

(continued from The Fear of Another)

I was now pregnant with my second child, scared beyond words that the horrible postpartum depression would return when I delivered this baby.  How in the world would I make this second experience better? 

I had to plan carefully.  I had to arm myself with knowledge and preparation. 

I knew that it was a possibility that PPD would not happen again, but chances were slim because it had happened already with the first.  I was already on an anti-depressant when I found out I was pregnant so with my doctor’s advice and recommendation, it was decided I would stay on the medication through my pregnancy.  The risk of relapse into a prenatal depression if I weaned off the drug at this point was too great. 

The process of planning was actually very helpful in helping me to cope with my fear and trepidation.  I felt like it gave me some level of control, gave my mind something to focus on, and it kept me busy – well, that and a toddler kept me plenty busy!

This pregnancy was no easier than the first and, in fact, more troublesome symptoms appeared – migraines, constant morning sickness (minus about six weeks in the middle), back pain, and restless leg syndrome.  Nice…restless legs alone are enough to make a person sleepless and anxious, but I had to rely on Christ and what I knew:

This was only temporary, God had me in the palm of His Hand, and He would give me just the strength I needed to get through each moment. 

One thing that we did differently than the first pregnancy was to find out the sex of the baby.  We found out we were having a girl and we had a name picked out and I believe this helped me, personally, to start bonding with my baby right away.  With the first, we did not find out the sex and I am not sure I did myself any favors by doing that, in hindsight.  Do not get me wrong – I am NOT implying that that is in any way a generalized trigger for PPD, but I do believe that for me and my personality it could have been.

So, my plan…here are a list of the many things I did to help prepare for my family, myself, and the baby’s arrival to minimize any onset of postpartum depression.  I hope I remember them all!  If not, I’ll come back and add to the list periodically…

1. Had a schedule of family and friends to be here helping out up to six weeks following S’s birth.
2. Activities and a gift planned for G so help him feel included and cared for and loved by everyone.
3. During my pregnancy, when I would make certain dinners, I would cook double portions and freeze the second portion to thaw and eat following S’s birth.
4. Discussed a signal with my husband to use when I needed time to myself, when I could escape to my room to relax and stem off an anxiety attack.
5. Made it a rule that after S was born and when we had guests, our master bedroom would be my sanctuary – my place of retreat.  No one was allowed back there but myself and my husband.  It gave me a safe place to be.
6. Enlisted close friends to cover me in prayer and a few who I relied upon to call and talk to about what I was feeling when I needed to – with their permission ahead of time.
7. Gathered a list of counselors I could call and get an appointment with in case I needed it.
8. Made a plan with my OB regarding my anti-depressant medication:  Because I, personally, would not be breastfeeding, I would need to wean down my medication as we got close to birth then as soon as S was delivered begin my medication again immediately.  I may have anti-anxiety meds if needed.  You may want to discuss the need for sleep medication – insomnia was not one of my symptoms but it is a very common symptom that most women will need to plan for.
9. We made the decision to bottlefeed right away – this was the right decision for me and our family for a variety of reasons.  For some women, breastfeeding is their lifeline through PPD, and for some it is a hindrance.  I am of the latter category.  I am happy to share my reasons why, but please know that no matter what you decide, you are an excellent mother and your baby will be healthy and whole.  Either way, choose your course and if you choose to breastfeed, I suggest going into it with an open mind in the event you are unable to.  I struggled greatly when I could not breastfeed, thinking I was a failure as a woman and mom.  Know that you are not a failure no matter what route you choose.
10. I prepared my relaxation basket:  iPod or favorite CDs, a novel, magazine, journal, devotional, Bible, Scripture notecards, candles, photos, etc.  You can use anything that brings comfort and relaxation to you.
11. I prepared a self-care basket for the bathroom.  If you’ve had a baby before (vaginally) you’ll know what I’m referring to.  You’ll need Colace, Ibuprofen, Tucks pads, Dermoplast spray, sanitary napkins, rinse-spray bottle (you’ll bring it home from the hospital), magazine, etc. 
12. Once able to take a bath, prepared bath items:  bubble bath, lotions, body spray, etc.
13. Relaxation CD and headphones.  I had one from a therapist after my first baby.  It was a huge help to me.  I put it next to my bed with headphones prior to S’s birth. 
14. Stocked up on easy-to-digest snacks and healthy foods for all of us, especially myself.
15. Exercise – NOW.  As long as your doctor approves it, exercise is excellent for your mental health.  Admittedly, I was not so good about this – does chasing a toddler count?  I tried to walk as much as I could.
16. Nutrition – eating healthy and balanced diet is also excellent for your mental health.  Be sure to be taking all your necessary vitamins as well.  This was hard for me because my goal was usually to eat what I could keep down, but it is very important.
17. Sleep!  My restless legs were quite a hindrance, but it was part of my routine to take a nap when my son did everyday.
18. I worked hard to establish a mind-set that my routine would once-again go out the window and I had to accept that that would be ok.  I am a perfectionist and routine-oriented in some parts of my life, and this was one my triggers for my PPD after my son. 
19. Looked ahead at what bills would need to be paid and either set them up on auto-pay or made notes for my husband to do so.  (I am the budgeter in my family.)
20. Educated my husband, friends, and family about what to watch for in me. 
21. Prepared Scripture notecards of my favorite encouraging Scriptures to keep with me and read through.
22. Prayer!  And lots of it…

That is a lot of what I did to prepare.  If I think of more I will add them to the list (and date them so you know they were added later).  I hope they help!  If you have any questions or more suggestions that would work for you, please feel free to comment!  I also have an article here on the main ministry website about planning and prevention. 

Next:  When S was born, what actually happened…

Pregnancy/Baby After PPD

Another baby.

No way on God’s green earth was I going to have another baby after what I had gone through.  Sure, we talked about it, debated it, prayed about it.  As for myself, I prayed half-heartedly if I prayed at all.  I was not interested in God’s answer.  I had no control over what happened to me the first time, so I surely was going to control whether it happened again.

God thought otherwise and had much better plans than I did, thankfully.

When our son was about 14 months old, we made a “final” decision to not have any more children.  The stress of possibly going through PPD again was too much for both of us.  That same night, friends of ours came over for dinner.  My friend M had just found out she was pregnant with her third and was pretty surprised with it as well.  We chatted and I joked about our decision to not have any more kids, then dumped on her all my pregnancy stuff – books, clothes, everything.  Chris joked about the same thing with her husband, S. 

The next morning, a Sunday morning, we were all up around 6am and it dawned on me that I had not had my period in a while and my breasts were a little more sore than they should have been. 

Naaaaaaaah.  But maybe I’ll take a quick test to make sure…  (Previously infertile women are never without a pregnancy test.) 

It was instantly positive.  No need to wait the dreaded three minutes. 

“Seriously, God?  We just decided last night to not have any more kids and I was pregnant all along?!” 

I stuttered and stumbled my way out to the living room to tell my husband who declared it had to be wrong.  I proceeded to make a run to the 24-hour drugstore at 6am just to confirm what I already knew with not one but three tests.  I even splurged on the no-brainer digital read-out test in case morning fog was still clouding my brain.

We were pregnant. 

I was terrified.  Shaking.  Crying.  Scared.  Excited.  Stunned.  Nervous.  Did I mention terrified?

We somehow managed to get ready for church where I saw my friend, M.  I looked at her and the first words out of my mouth were, “I need my stuff back.”  I think her eyes bugged out of her head and her mouth dropped open as she said, “NO!”  Not meaning “no” as in she wouldn’t give it to me, but meaning “no” as in she immediately understood what I was saying and was just as stunned as we were.  We still laugh about it. 

So now what?  Here we were, a toddler in our arms, just over PPD, I had just launched this ministry, and now this?  I could not believe it.  I knew what infertility was like, now I knew what a surprise was like.  But how do I do it?  How could I go through this again?   I am not a happy pregnant woman – lots of puking and migraines – and I dreaded nine months of that again as well.  But, my faith in Christ buoyed me.  My God had His plan.  He is the Author of life and He knows what He is doing.  I would rely on Him.

And I had to plan.  Very carefully.  It was one thing I did have control over.

Next:  The Plan…

Pregnancy/Baby After PPD