Hi. I think I had a touch of PPD with my first child. I am a lot more maternal and happy these days! One thing that haunts me a bit is that I never got to give birth naturally and I was not successful with breastfeeding. I also blame myself partially for some of my son's issues (developmental delays) due to the PPD and not "being there" for him mentally. Then I hear horror stories of vaginal tears, incontinence, infertility, etc. and I tell myself that it could have been worse. But I just wanted to feel connected to the millions of women before me who gave birth the real way, etc. I would have loved to have had a midwife or at least try a drug free hospital birth.
Sometimes I just want to get pregnant and have a child for that reason only, but I realize that it is selfish. Especially since it would be very high risk (two c-sections and history of complications and advanced maternal age...I would have to do a home birth and probably wouldn't find anyone to help me).
I had complications with my first and needed a c-section (breech). He seemed breech the whole pregnancy. Same with the second. I just don't think I had enough room in my uterus. I found out after baby number two that I had a double placenta or placental lobe. I suppose that could cause some restriction. They didn't want to do a version, where they turn the baby from the outside, because I didn't have enough amniotic fluid. I had a high risk doc so I just went with his advice. With my second baby, I had an abruption and they took her out via c-section two months early. The abruption was in the lobe part of the uterus which was not supplying vital nutrients and I probably could have kept her in longer...but didn't find that out until after the birth.
With my first baby, even if things went as planned, I don't think I would be able to give birth naturally without being a nervous wreck. I had some health issues that also made natural birth slightly more risky. My doctor downplayed that issue, but my husband and I were scared about it.
I had no contractions that I could feel with my first. With my second, I was only 7 mos pregnant, but started having contractions with the abruption. I loved it. They got a little intense, but I loved it because I knew I would never get to feel the real thing of birth. The last time they checked me I was at about 2 centimeters. That's it.
With breast feeding with my first, I was SO engorged. I went from an AAA cup to who knows what. My c-section was rough and I lost a little more blood than usual according to the doctor. I was in extreme pain, bruised all over abdomen, swollen face and legs, couldn't move or sit up, so I pumped. I was so tired and drugged up (yes, they let me feed him breast milk when I was on major pain killers!) and hated waking up to pump. No wonder my baby slept so much...he was on oxy! So the milk dwindled. I tried to take the herbal remedy to get more supply once I was feeling better, but that didn't work. I didn't want to take the prescription for milk supply because I had a lot of drug reactions in the hospital and was newly allergic to stuff I used to take all the time. I figured we had enough drugs in our system already!
With baby number two, I could only visit her once a day because she was in the hospital NICU for three weeks (which was far from my house and I couldn't drive due to the surgery). I didn't get engorged and could barely pump an ounce. I also had a rash that they couldn't figure out and they thought it might be contageous, so I couldn't kangaroo hold her and I could only pump. The lactation consultant never showed up for our appointment. My milk dwindled quickly and that was it.
I feel like a birth and breastfeeding failure basically. I have a wonderful husband and kids, but I just never got to fulfill something I always wanted to do. And I am not one of these overly maternal, cooking, cleaning, nesting types. I am super lazy and selfish and adjusting to motherhood was very hard for me. That, along with the PPD I had first time around caused me to not be there for my son sometimes. So of course, whatever issues he has now, I partially blame myself for. I manage to keep a positive attitude and find happiness and beauty in my boring every day life and appreciate all the little things and count my blessings...but it still bothers me. I see all these people suffering through fertility treatment, failed pregnancies, adoption horror stories, etc. and I do feel blessed...but it still bugs me. Anyone else know what I mean? Anyone else feel some sort of failure or blame themselves for things that may not be their fault?
Sometimes I just want to get pregnant and have a child for that reason only, but I realize that it is selfish. Especially since it would be very high risk (two c-sections and history of complications and advanced maternal age...I would have to do a home birth and probably wouldn't find anyone to help me).
I had complications with my first and needed a c-section (breech). He seemed breech the whole pregnancy. Same with the second. I just don't think I had enough room in my uterus. I found out after baby number two that I had a double placenta or placental lobe. I suppose that could cause some restriction. They didn't want to do a version, where they turn the baby from the outside, because I didn't have enough amniotic fluid. I had a high risk doc so I just went with his advice. With my second baby, I had an abruption and they took her out via c-section two months early. The abruption was in the lobe part of the uterus which was not supplying vital nutrients and I probably could have kept her in longer...but didn't find that out until after the birth.
With my first baby, even if things went as planned, I don't think I would be able to give birth naturally without being a nervous wreck. I had some health issues that also made natural birth slightly more risky. My doctor downplayed that issue, but my husband and I were scared about it.
I had no contractions that I could feel with my first. With my second, I was only 7 mos pregnant, but started having contractions with the abruption. I loved it. They got a little intense, but I loved it because I knew I would never get to feel the real thing of birth. The last time they checked me I was at about 2 centimeters. That's it.
With breast feeding with my first, I was SO engorged. I went from an AAA cup to who knows what. My c-section was rough and I lost a little more blood than usual according to the doctor. I was in extreme pain, bruised all over abdomen, swollen face and legs, couldn't move or sit up, so I pumped. I was so tired and drugged up (yes, they let me feed him breast milk when I was on major pain killers!) and hated waking up to pump. No wonder my baby slept so much...he was on oxy! So the milk dwindled. I tried to take the herbal remedy to get more supply once I was feeling better, but that didn't work. I didn't want to take the prescription for milk supply because I had a lot of drug reactions in the hospital and was newly allergic to stuff I used to take all the time. I figured we had enough drugs in our system already!
With baby number two, I could only visit her once a day because she was in the hospital NICU for three weeks (which was far from my house and I couldn't drive due to the surgery). I didn't get engorged and could barely pump an ounce. I also had a rash that they couldn't figure out and they thought it might be contageous, so I couldn't kangaroo hold her and I could only pump. The lactation consultant never showed up for our appointment. My milk dwindled quickly and that was it.
I feel like a birth and breastfeeding failure basically. I have a wonderful husband and kids, but I just never got to fulfill something I always wanted to do. And I am not one of these overly maternal, cooking, cleaning, nesting types. I am super lazy and selfish and adjusting to motherhood was very hard for me. That, along with the PPD I had first time around caused me to not be there for my son sometimes. So of course, whatever issues he has now, I partially blame myself for. I manage to keep a positive attitude and find happiness and beauty in my boring every day life and appreciate all the little things and count my blessings...but it still bothers me. I see all these people suffering through fertility treatment, failed pregnancies, adoption horror stories, etc. and I do feel blessed...but it still bugs me. Anyone else know what I mean? Anyone else feel some sort of failure or blame themselves for things that may not be their fault?
