Okay, okay. I know I'm not actually pregnant anymore, but I thought I'd share how this last week has been going for me, physically and mentally. Then, I promise I'll stop with these weekly updates.
I've totally fallen in love all over again, which has made anything else I've been going through totally worth it. I thought, given that Gavin is my second child, maybe I wouldn't want to just sit and hold him and stare at him night and day, but I totally do. I am one smitten kitten. He is so perfect and laid back and the everything we could hope for in a new addition to our family.
As for how I've been feeling, physically. Eh, pretty good. Considering I just shot a baby out of my lady business like a canon. I'm still extremely sore, you know, down there. Walking or standing for any extended period of time gets really uncomfortable, so I have to try to remind myself to sit down regularly. I was super crampy for the first few days, but that has almost completely stopped now.
Now, for my boobs. They are broken. I tried pumping this past week. One day, I got about a half ounce total at one sitting. I was ecstatic. I thought it was the beginning of a good thing. Then about two or three hours later I pumped again, and got a little less. Two hours after that the milk barely even covered the bottom of the bottle. Every time I pumped after that I got less and less, until absolutely nothing came out. Not. One. Drop. I can't say I understand why. I continued pumping, like I should have. My milk came in and I was engorged, but nothing came out. I'm also not going to lie and say that I'm terrible surprised OR terribly disappointed. I went into this not even sure if I wanted to pump or breastfeed at all, so I'm proud of myself for even trying. It didn't work out. It's okay.
I've been feeling pretty good, emotionally, this week. Much better than when I had Jackson. I guess with Jackson I was so overwhelmed with everything and I wasn't expecting it. This time I was prepared to be overwhelmed and I'm really not. My extremely fast labor is really the only thing that has been bothering me. Don't get me wrong. I'm am so very grateful that I had a successful labor and delivery and that Gavin and I are both just fine and healthy. But after doing a little research on the ever reliable Google, I found out just how scary that situation was and how wrong it could have gone. Apparently, I had what is called a "precipitous labor". It's a medical term for a fast labor, 3 hours or less from start to finish, and it happens in about 2% of all labors. I definitely fit into that 2%. As great as it must sound to some people, especially for women who have had really long labors, it can be quite dangerous, and is definitely not an ideal situation for moms or babies. Google told me all about the increased risk of cervical lacerations, tearing, hemorrhaging, emotional distress and mother's loss of ability to cope with labor, hypoxia from intense contractions, fetal distress, and cerebral or lung damage to the baby from going through the birth canal too fast. Those are scary things. And, thankfully, none of those things happened to us. But it really was very traumatic and intense, and not something I'll ever forget about. It's been hard to not think about it. And hard to not think of "what ifs". The biggest "what if" would be "what if I get pregnant again?" Seriously. I'm not interested in having a home birth. And although it's completely useless to even think about that at this point, as I have no intention of getting pregnant again anytime soon, those thoughts are definitely creeping into my mind here and there. Fortunately, I have time on my side. Time to forget just a little bit. And time to decide if we do want to have another baby.
But all in all, I would say that I'm feeling pretty good. I feel ready to get out of the house more and be active. I just need to wait for my body to catch up to my mind.