I Thought We Were In The Home Stretch

With the acid reflux.  But no.  Little C had her 2 month check up on Monday.  Things went well.  She is in the 60-75th percentiles for height & weight and 90% for head size, which Dr. L said was just fine.  She has that nice, round c-section head shape.  Anyway, we discussed her crying/colic situation.  And he saw it first hand for himself.  It is his opinion that even though the gas issue has improved that she is hypersensitive.  Meaning she will cry at the drop of a hat if she is disturbed.  He told me not to worry and that most babies do grow out of this at about 3-4 months.  So, we will see, we've 4-6 more weeks to go.  He reflux seemed to be getting under control until Tuesday night.  It was horrible.  She was spitting up every single time I burped her, bringing it through her nose and then going into a flat out panic, squeezing her eyes shut, shaking, unable to catch her breath and then finally screaming hysterically.  Even after the episode was over I noticed her squeezing her hands tightly into fists, arching her back and throwing her legs straight out, literally she probably could have stood straight up if I had been holding her that way, while she screamed.  Not cried.  Oh no.  This was flat out hysterical, panicked screaming that clearly says, "Something is wrong."  It was the kind of scream where you knew immediately it meant "I am in pain."  I couldn't get her to eat any more formula either.  I finally got her settled down and she did sleep through the night.  She awoke at 4:30am and drank her whole 4 ounce bottle and we had no problems.  I was relieved.

Then came later that morning.  I tried to feed her again at 8:30am.  The same thing happened.  She drank, burped and spit up bringing it through her nose, panicked, screamed, cried and continued writhing in pain, refusing to drink any additional formula.  I called the pediatrician and told him what was going on.  He told me to stop the Zantac and called in a script for Prevacid.  Hoping this will remedy her problem.  I do too.  Things have been unchanged thus far, but she has only had 2 doses.  I worry that I can't get her to drink more than 2-3 ounces at a feeding.  She is clearly not herself.  And although she may be hypersensitive and crying a lot, she is still my sweet girl and I want her crying because she can cry, not because she is in pain.

This is a real blow for me considering the PPD.  The feelings of being inadequate and worthless as a mother did rear their ugly heads yesterday.  It happened during the time that Little C was screaming and crying so hard that I broke down and I cried with her.  I yelled at God and asked why He was doing this to me, to immediately apologize to Him and again feel guilty and shameful over my outburst and inability to control myself from yelling like a loon at the crucifix on my wall.  I looked at my screaming baby, in obvious pain and distress and could do nothing.  Nothing.  I can't make this go away.  Helpless.  I can't even soothe her when she gets like this.  She almost has to cry herself out because she gets into such hysterics and that also scares me.  I don't want my baby doing this to herself day after day.

I've also got other things going on that isn't helping my situation.  The dog with cancer is at the vet.  I'm waiting to hear back from him as I type this.  While I was at the pediatrician with Little C on Monday, my brother called me to tell me, Savannah...my very old Bulldog died.  Granted I know she was old, less than 2 months shy of her 14th birthday, which is unheard of in Bulldogs.  Still, it was something I wish wouldn't have had to happen NOW.  And I don't even want to get into the situation with one of the horses.  Ugh...she really gouged herself up and so I've been playing veterinarian to her as well.  Having to come in and shower before I can touch my kids because I certainly am not going to transmit any kind of infection/bacteria from the animals outside to my kids.  Again, it would have been nice if this didn't happen at all...but especially not now.

Oh and I also didn't mention my father getting into a car accident on Saturday.  He was rear ended by a driver in a SUV who was then hit by the car behind him.  My dad was waiting to make a turn when the guy behind him tried to go around him, he must have been in a big hurry and plowed into the back of my dad's car.  Its an old car...a 1986 Buick.  So there was no collision on it.  And they are going to total it since it can't be driven.  If they decide they can fix it I'll be very surprised.  My Dad hit his head, blacked out for a few minutes and had a good bit of bleeding.  But he refused treatment saying with was only a scratch and that he was fine.  I begged him to let me take him to the hospital or to an urgent care facility at least.  And he refused...telling me he didn't want to hear any more about it.  My Dad is 71.  He is the only grandparent these kids really have as my in-laws are 3,000 miles away in Oregon and my mother is dead.  Big C adores my father.  This has been stressing me out.  I love my father and he is the only parent I have left as well.  I don't want anything happening to him because of his stubborness and refusal to see a doctor.  Especially if it could have been avoided altogether.  But what else can I do?  I can't *make* him.  And I tried.  I laid guilt trips on him and everything and he won't budge.

I so need to find the strength to get us all through this.  Now if only someone could drop a big chunk of it in my lap for me.

OK, So Here it Goes

I normally don't discuss very private things on my blog.  But this time, I'm going to.  I touched on it a little in a previous post.  I've been suspicious for a while, but after seeing and talking with my OB today, I'm ready to admit it publicly because I think it needs to be done in order to help others.  I'd like to thank Heir To Blair first though, for giving me the courage to come forward by displaying courage of her own to also come forward in an attempt to help bring about more awareness of this condition.

I have Postpartum Depression.  At first I thought it was just "baby blues" and waited for it to get better.  It didn't.  The more I try to compare my last pregnancy with this one I am realizing that I probably had it to some degree with my first child as well, perhaps I was just not as aware as I am now.  I became pregnant with Little C just 6 months after Big C was born.  During the course of my pregnancy I cried. A lot.  I just thought it was normal pregnancy hormones coupled with the additional responsibility of taking care of my infant son.  I kept telling myself that things would be better after Little C was born.  Boy, was I sorely mistaken.

I've always been somewhat neurotic, a compulsive worry wart.  At times, pre babies it would come on strong, usually when family members were ill or when I had a litter of puppies to raise.  During this pregnancy with Little C, I hadn't noticed how out of control it had become.  I would check on Big C constantly.  While he took naps or at bedtime I was so terrified that he was going to stop breathing that the constant checking in on him would wake him up.  After moving Big C to his crib in his own room, which is right next to ours, I would lay at night with the monitor pressed to my ear listening making sure I could hear him breathe. I kept the lamp on in my room while he was in there so I could see him and make it easier to get up for feedings through the night.  After he moved into his crib, I continued to leave the lamp on in my room.  Months later and I couldn't bring myself to turn it off.  As if leaving that lamp light on would somehow get me to him faster if something was happening in his room.  That lamp is still lit every night.

I won't bore you with every detail, but the idea of having PPD didn't really come to mind until after Little C was born.  I was am still crying a lot.  I just assumed that it was the postpartum hormone crash mixed with all the things I have going on right now that was making me feel like I was losing my mind.  I mean having my dad & brother both with medical problems, a tantrum throwing 16 month old to run after, a screaming baby with unresolved colic issues, a husband who is gone for 14.5 hours a day, in-laws visiting for 2 weeks, the baby's baptism, having my old tub/shower ripped out and new one put in, PECO energy destroying my property value and appearance not to mention my memories by hacking down my tree lined driveway and running to doctor appointments could bring anyone to tears, right?  Oh, and my vet called yesterday to tell me one of my dogs, Martha has lymphoma and a mass in her chest and that it is probably too late to do anything and she'll be dead soon.  Oh!  And I forgot...its also Mother's Day this weekend!  Yeah, it's going to be a wonderful day for me.  My mother will be dead 13 years next month so I'll be visiting her grave this Sunday.  I really could go on, but why?

The continued crying and meltdown moments are draining.  But what really gets to me is feeling so out of control, overwhelmed and inadequate.  This is so hard.  I look at my screaming baby and some days I am super mom and I am rocking her and soothing her with the best of them.  I am so in tune to her needs and cues that I can just about read her mind and it is a really good day.  Other times all I do is stare at her blankly while she screams and screams.  And still there are other times, and these are the most difficult and I am embarrassed to even type it out, that I just can't take the screaming any more and I scream back at her to just stop screaming or shut up already!  I snap at Big C when he is doing something I don't want him to do or if he is whining about something and....the way he looks at me when I yell at him, his little eyes fill up and his bottom lip quivers....it just kills me inside.  Immediately after I yell at either of them I grab them up and hold them too me crying and telling them I'm so sorry over and over, apologizing for being such a horrible mother.  The guilt is overwhelming and I just crumple into a sobbing mess.

I do NOT want to harm myself or my babies at all.  Those thoughts have not crossed my mind in the least.  I have never felt detached from my babies.  Never had the feelings of disinterest.  In fact, I am just the opposite.  Some might say I am obsessed.  I have to be everything to them, even if that means sacrificing my relationships with others.  My husband & I have not been out alone since before Big C was born.  I just can't bear to leave them.  I know it sounds so cliche to many moms who are out working and don't want to leave their babies.  This has nothing to do with that.  Me personally...I can't leave them.  I want to go do things on my own, have a date with my husband or a night with my friends.  But I can't.  Not without being miserable and worrying the entire time.  And I have tried.  In rare instances I will leave them with my husband to get something done.  And then I'm calling home all the time checking on them and making him insane.  Other times I've left them, I've felt guilty, worrisome and I loathe myself for it.

Speaking of husbands, mine is amazing.  He really is wonderful with our son and he adores his little girl.  When my day has me stretched to the limit and I'm ready to hand Little C off to him after he gets home, I don't.  I need a break from the screaming and I want to spend some time with my son, but when he asks me if I want him to take her I tell him, "No, I'm fine I got her."  Then, I get pissed at him for not taking her and giving me a break.  WTF?  Do you see the insanity I am living with right now?

Is it PPD or something more?  I don't know.  I probably should seek therapy for it.  But for right now, I'm going to take the advice of my doctor.  I've been too proud to admit that I need help.  Or perhaps I've just been too afraid to ask for it.  I hate the idea of taking medication for something I feel I should be able to handle on my own.  It makes me feel weak and inferior as a mother.  But I can't don't want to go another day like I have been.  So I have finally swallowed my pride and asked for help.  I'm hoping that I'll be a better mother for it.

My Lame Attempt To Catch Up

I know I've been absent for a while.  Mostly because I gave birth to this little chubby person 3 weeks ago. 

Well, that and taking care of this little chubby person that I gave birth to 15 months ago.

 
Along with said baby who is a handful herself.  My Little C has gas.  Like...major gas.  She could rival any frat boy's bum.  This in turn makes her extremely unhappy.  I kid you not, her screams...not crying, but her screams are ear shattering.  I'm convinced that I'll be deaf in the right ear if this continues for 3 more weeks because after an hour of said screaming mixed with crying, I can't hear a thing from that ear.

I'll pound out a birth story for Little C at some point, right now I just don't have the energy.  Hey, some of you might want to read it.  It contains having an anxiety attack and hyperventilating in the OR while being prepped for my c-section.  Yeah to the point where I was a might bit hysterical and trying to claw my way off the table....egads...that wasn't supposed to happen!  But, that's for another day.  For right now I'm just going to try to catch up on the other happenings.

A few days after Little C was born, my uncle died.  He was battling cancer of various types, but it was the brain cancer that finally ended his life.  While in recent years I hadn't been super close to him, I was before my Mom died.  He took me fishing where I caught my first fish, bought my brother and I bunnies on Easter and left me with many fine memories.  Like the time while at Easter dinner at their house I had been given a little stuffed chicken who was hatching from an egg.  Uncle Al promptly took it from me, lifted his leg and pretended to fart on it.  I think I was 4 or 5 years old.  I burst into tears and was convinced that he really did fart on my chicken and that now it was going to smell like that fart FOREVER!  My Aunt yelled at him...he laughed, grabbed it once again and again lifted his leg and farted on my chicken.  Everyone laughed and told me he was only kidding.  I was having none of it.  I can only guess that my Aunt was tired of my wailing and took me upstairs to her room where I proceeded to pour nearly and entire bottle of perfume on that chicken.  My Uncle was a character to say the least.  He had a great sense of humor, and the spirit of a mischievous kid.  I'm really going to miss him...alot.  I went to his viewing and the funeral and yes, I brought my kids with me.  My husband stayed at home with Big C during the viewing, but I had to take Little C with me.  I didn't want to leave him home alone with both babies after just 9 days.  All of us attended his funeral.  He loved kids and I know he'd have loved little Little C too.  At this most joyous time in my life, I was forced to deal with something so sad and permanent as death.  It is exhausting being both happy and sad at the same time.

I've also been really concerned about my brother.  A while back I made brief mention of what was going on with him in this entry.  Well, he was in the hospital back in September and had to go back in the hospital again in January.  Although it was only for a week.  He is now going to the wound care clinic to try to get the ulcers on his legs under control.  My brother has chronic venous insufficiency.  In other words, he has lousy veins in his legs which cause poor blood flow from the legs to the heart, which in turns causes severe edema, which leads to the ulcers.  It is a vicious cycle and he went in and had vein ablation done back on March 8th to allow healthy veins to take over in order to alleviate the excessive swelling.  Its been a nightmare from there.  From a hematoma, to suspected blood clot and just when the ulcers were healing up and looking good....new ones have developed.  He has been in a lot of pain with it and the ulcers are equivalent to 2nd degree burns.  He hasn't been able to get around like he used to, which has lead to him being irritable and snappy, which leads to the two of us fighting constantly. *Sigh*

Let's move on to my Dad.  I honestly don't even know where to start there.  But to save a long and drawn out post as this one is getting there already, he has been having health issues as well.  Already diagnosed with Stage 3 chronic kidney disease, he has only recently developed swelling in his legs and feet and it is troublesome.  Because the swelling is really bad.  In fact his doctor called while I have been writing this entry to tell me that the blood tests that were done yesterday are showing the kidney has gotten worse.  However, after being prescribed an antibiotic by his PCP for something unrelated, the Nephrologist wants him to stop the antibiotic and hae the blood test done again on Monday.  I'm worried about him.  I've already lost my Mother.  He is the only parent I have left.  Just now beginning to enjoy being a grandfather to Big C, who adores him BTW, and looking forward to playing with his granddaughter too...I'm so afraid that something will happen to him.  He isn't a spring chicken at 71 years old...but has been in really good health all but for the kidney.  It's bad enough my babies will never get to know the awesomeness that was their maternal Grandmother....I don't want them missing out on knowing their Grandfather as well.

Which brings me to me.  I've been under a lot of pressure lately.  Hormonal changes from having Little C.  My inability to produce sufficient breast milk, despite pumping...a lot.  Only managing 1/4 of an ounce is discouraging to say the least, but I trudged on and made it up to a whole 1/2 ounce per breast.  Which quickly diminished again to a mere dribble.  Sleep deprived.  Little C's constant crying and being unable to poop without me *encouraging* it and being gas bound.  My Uncle dying and then attending his funeral the day before Easter.  My brother and father having health issues.  Oh, and my in laws are coming next week to see the babies.  And we are having Little C baptized next weekend too.  Which I haven't gotten invitations done, or the cake thought about, or favors.  I just barely got the date nailed down.  My in laws are traveling by vehicle the 3000 miles from Oregon.  They wanted to come last year to see Big C after he was born, but then some things came up on their end  and they found themselves unable to make the long trip.  I wanted to have Little C baptized while they were here because it is something special and they've come so far.  I really am looking forward to seeing them.  It's been several years since I have.  I also think it might be a welcomed relief to have a maternal figure around to help.

I've been having what is typically referred to as the Baby Blues.  It's been 3 weeks since Little C's birth and typically the blues go away within a few weeks,  But with everything else I've had going on, mine is probably hanging around a bit longer.  Don't worry...I don't want to harm myself or my babies or anything like that.  I just feel overwhelmed, out of control (mostly because I'm a fixer...I like to fix things and make it all better), inadequate (thank you breasts and my inability to console my screaming baby), guilty (I can't dedicate myself to Big C like I once did, especially since he is now a snot factory and I dunno if it's allergies or a cold and won't take the risk of making Little C sick too), frustrated, inadequate, irritable and completely alone.  I think that part is the worst...feeling so alone because no one else in your house can understand what you are going through.  I wonder if I can go back to taking St. John's Wort?  I decided to take that after my Mom died.  My doc wanted to slap me on Zoloft but I knew I just needed to grieve.  I didn't like the depression along with my grieving so I tried St. John's Wort and it actually did work for me.  I've already decided that I'm not going on any type of hormonal birth control, so I don't need to worry about the contraindications on that front.

Well, that is most of it in a nutshell.  A very large nutshell by the looks of this mega post.  But it was a lot of catching up.  I'll probably be sporadic in my postings for a while.  Pretty sure I won't be on the computer at all while the In-laws are here for 2 weeks. I'm hoping I can retain my sanity through all of this.