With these preterm births, Ben and I find ourselves making some annoying sacrifices. The first always being Ben's time off from work. Our first baby was the most difficult because we were both working. Having a preemie puts your post pardom time frame in two halves. There is recovery time and the great shift in your life due to bringing in a new life. But then there is the time when the baby actually comes home and you try to adjust to the changes at home and with your other kids, your schedule around the click etc.
Ben and I have always chosen to save most of his time off during that 2nd half. When I was in the hospital he only took off one day, the one when we thought we might deliver, the day after I was admitted. Luckily I delivered on a Saturday so he spent the whole day following with me. When I had a job, I dealt with a bunch of drama with work, technically my time between delivery and Michelle coming home was pretty much my entire maternity leave. With her I was ill for a few weeks after, then there was recovery coming home and trips to the hospital. So my first fews weeks as a Mom were without pay, no fun having those extra tasks to work out.
This time I was ready for what was to come. But that first morning in postpartum I had a major breakdown. I was alone, I couldnt move around easily due to my surgery, and my hormones where doing that creepy "just had a baby" wave. I started crying and couldn't stop, which led to hyperventilating. The nurse had left my door open and the door was literally down a hall in my room. I could hear tons of voices and commotion in the hall of the many families coming through to visit new babies. Doctors and nurses chatting etc. So all that just funneled to my room down the hall. Since I was hysterically crying I didnt want to call the nurse in since I knew she would jot down some notes about how crazy I was leading to more questions and crying and possibly more doctors coming up with more reasons to make me stay. I called Ben and luckily he calmed me down. Those next two days were far too quiet and sore.
However, I had no home to go to at the moment. Since our home flooded a few months prior, the bulk of the work just so happened to be taking place over the next two and a half weeks following my discharge. So I went to my parent's house. When I was released, my Mom and girls came to get me. The girls where so cute helping me with every little thing. Wanting to push my wheelchair, holding my hand, and saying sweet calm words. It was odd being outside after about three weeks. Driving away I found myself feeling that empty feeling from leaving the hospital without my baby. Something I was so sure I wouldn't have to feel again. I got to my parent's house and tried to adjust. Its pretty difficult dealing with postpartum side effects life, bleeding and pumping and slow walking when you're not in the privacy of your own home. I tried to just sleep, which was difficult on a couch. At one moment I woke up to the sound of crying and found it was Scarlett. I asked her what was wrong and she asked if I had left the baby somewhere and lost her. Michelle joined in and brought up the senario I shared with them about me coming home from the hospital and them enjoying cuddling with their new sister. I realized I wasn't clear about the situation. I told them about the NICU and showed them some video of her. That night we watched the new Tinkerbell movie and they cuddled close to me. It's hard enough adjusting to being a new Mom of three, imagine having to travel to two different locations while adjusting!
That night was even stranger. The girls were asleep, Ben was on the other couch dozing off when suddenly my thoughts in the quiet took over. I was thinking "Wait? I had a baby. She was early, wait, earlier then the other girls! Hold on! Wasn't I doing those painful injections with the 90% chance of full term birth? What happened? Its over? My baby is in the NICU? ANOTHER preemie? What happened?" Then I just felt this heavy wave of guilt. It was a painful crushing feeling in my chest. I went to my Mom hoping to just get distracted with conversation, instead I broke down...hard. She helped me back to the couch and Ben woke up. I started sobbing, again. Which led to hyperventilating, again. I told Ben I hated that our baby was somewhere else. I hated that she was premature and not in my womb like she was supposed to be. It was awful. It may sound strange, but I wished I was back at the hospital. The whole thing went by so fast that I could've lasted another 2-3 weeks if I could. I wanted more than anything to avoid having a preemie again, so the hosptial stay seemed like a cake walk from that point on. Having a baby at 31 weeks has already brought on so many more hurdles that I am beyond grateful for not having her any sooner. (The next day I found out that night before my little breakdown, Boleyn had had serious trouble breathing. She was trying way to hard, was inconsolable and needed to go back on cpap. Crazy crazy stuff! Moms are for sure linked to their babies!)
The first day I visited our house was the day I truly mourned my not being pregnant. The last time I was there I was rubbing my cute baby bump and happy with every hope that I would make it much further then I had before. I would give anything to still be pregnant. I missed feeling my baby kick. I missed knowing she was safe and comfortable. I felt like such a failure.
Things have gotton a lot better over the last couple weeks. My house still isnt done, so I have yet to experience a day lounging in my pajamas in bed all day. I have yet to experience a full day of privacy. Trips to the NICU every three hours also keep you busy. Parents tell me its crazy how fast feeding come around. Image having to add a drive each time!
I'm pretty tired and I can't wait to finally be home with all my girls. I can't wait to start my life as a Mom of three girls!
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