I was transferred from recovery to the maternity department of the hospital at about 5:30AM. Rob and Illy had gone to the nursery to give me a chance to recover a bit, and since the shaking had subsided I was getting quite excited about this.
As the wonderful nurse parked me in my new room, the "mother's nurse" assigned to me was getting the room in order.
At about the same time as I was arriving, LeRoy showed up with McDonald's for Rob. My new nurse was a bit rude, telling him he couldn't have the food in the room since it was rude to eat in front of me (I couldn't eat or drink anything that day because of the surgery). I told her to back off, it was fine ... and then realized she thought LeRoy was the husband and father ...
As LeRoy went to find Rob and Illy, I waited, getting my vitals checked and closing my eyes every now and then. The effects of the epidural had not yet waned, and I was quite groggy still.
Suddenly, I heard Rob's voice and I was terrified he had left the baby in the nursery alone, but he assured me she was right behind him ... and in she came. Baby Girl Aiossa, my little Illiana. It was time for a proper introduction, and a proper introduction we had.
I stripped her down to her diaper and held her close, tucked nicely next to me, warm as could be. We attempted nursing a bit, and I held and cuddled her. We took pictures and basked in the beauty of our little girl.
Eventually LeRoy headed home to finish sleeping, and Rob's Mom arrived ... I remember trading Illy back and forth with Rob and his Mom, each of us taking turns welcoming her into the world with all the love a baby could ever want.
The first day seemed to take forever. I remember I wanted to send an email with Illy's picture from my phone, and it took me 8 hours! There were so many interruptions, not to mention the struggle against the pain meds. And did it hurt!
Actually, the pain was normal, but it was the frustration of wanting to sit up to hold and nurse Illy, but I couldn't quite get my tush back far enough to feel I was sitting up (because the c-section incision hurt) ... that was the worst!
Eventually it was time to get out of bed and walk, and so I did with a lot of help from the tech on duty. Out of bed and into the bathroom to clean up ... there was a lot of bleeding, and it tickled to have the tech squirt warm water down there! After changing my bottoms and getting into a new gown, I got to shuffle down the hallway with Rob at my side, Mom watching the baby.
Dosing on and off the whole day, at some point I had to ask for some oxygen. The pulse-ox monitor kept alarming when my saturation would dip below 90, and for some reason I had apnea ... every time I would dose off, my oxygen would dip and the alarm would wake me up (as well as the need to breathe!), so I requested some oxygen to help avoid this vicious cycle so I could get some rest. It did the trick!
We had a visit from the lactation consultant, and I remember being frustrated at all the "helping hands" around. I just wanted to be alone with the baby to get the hang of it, but at the same time, I was truly in need of help because of the c-section incision. Lifting and shifting positions was a real struggle at that point, and the exhaustion didn't help either.
At some point the day mushed into night and Mom left to sleep. A nurse had given me some broth, which was the tastiest thing I can ever remember ingesting! I was STARVING.
Rob and I kind of dosed in anticipation of 3:00AM, when they would de-catheterize and IV me, which meant I wouldn't be on a leash!
As Rob passed out from exhaustion, I had baby Illy in my arms, tucked away nicely under a breast ... I was ready to nurse at her prompting.
But for some reason, I barely remember nursing her the first couple of days. I think perhaps its because of the sleepy reflex of a nursing mother on drugs the first few days after a c-section birth. Apparently, one of the ways you can tell your baby is nursing well is if you get extraordinarily sleepy during the first feedings of colostrum.
Perhaps it was my first time out, and it just didn't occur to me to feed her as much as I should have... Or, as I've been taught by my La Leche League Leaders, the baby's stomach is the size of one of those little bouncy balls you can buy from one of those gum-ball machines at the grocery store for $.25. It doesn't take much to fill it. I remember I got her latched on a couple times the first day ... and she ate and ate and ate ... latched for 45-minutes at a time!
But when it was time to nurse on Day 2, for whatever reason nursing just wasn't clicking. Unfortunately, it was Labor Day, and that meant I wouldn't be having a nursing consultant... So poor Illy ... she would try to scream though she could barely do so her throat was so dry ... and I would try to feed her but couldn't get her latched on ... and then she would cry and I would try to comfort her in other ways ...
That night, Illy's nurse suggested that I pump for her ... that way she could take the colustrum from a bottle ... I didn't want to bottle feed her because I didn't want her developing nipple confusion; so I had the nurse give the colustrum to Illy in a cup. The nurse was impressed with how much colustrum I was able to pump, and Illy did just fine taking it in a cup ... and so I continued pumping every three hours for 20-minutes.
The next day I had a great lactation consultant help me ... she got me set up with the greatest invention in the world; the nipple shield, and it did the trick. We were better able to get Illy latched on and eating ... and she was a happier baby for it! (I never knew I had short nipples...) Unfortunately, the lactation consultant couldn't be there for every feeding; and that meant we had to struggle with a lot of frustration and crying (screaming) on Illy's part when she was hungry. So I continued to pump; but I also continued to offer the breast before the pumped colustrum.
The evening and night of Day 3 was very difficult for Rob and me. Struggling to feed our baby at the breast, Illy had an older nurse who felt it her duty to educate us ... and to prepare us that since our baby was jaundiced (slightly jaundiced; nothing to break out the UV lights over), that we shouldn't be surprised if the doctor ordered her to have formula in the middle of the night. Oh, and she was concerned because Rob wasn't supposed to give her colostrum from the cup; only the baby's nurses were supposed to do that, and she didn't want to do that because she felt the bottle was better; perhaps I was too doggedly pro-breastfeeding so she was there to "prepare me" to give up on my dreams of exclusively breastfeeding. What a BITCH!!! According to her, since we had already introduced the nipple shield, an artificial nipple, then we should have no qualms giving her a bottle ... and that she needed formula to help her poop to get rid of the jaundice.
So, I have a lot of respect for most nurses. And I don't hold some notion that doctors have some all-knowing power after putting in their dues at med school. Nurses are there in the moment and can sometimes have a lot more insight into patient care than the doctors themselves; doctors rely on nurses for this reason! But this nurse went WAY TOO FAR, pushing a personal agenda, and presenting it as caring for her patient.
Rob and his Mom were both thankful that this nurse had saw fit to warn us of these possibilities; I on the other hand was FURIOUS. Fortunately I had sense enough to pick my battles wisely. I told her that if it was against the hospital's policy for Rob to give Illy cup feedings, and she didn't want to do it, then she could have a bottle. But the bottle had to be of MY COLOSTRUM or MILK; NOT FORMULA!!!
Despite my rigid breastfeeding stance, the nurse had managed to rattle Rob and me, and we spent that night frightened that our baby was starving to death and at risk for developing a severe case of jaundice. Add to that the exhaustion, and we were at odds with each other ... bickering a bit because of my relentless dedication to giving our baby that liquid gold ... and only that liquid gold ... that can only be found from the mother's breast. I continued to pump, and Rob continued to feed a very happily fed Illy the bottle ...
All that stress and my resulting tears ... fortunately, that old stupid baby nurse went home for the day, and the new baby's nurse reassured me that the baby was fine; but given my state of unrest, she suggested that she take the crying baby for a few hours ... from 2:00AM to 5:00AM so that Rob and I could get some sleep. Having sworn that I didn't want to be separated from my little one in the hospital, actually, the break was well-timed! And hell, if we were giving her the bottle, why not a pacifier too!
After 3-hours of dead sleep, the nurse did as she promised and brought Illy back into the room ... a sleeping bundle of joy, content with a pacifier in her mouth. I needed to get up and walk again, and I managed to get out of bed by myself ... and to my delighted surprise, my boobs were hurting!!! YAY, MILK!!! And they were hot, too ... I had been warned about the heavy, full, tender feelings ... but the warmth surprised me. I massaged my boobs as I walked; passersby be damned!
When I got back to the room, I pumped, and man did I pump ... those babies produced a ton of milk. My milk product was increasing exponentially at that point!
After pumping, I fell back to sleep ... Rob and Illy had a head start and I was lulled by their alternate breaths.
Sometime close to 7:00AM, a midwife from the Birth Center came in and asked me if I was ready to go home ... It was Wednesday Morning, and Illy had been born on Sunday morning ... although it had been the plan to go home that day, when I was given an option, I told the nurse that I wasn't ready ... Was it the pain? No, I just didn't feel ready ... I was scared, and I needed the nurses and the lactation consultants I told her. So she said I could go home the next day instead.
Poor Rob ... The pediatrician came in a little later and said "you're going home today, right?" Rob said yes, and I shook my head no ... Rob was surprised, and the doctor said, "Well, you know the baby could have gone home two days ago ... you're only here because of you." I asked about her jaundice and he said, she's fine! The jaundice was only ever slight and hasn't increased at all. He was surprised the nurse had made a big deal of it. This was a relief; and also infuriated me even more; I had WORRIED and WORRIED for NOTHING!!! Of course, this is par for the course when you're a parent; but still ... that nurse!
Rob, along with his Mom, convinced me that we should go home that day; and so I got the nurse to change the chart and get the obstetrician to release us ... it was time to take our baby girl home.
And so our lives as The Aiossa Family had begun...
