The Whole Truth

Now that things are pretty peachy with Myelle, I think I owe it to other moms to tell it like it really was (because none of us are perfect, and it's okay!). I had some not-so-nice feelings when I had to square up with a very upset newborn day in and day out for 3+ months. Don't get me wrong, I still loved her to death and would give the world to keep her safe and happy but at the same time... well, you'll see.


First, I have to do one of the things I hate doing... comparing siblings. But it's necessary in order to understand what my "norm" was. Before we got pregnant with Kyler, I had all kinds of tests done for months and months, then we started treatment  I had my first IUI, it failed, and the next month I was miraculously pregnant even though we were taking a break that cycle. It was a dream come true, my pregnancy was pretty easy, my c-section went great, and I didn't even have a lot of pain afterwards. We had nursing down within a day or two after leaving the hospital. And I only remember one time when I got so tired I had to break down and cry. Even with a newborn we kept up with the lifestyle we were used to. We took him out to eat and to ballgames and pretty much anywhere. He was a good baby and I could almost always calm him when he got upset.

Brett had always wanted two kids. I was indifferent. Two sounded good, or one, or five. Whatever. So we started trying for a second while I still had my job and excellent health insurance that covered fertility treatments. This time my lab work said I have signs of yet another fertility issue (on top of the two existing problems we already had uncovered). Treatment after treatment was failing. It was getting to be exhausting. Finally we got pregnant. But then we found out I had miscarried. Back to more treatments, more and more, and increasing doses and injections and all this stuff. The IUIs were horrible and often took about 45 minutes of prodding before they were done, and sometimes still not sure if they got it all the way into the cervix. This time we were two hours from the fertility clinic so it was even more exhausting. I would find myself in tears in the waiting room but didn't know why. It was hard. Finally I got pregnant again. And it was a healthy and uneventful pregnancy. Praise the Lord! This is exactly what we had been trying so hard for and wanting so so badly.

I hope I never forget the day Myelle was born. Tears were streaming down my face when she came out. I loved her so much immediately. And she was a girl! And I could see how excited her dad was to meet her. She wasn't pissed off and screaming like her brother was when he came out. She was content and alert and just a perfect little bean that whole first day of life. But not for long...

Even in the hospital we had a hard time calming Myelle. She wouldn't take a pacifier like Kyler did. She spit up and choked on it and we were a little worried. They said it was fine and some babies just do that. We sent her to the nursery at night and sometimes when I needed to nap and Brett was out and about. She screamed as soon as we left the hospital so I had to forfeit my shotgun position in the car to be next to her. It was just one little sign that our lifestyle was changing.

When we got home from the hospital, there was even more spitting up. Everywhere, and a lot, and on everything. The first night home she was up every single hour on the hour except the two hour stretch she slept from 11pm to 1am. Luckily it was much better after that first night and her best quality quickly became how well she slept at night. But she was (and still is) picky about it. It had to be pitch black and she didn't appreciate the radio I had on in there for background noise. She was such a violent nurser that she was making me bleed and I was in horrible pain from breastfeeding. That lasted a week or two until I was finally healed up. But her crying didn't stop until she was over three months old. She would cry and cry, and fight me while nursing because something was bothering her, and then when she had to pass gas or poop she would scream bloody murder. The screaming mostly stopped after I changed my diet - I stopped eating dairy, chocolate, and caffeine. I kept a log of everything I put into my mouth and how her behavior was. She still cried. Not screamed, but cried. And it was almost all the time. Finally I took her back to the doctor because I was sure this was not stopping anytime soon. She got put on reflux medication and within 2.5 weeks, she was a whole new baby. The reflux was making her uncomfortable all the time. Now she lets me rock her and loves getting lots of kisses... so much so that it makes her laugh.

Now that she is smiley and laughing and not crying non-stop, I know that we are going to be just fine. Just thinking about her makes me smile. But I need to tell you the whole truth. Up until that point, I was worried about my bond with her. Not being able to calm her felt unnatural. She pulled away from me nursing and after the first few days she was not a cuddly baby. She didn't like her back, belly, or head rubbed. She didn't really even seem to like to be held close and hugged and snuggled. I kept telling Brett that maybe we weren't meant to have two kids. It was too much for me and things were so much easier, calmer, and just felt more right when it was just Kyler. I felt pretty awful about feeling that way since we had tried so hard and wanted her so badly, then she came and I felt like it was too much. I kept having this thought that he was the one who wanted this baby, not me. I'm not proud of those thoughts, but at the same time it's not like I can help what pops into my head, especially postpartum when my hormones were raging. I wanted more than anything to be able to calm her and take away whatever was causing her to be upset. I would rock her and try to get her to nurse and she would scream and I would just silently cry. Brett would come in and tears would be rolling down my face. He would take her and she would continue to scream. Eventually I would have to take her back until she finally stopped... for a while. This went on for over three months. Every single day. And we didn't go anywhere because there was a lot of nasty stuff going around - influenza, RSV, pneumonia. I kept wondering if I had a bit of postpartum depression. It was not a fun time.

Anyway, I know that this is a super long post but I just wanted to document how this all went down and what my real thoughts and feelings were. A lot of those feelings were the direct result of direct exhaustion and hormones. I hope that in the end it has made my bond even stronger with Myelle because of all we have been through already. Even in the worst of it, I wanted to be there with her. I remember Brett having her during my 6 week postpartum checkup and just knowing she was screaming. I wanted to get back to her so badly so that I could be there to try to calm her (even though I couldn't always calm her, I could do a better job than anyone else). Sure enough Brett said she had been screaming. She's my little sidekick now and I can't imagine life without my little bug. Like I always tell her, "I love My Ellie girl."