Hazel is Born

3 weeks ago, our sweet little baby was born-Hazel Mary Roberts.  John and I had a really hard time finding a name.  After 4 other girls, we had used up most of the names we liked.  There were two I had in mind, but John said one of them was a boys name and the other one was too popular for my liking.  So when she was born, I told John to pick the name.  He decided on Hazel.  Her middle name, Mary, is after his mom.  She weighed 8 pounds 12 ounces and was 21 inches long.  It was the 23rd of July.  I was at the park with Heather and all our kids.  I was having contractions, but I didn't know if they would keep going or fizzle out.  We left the park around 5, and John and I headed to Costco so we could fill our empty fridge and pantry.  While we were there, the contractions keep coming, but they weren't super close together even though they were painful.  They kept coming through the evening and they were getting pretty strong.  I was trying to wait to go to the hospital because I was considering doing this birth without an epidural.  My mom came over at about 11:30, and we headed to Mountain Point Hospital.  I was anxious to see how far dilated I was and told John that I would die if they said I was at a 4.  Well, guess what-they checked me and I was at a 4!  I had a great nurse though that had done a natural childbirth and she said if I wanted to do it, she would help me make it happen.  I decided to go for it.  I knew this was my last delivery, and I honestly was just curious to know how bad it really was.  My nurse was amazing.  She helped me walk the halls, and showed John how to push on my back during contractions to make it less painful.  The doctor came and broke my water at some point and that really made things progress quickly.  The contractions were difficult, but they were really manageable for most of the labor.  It was probably the last 15-20 minutes or so where things got really intense.  I remember feeling at one point like I couldn't move because of the pain, I couldn't lie down, I ended up crouching on the bed with my arms wrapped around the nurse's neck.  I kept telling myself not to bite her because my head was in her shoulder and I was struggling with the pain.  Pretty soon, I felt like I couldn't stand it anymore and I just wanted her to come out.  I started pushing, my eyes were closed and I'm sure I was yelling or groaning or something.  It felt like an out of body experience because it was just so intense.  When her head came out, the cord was wrapped around her neck twice.  The doctor unwrapped it, and I pushed out the rest of her.  It was insane.  While the delivery was intense and crazy and painful, it was nothing compared to what came next.  My placenta wouldn't come out.  It was the most painful thing I've ever been through.  I had seen a natural birth video where the woman had trouble with her placenta and it scared me.  I asked my nurse about it beforehand and she said it would be a piece of cake and I wouldn't even take note of it after the delivery.  That was not the case.  For whatever reason, my placenta did not want to come out.  The doctor said sometimes that happens when it implants up high in the uterus.  He was trying to massage my stomach to make it come, and that hurt so incredibly bad.  I was pushing his hands away and telling him I wanted to kick him.  He was trying to gently pull it out.  Nothing was working.  I was losing a lot of blood, and too much time was passing.  He looked at me and said, "We have to get this out now."  I asked what my options were and he looked at me like I was a little dumb because there was only one option.  Two nurses held down my hands so I wouldn't push him away, and he reached in and pulled it out.  Needless to say, it was a bit traumatic for my body.  I was just shaking.  I felt so sad at this point because all this time had passed and I hadn't even held my baby.  Normally they put the baby up on your chest the minute they are born, but I wasn't able to do that.  I didn't see them put her on the scale, or wrap her up.  There were no pictures taken of her with John or with me.  It made me really sad to miss all that.  All this happened at about 3, and it wasn't until 4 that the nurses and doctors left the room.  I held our sweet baby and tried to feed her, but afterwards I was so weak and tired, John told the nurses to take the baby with them.  At about 5, they came in to check me and I needed to go the bathroom.  As soon as they took me in there and I sat down, I knew I was going to pass out.  I warned the nurses, so luckily they were prepared.  Next thing I know, I'm somehow back in my bed with an oxygen mask on and I hear them talking about my color and blood transfusions.  It was pretty scary.  The rest of the night I could never quite go to sleep because I kept having the same feeling where I needed to fight to keep consciousness.  I just lied in the bed and cried because I felt so bad that I couldn't hold my baby and love her.  I was so grateful to the nurses who were doing that for me.  The funny part is that John slept through that whole episode.  I don't know how.  All the lights were on, there were about 5 nurses in the room.  He couldn't believe it when I told him the next morning.  Needless to say, this was not our best birth experience.  I was so grateful though that she and I both made it out okay.  I was really nervous that something would go wrong this time.  I had researched all the ways that women still die in childbirth, and I told John about them so he would know what to do if something happened.  I feel so incredibly grateful that we made it through pregnancy and delivery.  It has been three weeks, and I'm starting to feel better.  I felt like this recovery was a little slow, probably because I lost so much blood.  But three weeks later, I'm starting to feel better and more capable of doing things.  Everyone in our family completely adores her.  The kids always want to hold her.  Especially Hadley.  I feel like Hazel and Hadley have a bond that was formed long before either of them were born.  The first thing she says when she gets out of bed is, "Where's Hazel?"  And the second she walks in the door after being gone, "Where's Hazel?"  I love how she gently strokes her head and how she says over and over, "Ahhh.... She's so cute.  She's so cute, Mommy."  We left Hazel on the bed alone for literally one minute, but that was all the time Hadley needed to pick her up and hold her all on her own.  Another sweet little girl is not what I thought was coming when we decided to go through one more pregnancy, but I know without a doubt that Hazel was meant for our family.  God had to work some pretty big miracles to get her here, and we are all grateful he did because we sure love this little baby.

The Final Days

I'm still pregnant, but hopefully this baby will come any day.  Like today.  That would be lovely.  This pregnancy has been such a challenge for me.  I've tried so hard to fight off the depression, and that means that I've had to die inside.  Turn off all emotions completely.  That hasn't been fun.  And sometimes I don't succeed.  Sometimes, like last night, the darkness gets to me and I fall apart.  I hate the wife I'm forced to be, the mother pregnancy makes me become, the daughter, the me I have to be while I'm pregnant.  I can't wait for it to be over.  Sometimes I get scared that things won't go back to normal after I'm done because it has been so long since I felt like myself.  And I get worried how I will be able to handle all that comes with a newborn when I can barely function right now as it is.  I have to trust that things will be better and I will be capable of more when I'm not pregnant.  Anyway, hopefully today will be the end of this long ordeal! But probably not.

The Greatest Battles Fought Are Within the Human Mind

I feel a great need to sort through my thoughts and feelings, and apparently this is the place I've decided to do it.  Luckily, most everyone thinks this blog is dead and they won't read this because I'm not terribly inclined to have everyone know what my life is like at the moment.

I'm pregnant. 18 weeks.  To put it gently, pregnancy does not agree with this body of mine, physically, mentally, or emotionally.  I'm now over the worst of the sickness and vomiting, I still throw up most mornings and don't feel that great, but it is nothing compared to how terrible it was before.  I pretty much lived in my bed.  Poor Hadley was so sick of it.  Every time I carried her into my room she would start crying and point to go out.  It wasn't fun.  I was in bed and asleep most nights by 8.  Poor John and the kids had to do everything.  I was completely worthless to them.  Everything that made me who me is was taken from me.  I wasn't capable of anything.  Often, I broke down and cried to John that I really missed being me.  And I know he missed his wife, and my kids definitely missed their mom.  We still do.  I see pictures of friends doing simple things with their kids-building snowmen, art projects, reading books, going for walks-and I break down.  That part of me is dead.  And I hate that.

You would think that life would be better since the sickness has lessened.  But what I'm going through now is worse.  The darkness of depression is seeping into my mind and heart.  I'm trying so hard to fight it, I don't want to hurt my sweet husband and children, but each night I go to bed feeling that despite my best efforts, the darkness has consumed another part of me.  It frightens me.  And I feel guilty.  Spiritually, depression is devastating.  I think to myself, "If only I had greater faith.  If only I prayed with more intent.  If only I were better, stronger.  It's my fault."  My mind can try to tell my heart that those things aren't true, but it is a whisper compared to the magnitude of the darkness in my mind.  The scariest part is wondering just how far it will go.

I don't want to be around people.  I try to force myself, but I don't want concern and pity and questions.  I feel weak and defective.  Someone recently tried to comfort me by telling me that we had to find a way to be grateful for our suffering because it brought sweet children into our home.  I know they meant well, and I know that is true.  But when I try each day with every fiber of my being to rise above this darkness and feel joy, gratitude, and peace....I fall short every day.  I can't do it.  Experiences like that reinforce the idea that it is better to just keep it all to myself.  My best hope is that my toxicity won't spread to John and the kids.  I can suffer through this, but I can't bear the thought of injuring my family because I'm not strong enough to rise above this.

I cry all the time.  Whenever I am alone.  I can't sleep.  I don't feel the joy and happiness that I use to despite the chaos and taxing demands of my family.  I am petrified of adding a baby to the life that already seems to overwhelm me, I don't know how I can do it.

I just have to go back to the faith I still have.  When I made the decision to do this again, I knew that God would see me through it.  I know He will.  And yet, the weeks left loom over me and frighten me with the possibilities of how much damage I could possibly do in that time.