Yesterday evening was insane. I’ve never experienced
anything quite like it. We have a new baby and my body is going through a
healing process right after a harrowing 36-hour labor followed by a c-section.
So with that in mind let me set the stage.
It’s late evening, around 7pm. After the end of a long day
where we had taken the baby to his first pediatrician appointment (anxiety
ridden for both parents) we were finally relaxing. Around 7:30 I started
feeling really cold and shivers started. I’d had several low-grade fevers in
the hospital and it was starting again… this time though I’d already taken my
800mg motrin and was still really too early to take any other pain management
meds (like percocets). The problem is that when I get low grade fevers these days
the shivers are violent. My teeth chatter and my whole body shakes and it feels
pretty nuts.
On top of this I had been constipated for days. Iron
supplements due to low hemoglobin levels in the hospital paired with pain pills
had left my bowels in a state of disarray. I’d been taking stool softeners to
know avail and as I sat that shaking uncontrollably I realized… I needed to
poop! This is usually such a good thing. But as I sat down on the toilet while
shaking violently from a completely unrelated fever I realized it was not a
good thing. Pooping after five days of not is usually good. Pooping after five
days on iron supplements that make your feces like rocks? Hurts like hell.
Over the course of the next hour or so I proceeded to give
birth to the largest and hardest three turds of my life. I was screaming in the
bathroom at times and, understandably, it was starting to upset Wee Steven who
doesn’t like to go too long without seeing mommy but hearing her scream meant
he needed to cry too and my husband couldn’t fix his cry or my screams and then
shit got really crazy. I’m shaking violently on the toilet, trying to poop and
my kid cries which means my boobs, which are full of milk at this point, start
leaking profusely. I take off my shirt because its leaving stains and its so
much that its running down my body on the toilet while I’m screaming and
shaking violently.
So I ask Tate to get my breast pump. Pump and baby in hand I
walk him through how to set it up while the baby screams and I scream and I
leak and I shake on the toilet. It was insane. So he gets it done and I start
pumping which immediately makes me so thirsty so I want to kill someone
(happens every time). So I’m thirsty, shaking, screaming while trying to poop
bricks and pumping on the toilet while my baby cries and my husband gets me a
cup of water. And then suddenly, I’ve pumped enough, the final turd comes out
and my shaking, while still violent, calms enough that I can stand up.
Tate is stressed, baby is confused and scared and my body
feels like I just went through a second labor. Taking that dump was as painful
as parts of my labor. I didn’t think it was possible to compare that pain to
anything else in reality but I was wrong. At this point I feed the baby, he
calms down and we try and decompress. My incision is aching from the pushing I
was doing and I’m overwhelmed. My shaking is getting worse and I take my
temperature and it sits at 99.6 which is just enough to make me miserable but
not enough to make me scared until I check it again 30 minutes later and its
gone up to 100 even. So I call the midwife call service and wait for a call
back.
Steven had eaten (but often likes to do this several times
in a row but I was hopeful he was full) so I began treating my nipples. You
see, they’d started having some pain and the pediatrician had written me a
script for some magical nipple cream. So I soaked my nips first, put on some
cream and then realized Steven was getting fussy like he wanted to eat again.
So I texted my lactation consultant to see if was safe to feed him after just
putting it on and he starts screaming. Tate tries to calm him down to no avail
and then I get a text back saying its fine (keep in mind… all this time I’m
still shaking violently). So as Tate is handing off baby my midwife is calling
me back so I shove baby back in Tate’s arms who is still screaming and I’m
still shaking with cream all over my nipples half naked on the couch… and pick
up the phone.
I lose it. Immediately. Just start crying. Can barely tell
her whats wrong. She asks me a few questions and then tells me to go ahead with
the Percocet and to make sure I take my next motrin right on time and hangs up.
Tate brings baby back, baby is on boob and quiet and then the husband is
instructed to get me cold water, medication and a wash cloth because the baby
has popped off said boob and started crying again because the boob obviously
tastes funny. The washcloth comes, all while shaking, and wipe off the nipple
and get Steven quiet and eating again, the cold water comes and I take my pill
and within about 20 minutes the shaking stops, the baby is fed and my nipples
are still sore. My fever went back down to 99 even and I just sat there
slightly traumatized. Now, after 10pm, the baby nursed forever, the meds kicked
in and I realized… this was the end of our full day at home. Awesome.
