Heaven, Hell & Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle Vitimins

It has been too long since I last posted. And to be quite honest, I don't have time but I had to post this in case it happens to another kiddo. 

Last night Evyn got into the gummy vitamins and ate what I estimated to be 45. I bought the bottle just two days prior and knew  how many should be in there with exception of what I'd given them. 

I called poison control. 

After looking up the particular brand we had they determined he'd be perfectly fine because they contained no Iron, they were all water soluble and its take 300 of them to reach a dangerous level of vitimin A. 

They informed us he didn't need anymore vitimins for 30 days and to expect a belly ache. 

I decided then and there I was done with vitimins that tasted like candy. Period.

Once I realized he'd be ok, I put the fear of God in him. 

Me: Evyn Tripp! That's so dangerous. You can't ever take more then the recommended doses of medications. I love you and I'm not ready for you to see Jesus yet. 

Evyn: I hope it's Jesus and not the other one. :/

(I had to snicker a little at that)

This morning when he woke up he immediately announced, "Mom!! I'm ok. I didn't see Heaven or Hell."

I'm pretty sure this will be a story he tells his own children. ;)

Postpartum Anxiety. The stuff that Hell is made of.

Like most stories I've read about Postpartum diagnoses, I was hesitant about telling mine for fear I would jinx myself and tomorrow would be a bad day. But, I have to have faith that I am on the road to recovery and not focus on the "what if's" anymore. 

My story actually begins during pregnancy. And if I were really being honest it began many many years ago. I've struggled with anxiety and OCD my entire life to an extent. 

I have 4 wonderful boys that range in age from 5-16 years old. And finally I was pregnant with my sweet baby girl. As soon as her gender was determined the thoughts started to enter my mind that things were too good and something terrible was going to happen to me. Women die during deliver. It could happen to me. I had a lump appear under my arm that I was certain was breast cancer. It disappeared after delivery and was a milk duct just as my Dr had said it was. I cried a lot. For no reason. More so then I did during the boys pregnancies. I made myself miserable and couldn't look forward to her birth because I knew I was going to die. 

Her deliver was not perfect by no means. I separated my pelvis and was unable to walk without a walker for 6 weeks. The first two weeks are a blur but week by week I got through it. 

Walking with a walker and nursing a rather large baby girl (ten pounds at birth)put a terrible strain on my upper back and I developed breast bone pain as well from the strain. Since delivery tried to kill me and didn't succeed I convinced myself I had a heart condition and that's what the pain in my chest was. I went to the ER were EKG and blood work was normal. Almost. The level that determines the clotting ability of your blood came back elevated. I had thick blood and was put on an Aspirin regimen. Yay, that I didn't have a heart condition but now I had a new set of worries. Thick blood......meant I was going to have a stroke. Not really. But that's what my anxiety was telling me. Anxiety breeds anxiety and I was on a roller coaster I couldn't get off of. 

I worried constantly. I couldn't enjoy my baby girl I'd waited for for so long. I smiled and laughed at her but it was forced. I loved her and held her and rocked her and nursed her but something was missing. My sanity. Peace of mind. Dieing in my sleep was a fear and the kids waking up and finding me dead.  I kept thinking about how awful it would be if I died in my sleep and My baby girl layed there next to my dead body all night. I have lived on my own for almost 20 years married to truck driver who's rarely home and It never bothered me. But I found myself begging him to quit his job and asking my mommy to come stay with me at night because I was scared to be alone. Feelings of fear would wash over me and I would be clammy and light headed. Misery is an understatement. 

I finally gave in and started Zoloft. Crazy thoughts entered my mind. What if I snapped and hurt myself or worse.......starting medication was an easy decision once I started having crazy invasive thoughts. 

The first few days were terrible but they improved and are still improving. I find that I don't focus on "what if's" much anymore. I don't scream at my kids anymore. I love My baby girl. She feels so real now. Not just temporary. 

I'm by no means healed but I fell so much better. I hope someone reading this is has been told they need medication try's it. Not just for a few day but for at least a week. I wish I had done this years ago. I'd always thought I wasn't the type that needed medication but as it turns out, I am that type. And I am so much better off. I feel like a better mom. Patient. Kinder. My older son said "Mom, you seem so much happier with me lately". And that was all the proof I needed. 

Birth Story Photos

4 week Update

My sweet gal is four weeks old today. It's also mine and Dannys ten year anniversary and Valentine's Day.

 A couple months ago I ordered this red tutu for Maddy with leggins and a hairbow. It was a Valentine's Day outfit that I couldn't wait to put on her and show her off. That didn't exactly happen. 

Yesterday I actually walked down four steps with my cane, drove to Moms, walked up two stairs, picked out some clothes for The funeral home (Dannys grandmother passed and we needed to go see her) came back home, showered and got ready and went to the funeral home with all 5 kids. It was the first time out of the house for me or Maddy that wasn't a Dr visit. Afterwards we went to eat with Mom and Dad. Before we got home I had to take one of my strong pain pills. Motrin wasn't going to fix that pain. I totally over done it. I want so bad to be able to do those things but I simply can't. Today we slept most of the day. 

So here's the four week update. 

I can now get in and out of the shower by myself if I step in and out sideways. I can't bend and shave below my knees. It takes me a long time to dress because I have to sit to accomplish that. I can stand and wash dishes, fix simple meals and laundry. Danny got me a claw type thing so if I drop something I can pick it up instead of waiting for someone to come along and get it for me. It's a nice little piece of independence I missed. 

I can walk without my walker. Not much. I get really tired quick when using it or my cane. I don't hurt most of the time. I just have weird sensation in pelvic area that sometimes are unnerving. I'm so scared I will reinjur myself even though I've been assured that nothing in ordinary life can mimic the trauma of labor and  that its just a matter of letting soft tissue heal now.........but regurdless......I'm scared to death to move. 

I can also walk some with Maddy but very slowly and very few steps. Her added weight does make it harder to balance. 

So, that's it. Four weeks and still counting.  I wish I had a timeline to follow. I wish I could circle a date on the calender and know that was the day I can shower and get the kids ready, pack a diaper bag, carry the car seat and Maddy to the van and take the kids to the park.  I wish someone could tell me how long it takes ligaments to tighten back up and heal. The list of things I can do is short but I still try to focus on that instead of what I can't do. It's hard. Danny needs to return to work but I'm scared to death to be alone with all the kids.  I want him to be able to work in the day and be home at night but we just can't survive that way. 

I hope Valentines Day found you all safe, sound, warm and loved. 

Diastasis Symphysis Pubis Two Week Update

Yesterday and today I looked at Maddy's birth photos. It was the first time since she was born two weeks ago on Saturday. 

There is so much pain, heartache, and pure joy wrapped up into those photos. The day she turned two weeks old I broke completely down into a puddle of mess for a couple hours. I feel so blessed yet cheated. I have everything I've ever dreamed of, yet I can't live it. I feel like I'm in the sidelines. 

I look at those photos and I wish I had begged for a csection. I wish I hadn't pulled my legs back so far during delivery. I wanted to avoid a csection but had no idea the amount of trauma I'd cause by putting my legs in such a position. If I could just have a do over everything could be normal. I'd be recovering from a csection instead of this beast that no one knows much about. 

I still sit for hours on end and research treatment, others stories, the surgery sit takes to heal sometimes. I can find comfort in stories from women whom have similar stories and have healed and I'm overwhelmed with anxiety and tears at the stories of women who still suffer months and months later. 

I imagine Maddy being months old and crawling and me unable still to pick her up. I cringe when I think about stormy weather coming this Spring and me being unable to get everyone out of the house and in a basement. I can't go down steps. I can barely step into the shower. I still can't twist and get into bed. And even if I did get into bed I couldn't sleep there. My right leg I can control better then my left. I cannot life it nearly as well. The chair has become my den. I imagine the time coming when Maddy isn't satisfied to lay on a pillow in my lap. What will I do then? 

I go tomorrow to have X-rays retaken. I am hoping the gap has closed signifigantly. If it hasn't I will have to start to consider the fact that surgery is my fate. Even typing that sentence makes me nauseous. 

That's the thoughts of the part of me that thinks the worst all the time. 

The thoughts of the part of me that try's to stay positive thinks, "Kathy, it's only been 2 weeks". Ligaments take time to heal. I can move better with my walker now. I can step out of my clothes better now before a shower. I can step into the shower sideways now. I can stand in place a long time and wash dishes or do some laundry. That is until I drop something. Bending is still not possible. 

I can take a few tiny steps without my walker but I'm scared to death without it. I feel loose and off balance. 

I can sit and get up easy now. I wonder how I will feel at 6 weeks without wishing away time. 

Yall please continute to pray, send healing thoughts, send advice...........I could sure use it. 

First, thank you for all the calls, texts, food brought to our home and most of all your prayers. Please keep the pray coming. I'm sorry that I've not text some back or messaged. I have good days and bad days, mentally and physically. 

Right now as I write this blog using my phone while sitting in the recliner I can hear Danny going from room to room empting everyone's garbage. Just prior to that he put my socks on and covered me up. I can't even begin to tell you how good he's been to me and how well he has stepped into playing my role here. That man has amazed me. I love him so. 

Many don't know exactly what is going on so I'm going to try and explain it best I can. I'm still educating myself by reading others stories (they are few and not all encouraging so my sweet OB Maggie has given me strict instruction to stay off the internet).

There is a thing called 

Symphysis Pubis Dysfunction. 

Many women suffer from this during their third trimester of pregnancy. I can't say that I did. I had your normal aches and pains but I don't beleive had I mentioned these symptoms it would have been considered this. The reason I mention this is because of you read it, it's awful close to what I'm dealing with. Except, my pelvis actually separated during delivery. That separation caused severe pain and discomfort while I was in the hospital and my first few days home. The pain has somewhat subsided but I still few a great deal of pubic none pressure and and cramps much like period pain. I walk with a walker and have been instructed to take small slidding steps. I can't bend. I can't lift either leg. I can't make any twisting movement. Riding in a vehicle is next to impossible because of the twisting motion it takes to get into a one. Besides that, the steps leading off my back porch are boogers too. A walker and steps mix like oil and water. 

I am wearing a sort of brace right now like they give you when discharged from the hospital with a csection. I wear it low and tight on my hips. It provides some support to sorda "pull my two halves back together" but mostly it makes me aware of my movement and keeps me from taking to large of steps. I'm expecting a brace today and praying that it makes a big enough difference that I'm not so discouraged. My OB has done her best to keep me on a positive note and reminds me that these things take time and rest. Neither I'm very good with. 

I want to hear similar stories but there just seems to be nothing out there. I hear and read the word "rare" a lot. 

My little prize is 10 days old and compared to the day she was born and the days after, I've made progress. It's such a slow depressing time for me. Im not going to sugar coat this. 

Danny is unable to work because I need round the clock care as do our children. Right now he's vacuuming under my feet. Bills will soon pile up. And stress will begin to overwhelm me even more. I'm scared. Terrified actually, that this is my life. Throw that into the mix with anxiety and sadness and I'm just a ball of fun. Please continue to pray for me. Something like this sure will show you what's important. Times I spent fussing about picking up toys, washing dishes, dressing the kids when they were to sleepy to do it themselves......If I could just heal and be somewhat able is never fuss about meaningless stuff again. How I want to pack my baby girl that I wished for most of my life. When she crys I can't walk and sooth her and that hurts my heart . So I just cry right along with her. 

If any of you know anyone or have any information you could pass along I'd sure be greatful. I've read so much during the nights here that all I remember are the terrible stories of extreme cases were surgery to fuse the bones together was nessasary but the outcomes have not been great. 

 Here is my X-ray two days after delivery. 

And here is my sweet 9 pound 7 ounce prize. Meet Madiyln~Kathryn Danielle.

Little Debbie's, Prune Juice and The Wish Factor

   Here's the beauty of pregnancy.......ummmm.....beauty.........I was gonna say something here and it's totally slipped my mind. Musta been a lie. Matter of fact I'm quite sure it was a lie because now that I sit here, hiding in the bathroom at 2:30 a.m. to avoid waking my kids since I can't sleep, I can't think of one single thing about pregnancy that's even close to beautiful. Or cute. Miracle maybe, but not a pretty one. 

I have avoided complaining during this 5th (and final) pregnancy because of reasons I've previously explained already. But I'm done with that. I have 24 hours left and I'm about to let the real sh#t rip. No pun intended there, because my husband and best friend both know that has rarely happen in the last 60 days without the aid of warm prune juice, pineapple, or a stomach flu that dam near killed me. Trips to the bathroom have not been scarce though. If I gave a rough estimate I'd say in the last 60 days/nights I have been to the bathroom to pee/dribble/drip/or sometimes do nothing but cuss because her head dropped into my pelvis as I sat down and cut off pee flow, around 900 times. I got that number by guesstimating I went 15 times a day. I'd say some days I doubled that and some days it was less. Either way 900-1000 seems very accurate.  

Morning sickness lasted my entire pregnancy morning, noon and nights. The first 14 weeks or so I cried. And cried a lot. One can only do so much with parenting 4 boys when constantly trying to swallow down vomit. I discovered several pregnancies ago the trick to functioning through morning sickness is to never ever have a totally empty stomach. Therefore, I have ate every two hours like clockwork (except during the hours I had the stomach flu) for 39 weeks (ok, probably more like 34 because the nausea didn't start till about 5 weeks in). My go to quick snack of choice, Little Debbie's. Quick. Easy. Required no preparation. And made from bread so they stuck with me for a couple hours before I needed to snack again. Not only did they stick around in my belly and ward off puke, they also stuck to my ass, hips, legs, face, arms, toes and boobs. I tipped the scale last Tuesday at my final OB appointment at 201. Two Hundred and One Pounds. That's two Hundreds, Zero tens and one One's.

Besides the Little Debbie's I have eaten reasonably healthy. Fruits. Vegetables. Not a lot of meats. I took my multivitamins and I tried to stay somewhat active right up till my blood  pressure wouldn't allow it anymore. I suppose that's a side effect to straddling the fence of 35 because I never had a issue with BP before. Or it could be all the Little Debbie's laying heavy on my arteries. 

Why am I up at 3:05 a.m. you ask........ Well because I have reached that stage where Braxton Hicks make me cuss like a sailor and want to break knees of loved ones. 

The last few days I have had contractions 12 minutes apart when standing or laying like clockwork. But as soon as I get up and walk they disappear. A couple hours ago I had one so strong that it woke me from a sleep and sat me straight up out of the bed with my feet on the floor in one swift motion!! I got up and got dressed and started a load of laundry. I was prepared to start timing some contractions and hoping I didn't have to wake Danny up till at least sunup. Before I knew it 20 minutes had passed and I hadn't had another contraction. I sit and they start back. Then I walk and they disappear. It's been that way 72 hours now. 72 hours of on again off again labor. Maybe that's why it's slipped my mind that pregnancy is beautiful. That and the fact it takes prayer and prune juice to crap all the Little Debbie's. 

Danny claims I have "the wish factor" going on right now. 

"Ya see," he explains, "some people hope no one messes with them. But you dear Wish that someone would mess with you. Just so you can snap their little heads off and not feel guilty." 

I'd say that's accurate as well. 

Bless his sweet heart he's been such a good husband these 39 weeks. He's cooked and cleaned and played Momma and Daddy when he could. He's turned around and came back home when he sensed I was borderline nervous breakdown. He's rubbed my back, hips and legs and arms almost nightly when he was here. And he's looked at me like I was the most beautiful sight He'd ever seen when I was sitting beside him sipping warm prune juice. 

This pregnancy has been difficult on us all. Kids includded. They've had to really learn what it means to do a few things for themselves. Pick up after themselves. And the last little while we've been practicing what's appropriate behavior with a little girl in house. It's a work in progress. 

So hear we are down to the last few hours. My boobs leak and hurt. I've gained 70 pounds. I can't sleep. I can't sit. I can't lay down. I can't walk around without my Bp acting foolish. I pee 15 times a day and crap once a week on a good week. 

My face is spotty and swollen. My kids hate me. And Danny is jumpy when I make sudden movements because I have the "wish factor" going on. But come Saturday I will have a baby girl. After 16 years, four boys and an adoption that ripped out my heart......I will have a baby girl. That's the beauty of this pregnancy. That's what I meant to say.