Days 2 through 5 at the hospital

It is now 10 days past the birth of our sweet Cooper, so some of the hospital days run together, but over all, I had great nurses, and many wonderful visitors, and spent most of the time holding one of God's greatest gifts, while he slumbered peacefully with his gorgeous full lips pursed and his black hair curling against my arm.
  After my fainting issue I got some more food in my system, but was very scared to eat solid food.  I have very few memories from the hospital (and from my first month at home, but that is a story for another post) but a couple of the memories I do have revolve around the sheer agony of passing gas and trying to do a "number 2." Sorry folks, it's just the truth.  So I tried to eat soups, fruit, juice, pudding etc, but on about Wednesday night, I was starving and started eating regular food.  The whole time I was at the hospital- no number 2, so I was getting worried. (Rightfully so...but that's also another story...one of which probably will NOT get an in depth blog post...) 
  Late Monday night I got my catheter out and was cleared to walk to the bathroom by myself.  It was pretty dang painful to get into and out of bed with the incision, but with the IV fluids they were pumping into me, it was necessary.
  Dave stayed over night the first night, but didn't take a day off work until Friday when I got home.  (luckily Monday, the day Cooper was born, was Labor Day, and he had it off!) We had discussed this in detail, and I have some friends who are appalled that he didn't take the week of to be with me- but here's the truth of the situation-
1. I was at the hospital.  Two nurses were only a bell ring away. I was clearly going to be taken care of.
2. I had lots of visitors who came and went (and never overstayed their welcome) and when they weren't there, I was probably sleeping, so I didn't really need him to be there 24-7.
3.  It is Dave's busy season.  Dave is NOT a boat rocker. I mean NOT A BOAT ROCKER! Dave plays by the rules, by the book, end of story.  When he took a job with this firm 3 years ago his boss told him, "We just don't take time of during busy season."  His boss is the most wonderful kind man, and I can guarantee he would not mind at all if Dave had taken the whole week off to be with his brand new baby boy and his wife who just had a c-section. I could have pressed the issue and Dave could have had the time of, but it would have killed Dave.  As much as Dave would have liked to have been there, it just wasn't something you do, YOU DON'T TAKE TIME OF DURING BUSY SEASON.  As as side note, I took a couple amazing classes on personality types this summer at Aspen Grove from the maker of a famous personality test, and I learned SO SO SO SO MUCH about mine and Dave's personality types, and really so much about understanding Dave and his choices, the way he deals with things, and how to best let him be himself, show my love to him etc.  I learned that asking Dave to do something against the grain, is EXTREMELY PAINFUL for him. We are the exact opposite personality types, so I wouldn't bat an eyelash to run it by my boss if the roles were reversed, but that's not Dave, and I respected that.  It worked out totally fine. Dave was not going to stay the nights either, but after two nights at home, I asked him to stay at the hospital instead, which of course he did.
  Moving on.  Tuesday by myself (of course with lots of visitors) and I was still basking in my Cooper induced Euphoria.  NO POST PARTUM.  The fact that I was totally fine with Dave NOT being there speaks volumes about where my head, and my hormones were.  Cooper and I snoozed and snuggled, and he still latched like a champ.  The lactation consultant came and met with us, I told her my nursing history (or unfortunate lack-there-of) and she really gave me some great tips. The consultant checked my breasts, and I did have collostrum, so we were on the right track.  Really, nursing was the only thing in the back of my mind that was weighing slightly heavily. Trying and failing to nurse Jaxon was quite possibly one of the worst and most traumatic occurrences in my life.  But so far- so good!
  My mom and dad brought Jaxon by the hospital everyday on his way home from school, and usually right before or after dinner. He was so excited, and in love, and also REALLY loved visiting the cafeteria with Grandpa!  :o)
 I'm pretty sure Wednesday passed much like Tuesday. (Days...running together) I really loved when the pediatricians would come in and declare Cooper "Completely perfect" and hated when my OB would come in and push on my belly, OH MAN IT KILLS!!! 
  One interesting thing that happened was that the pediatrician was supposed to come Wednesday night between 5:30 and 6:30 after he finished at the office, and do Cooper's circumcision.  Dave wouldn't be back yet and I wanted someone to be with Coop...OTHER THAN ME, so my mom came to be with him.  Unfortunately the Dr. Carroll (Who I LOVE!) was running a little late...as in...he didn't come until 10 pm! Mom of course was long gone, and so was Dave.  I said several prayers for Coop and sent him off with some tears in my eyes.  20 or so minutes later the Dr. came back, without Cooper, and said the nurses would be bringing him back shortly, but that everything went great.  We chatted for few minutes about post-op care and he left. I waited very impatiently for Cooper to arrive, and another 20 minutes passed. I broke down and called the nurse's station, and my nurse headed in.  I asked where Cooper was and she casually said she had dropped him off in the nursery.  That made me almost sick with anxiety. Why? I don't know...I guess because I loved having him with me, I NEEDED him with me, and also he just had a little surgery, HE NEEDED HIS MOM TO COMFORT HIM!!!  I asked for her to please bring Cooper to me, and she, still not understanding that I was slightly hyperventilating inside, said, sure, she had some meds to drop off to some other rooms and would then go get him.  I asked, could I please just go get him right then?  She looked a little surprised and taken back, but said, ok.  I gingerly walked to the nursery and got my sweet boy, an I've never been so happy to see him.
  Thursday we had a bit of a difficult day.  Really, the only hard day we've had yet.  Starting in the Morning, Cooper refused to latch. He would shake his head and pull away and yelp (still at this point, not a big screamer or cryer) and wouldn't have anything to do with it. I just skipped that feeding but the same thing happened again in a few hours, and I think he was getting hungry, because my perfect little boy, was getting fussy. FUSSY? That was new!  I called the Lactation consultant and she came in and tried and tried but Cooper was NOT having it.  He was also getting slightly hysterical, and gave his first real cries since the moment after he was delivered.  It was breaking my heart, and bring back my nursing anxiety, and completely ruining my baby high!  She brought in all sorts of contraptions and got me set up with the tiny tubes that you tape to your breast while your baby breastfeeds. It tubes in a little formula, but is supposed to trick your baby so they don't know they are getting formula, they don't have to drink out of a bottle, and they don't stop latching.   That worked for one feeding, and he went to town, clearly he was hungry.  I calmed slightly, because he was fed, and my dream of nursing was still alive.  The next two feedings did not go well like the first and after the second attempt Cooper was out of his mind, screaming hysterically, and it took me a half hour to console him.  Anyone who knows/knew of my previous post-partum and feeding issues, will understand when I say that this situation put me completely on the edge. I was so sad, and mad, and worried, and angry. I was NOT going to let nursing ruin what was quickly becoming the best experience of my life, SO WHY WAS I FEELING SO GUILTY????  I was wracked with guilt.  It was all left over from my last experience. I tried to remind myself that after I got over my post partum with Jaxon, and from that point, I had decided that if I ever had another baby, that if the milk was not absolutely flowing freely from my breasts, that I would ditch nursing and never look back, and to H with a CAPITAL H to anyone who had anything to say about it.  So WHY WHY WHY was this killing me? I talked to a good friend, and Dave who both said, make the decision that I thought was best, pray about it, and go from there.  Cooper would not suffer if I didn't nurse, so if I  was suffering so bad, don't worry about it. 
  Cooper was clearly getting hungry and I was not about to try to put him to the breast again, so I fed him one of the little bottles of formula that I had been using to pipe milk into his nursing.  It went amazingly well, he ate the whole 2 ounces, and was perfectly content.  I talked to the lactation consultant and she wheeled in the big ol' pump machine, which again struck fear into my heart. That machine haunted me for 6 weeks after Jaxon was born, as I prayed, wished, begged, and hoped for it to make by breasts work.  It never did. 
  I prayed, thought, and came to a decision.  I was done nursing. I was not going to put myself or Cooper through it.  I was going to bottle feed, and pump, and if my milk supply came in, GREAT! I would pump as long as it was there, and I would just bottle feed him the breast milk.  I was immediately so much more calm and at peace, but still not without a lot of guilt about my decision.  I sobbed most of the next few hours, and thank heavens for a wonderful nurse, friend, and husband who all had a heart to heart with me to put my mind at ease.  I slept well that night as I was exhausted from my emotional day, and woke up with a much better outlook. I knew I made the right decision, and I was going to move forward.  I would just pump after Cooper ate, and every time got nothing from the left, and maybe 3 drops from the right. It was not very promising, and not making me really want to continue.  I decided I really wanted to try though, and kept at it.
   I can't think of much else of note that happened, just enjoyed my time with Coop, visits from family and friends, rested, and enjoyed ordering my meals and being taken care of.  I had to leave Friday, and although we could have stayed till the evening, I was ready to go after breakfast.  This again is a real testament to my mindset, because when we had to leave the hospital with Jaxon, and was literally sobbing, and nearly hysterical.  I would have probably stayed there for his entire first year had I been able.  This time I was ready to move on with my sweet family. I was missing seeing Jaxon and being there for him, and was ready to head HOME!  And by home, I mean my parents house where we are staying while we wait to hear on the house we put an offer on.  Knowing  I was coming home to my mom, who has a very tender spot for anyone who has a c-section (she had 5!!!!) and that she was ready to take care of me, I was completely at peace, and excited to move on. 
  Friday morning was literally POURING RAIN!  We put Cooper in his car seat for the first time, and I love and am in awe of that moment, where you are reminded again how tiny this precious little baby is, when they are barely a tiny little lump in the bottom of the already tiny car seat!  Dave loaded the car, then brought it around and we headed home to our new adventure!  Sitting down on the couch at home with my angel baby felt just perfect. Perfectly perfect. More to come-