Ellen

Scared. Hopeful. Resilient.

My pregnancy and delivery were far from what I imagined and hoped they would be. I think what I have learned most since having my daughter is to have no expectations of how things will go as a parent. I had a very stressful and hard pregnancy-a good part due to the pandemic beginning when I was 12 weeks pregnant. Working from home was one obstacle but adding onto it the worry of getting sick, my husband not being allowed into my doctor appointments, and having absolutely no idea how the world was going to look come my due date became very scary and frustrating. After months of reflection I realize how much mourning I needed to go through after my daughters birth. I am a planner through and through so all the uncertainty was not for me. I was not able to have the baby shower I had “planned” for years. My husband was not allowed to come to the ultrasound where we would find out if we were having a boy or a girl. Most people in my life did not even know or see me pregnant one time.

The day I gave birth I received a call from my doctor letting me know there was protein in my urine and that I was at the beginning stages of preeclampsia. I would need to come into the hospital right away and would most likely have my daughter that morning. I called my husband to come back home as he had just arrived at work. The drive to the hospital was exciting and terrifying. We did not tell any of our family or friends we were on our way since it was 3 weeks before my due date and we didn’t want anyone to worry unless they needed to.

Once I was admitted and in the surgery prep room (my daughter was breech) things started to become very real and scary. My husband had left the room so the nurses could begin my IV’s (he is not good with blood/needles). After 5 or so nurses tried to insert my IV with no luck it became very apparent my body wasn’t going to let me off easily. They also did my COVID tests which just added to the mess. After an hour I was finally prepped and ready to walk to surgery. That walk alone into the cold, sterile, white room is burned into my memory. Once I had my spinal block and was all draped up my husband was able to come in. The look on his face was pure terror. As I later found out another surgery room had alarms going off and he thought I was in that room which set him off into a spiral. Luckily, it wasn’t mine and once he held my hand we were ready to meet our girl. I remember repeating to myself “stay present- don’t let this take you”. I was incredibly worried I would pass out or something would go wrong and I’d miss her. The anesthesiologist kept giving me play by plays which I had asked for and was so thankful for him. The minute I heard her cries I felt a joy unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. I asked “does she have a lot of hair?!” Which she definitely did. Holding her for the first time was bliss and I’ll never forget it.

Once we were back in the room as a family of three I was hit with the realization that things just didn’t feel right. I just had major surgery and I felt like no one had ever had a discussion with me on how you will feel like you were hit by a truck but were still expected to feed your baby and make health decisions for yourself and her immediately. That is my truest regret from this all. I never had the hard conversations with people about what a c-section (or vaginal birth) really entails. And no one ever really talks about how you, as a new mother, feel post-op.

After a few hours the nurses are starting to become concerned about my blood pressure. I tried to remain calm but it continued to rise. Once the nurse brought in padding for my hospital bed since “there is a chance I could have a seizure with blood pressure that high” I knew I wasn’t prepared for anything like this. I was then put on a magnesium drip for 24 hours. If you want to know what that feels like imagine your entire body and mind is on fire. I couldn’t safely hold my newborn daughter. Or have a conversation with my husband on how beautiful she is. I know my daughter has no recollection of that but it is a day I visit in my memory often of how I missed her so much it ached in places I didn’t know existed. During this magnesium nightmare I needed to have my catheter put back in. My poor amazing husband had been emptying my bed pan up to this point (gotta love him!). About 30 minutes after it was put it I realize something isn’t right and the nurse sees my catheter is not emptying correctly. She calls in another 2 nurses for help. I think that is up there in the top 5 most painful experiences of my life as it took many tries to get it set. All I wanted was to lay in bed, watch a movie and smell my newborn daughter. It all just seemed like a bad dream.

The day we are set to leave I still just don’t feel right. I have never felt this type of terror before. I expressed my concerns but the doctor insisted everything looked fine to him and to head on home. That night was scarier than the magnesium trip. My husband ended up calling my mom at 2am because he didn’t know what was wrong with me. I spent the next few hours laying in bed with my mom holding me because I just didn’t know what else to do. I thought I was preparing to not wake up the next day. I can’t imagine the worry I caused her that night. The next morning we headed to my doctor who sent me to the ER for tests. 6 hours later they tell me things look fine but I needed to sleep and eat (ha!). I don’t think I had gotten more than a few hours a night for the past month or two thanks to V not wanting me to lay down while pregnant. I was not sure how I would succeed in sleeping as we had a newborn at home. And eating seemed out of the question as I had zero appetite.

During this time my husband had asked his mom to come stay with us for a few days. They live out of state but of course the amazing mom and grandma she is, she appeared at our door 5 hours later. That day was what I later figured out to be the start of PTSD, severe postpartum anxiety and postpartum depression. Those following months I lost an extreme amount of weight, was terrified everyday something was seriously wrong with me, didn’t feel safe to care for my child alone, could barely walk up the steps but it felt like I had pressure to just move on. It’s a pressure I still continue to feel to this day as a mom. I saw countless doctors and almost every single one of them barely listened to what I had to say and only wanted to prescribe me anti-depressants. How had no one ever told me that I’d wake up from sleep drenched in sweat, have intrusive thoughts about my daughter being stolen as we slept, have random hot flashes throughout the day or heart palpitations that stop you in your tracks. It finally took an ER trip around 10:30 on the night of my 30th birthday for a very kind, mother of 3, ER doctor to sit down with me and have an honest conversation. She was the first person to tell me that it took her over year to feel like a person again after the birth of her son. Whoa! Someone actually validating what I was feeling and telling me that it’s ok. After that late night I felt like I was able to find some strength to work on my recovery. I leaned on so many people in those first few months (and even now) to help with V. I tried to take time for myself, started eating meals, I went for walks and let the sun kiss my face as often as I could, and I allowed others to help. I sometimes think back to the day I ate a whole sandwich a month or two later for the first time. The look on my mom and mother-in-law's faces when they looked at each other and did a little happy dance for me always reminds me of the amount of love and grace it took from those two and my husband to get through each day. I have tried countless other things in the past 16 months. Some worked and some didn’t but I am not going to give up trying to be as healthy and present as I can be for my family. I started talking to a therapist about 4 months postpartum and it was a game changer. I could only cry to my husband, mom, mother-in-law, sister-in-law or friend so many times before it would become too much for them. Having someone who didn’t know me sympathize with what I was going through helped lift the fog.

There are still so many days I still feel something isn’t quite right but spending the days with my daughter remind me that she is what is right with the world. She is the reason I went searching for a creative outlet and found photography. She is the reason I want to tell postpartum mom stories.

This Postpartum Series of black and white photos has helped me heal without any of these moms knowing. I love spending time with a recent postpartum mom just to see how they are (really) doing and to see the joy in their face while kissing and snuggling their newborn. These photos are meant to show what it actually looks like being a mom. These are “no makeup or hair done, you are beautiful just as you are” photos. I also wanted to bring to light how little we talk about postpartum. It’s a scary but beautiful time, especially for a first time mom. I wanted these sessions to be about connection with another mom. I wanted to check-in and see how they were. I have hopes that the answers to the questions I ask all these moms can bring another mom peace, laughter or to feel less alone when you are up late at night with a crying newborn. I want this series to be a reflection of the love they have for their child which is unlike any other love. I hope you enjoy this series as much as I do. If you are expecting or are a recent postpartum mom please reach out to me! If you know of a recent postpartum mom who could use some extra light and love, pass on my contact information.