Feeling "off", recognizing Postpartum Depression (part 1)

(excerpted from a comprehensive article by the Mayo Clinic; see the complete information here)

"An estimated 10 percent of new moms experience a severe form of emotional distress known as postpartum depression.

Postpartum depression may appear to be the baby blues at first — but the signs and symptoms are more intense and longer lasting, eventually interfering with your ability to care for your baby and handle other daily tasks. Signs and symptoms of postpartum depression may include:

• Loss of appetite
• Overwhelming fatigue
• Lack of joy in life
• Feelings of shame, guilt or inadequacy
• Severe mood swings
• Difficulty bonding with the baby
• Withdrawal from family and friends
• Thoughts of harming yourself or the baby..."

Some more interesting food for thought...

Mothers of preemies or women who have had very difficult, complicated pregnancies may be even more prone to the deep anxiety and intense emotions that go along with postpartum depression (PPD).

When you consider the roller coaster ride that preemies take their parents on, the sudden (unexpected) shift of hormones, the limited contact the mother is allowed with her baby, and the strained quality of some personal relationships during a crisis of this kind, it becomes more clear why preemie moms are particularly vulnerable to PPD.

My own struggle with PPD started a couple weeks after C's birth. I was getting very little sleep (about two hours a night), eating very little, and having a hard time keeping down what I did eat. Between running around, not really eating, and pumping every few hours, I lost weight until I was well below my (healthy) pre-pregnancy weight. I never really felt detached from my child, nor did I ever entertain thoughts of hurting her. But I was crippled with guilt. I wondered what I had done wrong that I couldn't sustain the pregnancy. I felt inadequate in caring for either of my children. My activities were limited because of my surgery and that made me feel like an even greater failure. I was exhausted, yet I couldn't stop going. It was a horrible cycle.

One evening, I headed back to the Ronald McDonald House after visiting my daughter. It was during rush hour and I had to cross a four-lane city street. My mind was wandering and I vividly remember this thought jumping to the fore-front:

"What if I just stepped out in the road?"

I immediatly stepped back. My heart started racing. The very thought terrified me to the core.

And for that, I am very grateful. It is because I was so incredibly frightened that I sought help the very next day. It was not easy to confess that thought to my husband. It was not easy to take several hours to get myself evaluated rather than sit at my baby's bedside. But it clearly had to be done.

Tomorrow, I'll talk a little bit about taking that step, what happened, and the start of my recovery.

Storing expressed breast milk?

This week, Rocks in My Dryer is hosting a BACKWARDS Works-For-Me Wednesday, in which you ask a question and get your readers' best solutions.

So my question for you all is this...

In your opinion, what is the best, safest way to store expressed breast milk?

I am happy to say that this stage is behind us with our preemie daughter. However, it's also an area where I think I kind of "floundered around". I was a champion milk producer (I was once referred to as, ahem, a cow by someone at the hospital...) and I struggled to store/transport all that milk.

Since I fear my methods were just all over the map, what do you all suggest to people currently facing this challenge? What's the safest, most efficient way to store and transport expressed breast milk for your NICU baby? What "works for you"?

Please help us all out by leaving a comment!

Post-Partum Depression Series

I want to let you all know that I'll be kicking off a mini-series (3 days) on post-partum depression starting tomorrow. This is a very serious condition that can affect mothers across the board. It seemed to be particularly common among the NICU moms that I met.

This topic has been really hot and controversial in the media over the past few years. I'll be speaking candidly about my own experiences and welcome you to do the same. I ask that we all refrain from judging others in the comments.

I'm looking forward to opening a few doors of discussion and hopefully shedding some light on what sometimes feels like a very lonely condition.

I'll be opening tomorrow with a discussion about when you start to feel "off" and recognizing early signs. Check back with me!

Hospital Grade Breast Pump

For more than four months, the breast pump was my near-constant companion. We couldn't make the 2-hr (each way) trek home without it. I couldn't sleep through a night without a visit to it. I could attach all those parts and components in the dark with no contacts or glasses in record time. I cannot say that I always loved the breast pump that we rented from the hospital. But I will say that I'm glad I didn't have to live without it. It is a tool that was worth its weight in gold. Liquid gold. : ) Because of all that efficient pumping, my daughter was able to be fed breast milk, exclusively.

If you have a very premature baby, I would encourage you to try pumping for your child. There are so very many benefits for these babies. If, for whatever reason, you are not able to, please check out this post on saving money on specialty formula.

In the near future (perhaps next week?), I'll be doing a short series going into a little more detail about pumping for your infant.

For more great tools, check out Toolin' Up Tuesday hosted at Life as Mom.

Butter Cookies for Baby

When you get to start feeding your infant some finger foods, Cheerios and puffs are classic examples. I recommend both and think they're convenient, safe choices.

If you would like some fun, variety, and involvement in preparing finger food for your baby, I love the following butter cookie recipe. A traditional holiday cookie in our home when I was a child, these were always a favorite of mine. Making them for my babies means I don't have to wait for Christmas! This recipe has very basic ingredients in it, making it a great choice for young children:

Butter Cookies

• 1 cup butter
• 1 cup powdered sugar
• 1 egg
• 2 tsp vanilla
• 1 tsp salt
• 2 1/2 cups flour
• plain and colored sugar

Cream butter; add sugar gradually; beat in egg and vanilla. Blend in salt and flour. Chill. Shape rounded teaspoonfuls of dough into balls. Place on ungreased cookie sheets. Flatten cookies with tines of fork, dipped in plain sugar and then sprinkle with colored sugar. Bake at 375 degrees for about 10 minutes. Makes about 6 dozen or so.

These cookies have no "chunks" in them and they essentially dissolve in the mouth, making them a wonderful first cookie for baby!

For more recipes and tips, visit Kitchen Tip Tuesday hosted at Tammy's Recipes!

"My Story..." Monday, the background edition...

Last week, I told you I would be sharing C's birth story today. A Story Swap at Life as Mom prompted me to move up the schedule and post C's story here. So, instead of the dramatic story of our little girl's arrival, I will share with you all some details about my pregnancy to give you a better idea of how it came to pass the my daughter arrived so darn early...

I've mentioned my son A. many times in this blog. He was born in January of 2005, one week past his due date, weighing in at 8 lb even. I had an uneventful pregnancy, though I did suffer from some pretty intense morning sickness that eventually landed me in the hospital at 5 months due to dehydration. They pumped me full of fluid and I was good-to-go. My blood pressure was great, my blood sugar was great, my weight gain (at 29 lb) was considered perfect. I went into labor around midnight and gave birth at 8:05 am... not bad for a first baby. I had a vaginal birth with my son and it was amazing. Right after the delivery, my husband asked how I was doing... I replied, "I can't WAIT to do it again!" Little did I know...

Five months later, a sudden aversion to shrimp sent me reaching for the second pregnancy test that came in the twin-pack we bought when I suspected I was pregnant the first time. Two pink lines later, I knew I would be having another baby a mere 14 months after the first. Holy cow! I was filled with mixed emotions... thrilled to be welcoming another child into our homes, worried that it would somehow cut our first child's "babyhood" short.

My pregnancy seemed very like the first. Excellent blood pressure. Severe morning sickness (though this time it hit me in the evenings). Little to no "showing". This time around, however, we faced a lot of stress and tragedy during the early parts of my pregnancy. Unemployment. Settling into a new home. The loss of a parent. My husband finally finding a job, but having a two hour commute each way. About six weeks into the pregnancy, I started bleeding. The on-call OB in the emergency room (we were already at the hospital because of a family member) told me I was likely miscarrying. I was advised to return in 48 hours so they could check my hormone levels.

My levels went way up. The pregnancy was intact. I was assured that I was not at any increased risk for problems from that point forward. We were thrilled. Absolutely full of joy. Incredibly blessed.

My pregnancy progressed with no real problems. I was still pretty sick. I had a hard time gaining weight; I had only gained a half a pound by the end of the fourth month. My OB told me to "Eat, eat, eat! Anything that sounds good!" That meant I ate a whole lot of extra sharp cheddar cheese. I managed to gain four pounds in that next month. Hurray! They would be checking my sugar at the next appointment, but none of us had any concerns about it.

At 22 weeks 5 days pregnant, I got out of bed to go take a shower. My husband had already left for work. I walked in the dark to retrieve a towel, then went to the bathroom. When I glanced down, I saw my thighs smeared with blood. Total panic ensued and I struggled to gain composure. Neither my husband nor I had cell phones, so there was no reaching him until he arrived at his job, two hours away. I called the doctor's office and was told to come in as soon as I could, but not to drive. So I waited for my hubby to get to work, called him, and he made the two hour drive back in record time. Seriously, I have no idea how he got home to me so fast.

The OB examined me and noticed a small tear on my cervix, but no dilation. He cauterized the tear and ordered me to refrain from certain activities. I was put on bed-rest for two days and that was that. Phew. No big deal, apparently. Life went on.

It was exactly one week later that I started to bleed again. You can see the rest of that story here.

Holidays in the NICU

On Saturday, I talked about weekends in the NICU and how to take advantage of them. Holidays are very similar in that they just keep on coming and it's business as usual at the hospital. Often, the nurses do little things that help to make it more special and festive. At our children's hospital, they had seasonal name tags on each module door with the babies' names. We came home with a santa hat, a snowflake, a heart, a shamrock, and an Easter egg. That gives you an idea of our journey...

Celebrating holidays with a child in the NICU is not without its challenges. Traditions must change by necessity. The Thanksgiving feast may need to be celebrated with turkey sandwiches and cranberry juice in the family lounge. Christmas trees may shrink from eight feet to two. The 4th of July cookout may become take-out burgers and cokes. Nonetheless, try very hard to acknowledge the holidays.

Our Christmas looked like this: C. was only one day old, still fighting to hang in there in the NICU, and I was recovering from my emergency C-section as my body fought to replenish the three units of blood that I lost. My ever-obliging hubby had made the long trek home the evening before to schlep our presents and a miniature tree to my hospital room. Christmas Eve night, we exchanged our gifts and opened those from my long-distance family, including those labeled "Baby S." because she shouldn't have been in the world yet! I choked back tears as I opened the Old Navy maternity jeans I had requested. The next day, my husband's family arrived with my ten-month old son and he opened his Santa gifts. He also snuggled next to me on my hospital bed as I sang Christmas carols to him. After that, we all made the journey to the NICU to see our baby daughter. Was it a typical Christmas? Not even close. Was it ideal? Not really. But was it memorable and special? You better believe it. Here are the three things that were evident in our Christmas celebration:

1. Family
2. Faith
3. Unity

I will never, ever forget that very special Christmas...

When New Year's crept up a week later, we dined at the Ronald McDonald house and cheered as a sweet junior high aged girl slowly dropped a glittery ball of foil down from a balcony. Who needs Times Square?

January brought about our son's first birthday. We hosted a penguin-themed party at an aunt's home who lived far closer to the hospital than we did. I was a nervous wreck and called the NICU several times, but C. had a happy, uneventful day. It was vital that we not forget our older child as we worried over our daughter's health. Watching our big, healthy boy smash his first cake was some of the best therapy we could have received.

On Valentine's Day, my husband and I checked in on our daughter, got our son tucked in for the night, then shared a quiet glass of wine and reflected on how thankful we were for the love and bond we shared... despite it all.

On St. Patrick's Day, we asked the nurses for a bright, emerald green bow to stick on our baby girl's fuzzy little head. That was the day she hit 5 lb! Big, big day...

And for Easter? Well, I'm happy to say that for Easter, we were home. We were able to have an Easter egg hunt in our own yard with all the cousins. C. wore a fancy-pants taffeta preemie dress (still too big for her) and frilly little socks. But had we not been released yet, you can bet we would have hid eggs all around our room at the Ronald McDonald house and let our then one-year old crawl all over on the hunt!

My point in all these reflections?

I just want to encourage those of you who are currently facing long days and weeks and months in the NICU to celebrate in small ways. Today is Labor Day-- pick up some burgers to go and some flag napkins and have yourselves a mini-feast. As the first day of Fall rolls around, consider cutting out some bright paper leaves to hang around your baby's isolette or crib (check on your hospital's policy). I'll post some fun celebration ideas as other occasions roll around.

Make some memories. Share some moments. Trust me when I tell you this... these are the holidays you'll never forget. Do your best to make them happy memories.