Today has been a bit of a rough day. It led to being pretty restless this evening and while I was able to spend time outside on my porch, it still didn’t feel like I was content, if that makes sense.

I love my job. So, so much. It is incredibly refreshing to have a job that I feel like my boss has my back and my coworkers are all there with the common goal: get the job done but enjoy ourselves as much as you can while at work. But the only downside I have found is that because this company is really one of the best I’ve seen, people don’t typically leave for new jobs. They stay until they retire. Which means my coworkers are mostly all well versed in the manufacturing world. Some with 37 years under their belts. Most with at least 15. Then here I come, a newbie to the world of manufacturing and with zero clue about much of anything, and there are a lot of times that I feel like an idiot.

My coworkers are so incredibly helpful, patient and fun. But I am hard on myself. Probably harder than others are on me to be honest. I think that’s normal though.

Every thing I did today was met with resistance from something. It was just a really frustrating day. And luckily I don’t have many of those anymore.

Having a rough day makes the evenings kinda suck. I’m working on that. I think tonight could’ve been worse, I could have really let it effect me. But I was able to relax a little and just enjoy the breeze outside.

When the days are tough now, I just remind myself of how difficult they were a year ago. 2 years ago. 4 years ago. Things have gotten significantly better and I’m thankful for that.

This is probably a repeat of information but to play catch up, I figured I’d repost it with some added information.

In March of 2023 I had a really bad period. I had felt a pain that I have never felt before, I was bleeding very heavily and I was concerned. The Dr wanted me to get an ultrasound but I was fine after about a day of pain and I couldn’t afford the ultrasound so I declined it.

In April, I had routine bloodwork to check on my hormone levels. My platelets were concerningly low. My Dr immediately referred me to an oncologist/hematologist to dig deeper.

By May, my symptoms were a tired that I’ve never been, terrible breathing just sitting there, getting out of breath by talking, pale skin, irritability, and like I said- pure exhaustion. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again- I would take being 40 weeks pregnant over how I felt in May.

After seeing me in May, the hematologist ordered a bone marrow biopsy to rule out leukemia and other scary things. The results were back by the end of May and it came back no cancer (hallelujah!), but I had no iron in my bone marrow. At all. Which is insane. Iron carries oxygen through your blood to your organs. So when I was telling people I couldn’t breathe, I literally couldn’t get oxygen. I wasn’t crazy. I wasn’t obese (I am but that wasn’t why I felt so terrible.) Within 2 weeks I was receiving my first round of iron infusions.

An iron infusion is really interesting. I went into the infusion area at the oncologist office. They take you back, get you comfortable in a nice lazy boy rocking chair/recliner. They get you an iv going and after about 10 minutes of that saline, they start the bag of iron. The iron takes about 30 minutes or so to go through, they run the saline again after and monitor you for 15 minutes for any reactions. Once they’ve cleared you- you go on your way. The nurses are all so nice and positive. And the people in there are going through the worst of the worst and yet they are so happy and positive. They’re receiving chemo and/or infusions. Some of them are so sick. But they still smile at you and make conversation and it really is a family no one wants to be a part of. I was so angry and scared and selfish. I would ask myself why me like seriously why? I just finally got my mind right and started feeling like myself again and damn it now I’m sick?! What the hell?! But that first infusion completely changed my mindset. The people I met along this journey- man. They are the heroes.

The hematologist told me that in his opinion, based on my symptoms and the things I discussed with him, that my anemia was due to my periods. He wasn’t concerned about my platelets. He said that is an autoimmune disorder. But the iron was the main issue at this point. Once I received the infusions, he said I should feel much better. I did. For about 2 months. He told me he would see me again at the end of August to see if I needed another round of infusions and that in the mean time- get with my gynecologist to determine why I’m having issues all the sudden.

June 6th was my last infusion. By the end of July, I was starting to get out of breath easily again, my skin started to get pale again, I was starting to get tired quickly. I called my hematologist to see if I could get in earlier than the end of August. They were luckily able to get me in within 2 weeks to see him and another 2 weeks for the second round of infusions.

In the meantime, I met with my gynecologist to run some tests. He did an ultrasound and found out I have a small cyst on my right ovary. But other than that- there was no real reason why I was having this pain and heavy bleeding. Options were presented to us: birth control, IUD, ablation, hysterectomy.

We decided that given my delivery(and current blood level issues) that having any more children was not in the cards for us. To be honest, that decision was made after my traumatic delivery with lily. I knew from the get go that I could never emotionally go through something like that again and most importantly; I refused to take lily’s mom away from her because of my want to have another child. Because the reality is I would have likely bled out again. And who knows if I would’ve survived it this time.

So closing the chapter on having any more kids- wasn’t really closing it. It had already been closed. But there was still some emotional baggage that needed to be addressed. I grieved the absoluteness of a hysterectomy. Saying you’re done having kids and actually doing something about it are two different things. I cried, a lot. I was angry. I was sad. I’m frustrated that this decision was kinda made for us by the fact that my blood levels are so out of whack that the gynecologist told me that it would be incredibly dangerous for me to get pregnant at this time. That my delivery was so traumatic, making me never want to do it again. That my uterus is making life impossible. All of it. Sucks.

I had to way the options. If I don’t have a hysterectomy I’m more than likely going to continue to need infusions every 2 to 3 months. That means every 2 months I will have to miss work for a Dr appointment, another appointment for labs and then 2 appointments for infusions. Not only is that me missing work basically once a week every other month for a month straight. But it’s expensive. I don’t have that kind of money. I haven’t had a full 80 hour paycheck (I’m paid biweekly) since April to put it into perspective. I’m missing at least half a day a week for appointments or tests or infusions. I can’t keep that up.

Not only is the financial aspect of it impossible but the emotional and physical. When my iron depletes (roughly every 2 months) I start to feel terrible. All the symptoms I listed before. I am not as good of a mom as I want to be or as lily deserves when I’m so sick.

Why can’t I just take iron supplements? It takes roughly 3 months for iron supplements to build up in your system. You also can’t overload your system of iron. I can’t even get leveled out in iron enough to begin to take the supplements. Before they’d have time to make a difference-i would need an infusion. So supplements aren’t an option at this point.

If I have a hysterectomy- I’m looking at a lot of scary symptoms. Early menopause if they take my ovaries. Possible prolapse. Possible infections. Possible bladder issues. My blood levels have to be optimal or I run the risk of bleeding out.

But with all the negatives- I still feel like a hysterectomy is a better choice for me. It’s time to get my levels back to normal and to start feeling better and enjoying life again.

That leads me to the current state of what’s going on. In order to have my surgery, which is scheduled for September 7th, we have to get my blood levels back up. First thing was to do another round of infusions. I went in for my first iron infusion on August 17th and had no issues. Went back the 24th and they tried 7 times but couldn’t get a vein to cooperate and withstand an infusion. So I went back on the 28th and they tried another 8 times. It never worked. I was upset because I thought this could very well derail my surgery if my iron is still low. But my arms were so bruised and I just couldn’t put up with getting stuck anymore. So I went home to wait for the next step.

Which was today, August 30th. I met with the anesthesiologist for a consult, had a pre op with my gynecologist and a lab draw which I was dreading cause good lord please stop sticking me! The Dr said he wants my platelets at least above 100,000 prior to the surgery. The plan is the morning of my surgery to get a bag of platelets to boost me. So my platelets had to be about 75,000 today to even be considered possible to get the surgery on the 7th. I was really nervous that it wouldn’t be and that we’d have to postpone it until my levels get higher.

I got my lab results back at about 5pm today. And my platelets are 95,000. Which means after my platelets infusion/transfusion(?) the morning of surgery they should at the lowest be 115,000. At the better end of things they will be 135,000. Either way- high enough to keep the surgery scheduled at this point. My iron is also high for me (67) and my hemoglobin, which the Dr wanted at 10 at least- is at 14.5 so I’m doing good. I’m able to breathe a little bit, for now.

I will hear from the hematologist tomorrow (possibly) but no matter what- I see him September 5th to wrap things up and get a plan set for surgery day and after the fact. Then Thursday morning, it’ll determine what my levels are at that point- if we can proceed with surgery. So while things are still up in the air until the morning of, really, every step that comes back good- I’m able to breathe a little easier.

I’m not announcing the hysterectomy yet because i don’t want negative stories. I need to sort my emotions out and I just need support. I just need someone to tell me that this is the best choice for me if that’s what I feel, along with my doctors (all 3 of them).

I’m scared for a lot of reasons- I don’t want to bleed out and die obviously. It’s robotic so it’s not as invasive as a hip to hip type cut. But it’s still scary. I’m scared of the recovery and being in pain and jb going back to work and me being home at night with lily alone and having to get up and deal with her if she wakes up at night. I’m afraid. I’m not gonna lie. But, I’m more afraid if I don’t do this what the quality of my life will be.

I’ll keep updating as things progress.

Today we made the difficult decision to put our sweet Aggie down. She was almost 14 and old age was catching up to her. The bitter cold we had last week was just too hard on her. After seeing the vet we determined it was most likely her heart giving out. My sweet girl brought so many memories with her. The story of how we came to adopt aggie is pretty funny.

Jb and I were living in Indianapolis at the time and he was working nights. I wanted a dog to help make me feel safe. So off I went to the humane society. I walked through the dog area and found a few bigger dogs that I was interested in doing a meet and greet with. I went up to the counter to tell the ladies working which dogs I wanted to see. One lady said “have you met aggie?” And put this fat, ugly looking dog on the counter. Out of guilt I took her to the meet and greet area. I’m not sure if it was because I felt guilted into it, if in my heart I knew she was going to be the best dog ever or if I just simply temporarily lost my mind but in any case, I decided to adopt her. After they cleared jb as well, we took her home.

The first night in bed I remember laying there asking jb if we made a mistake. What if I don’t love her like I love molly and spaz? What will we do cause I’m sure as hell not surrendering her again.

See… we are the third owners of Miss Agitha. The first owners had her for about 7 years but due to being older and put on a budget they couldn’t afford her lavish lifestyle anymore(the girl had to have special, expensive dog food!). So they had to surrender her. A family quickly adopted her only to just as quickly turn her back in because she didn’t get along with their other dogs, had accidents in the house and just wasn’t the right fit. So in came us. Third time is a charm. I knew that surrendering her was not gonna happen. But what I didn’t know was how much she would go through with us.

Aggie was a princess while she lived with us. She was spoiled, loved and treated like royalty. Maybe less once lily came along but she knew she had a big piece of our hearts.

I will miss her cuddles, her snorts, her hilarious antics like eating dryer sheets and q tips. Stealing Kleenex right out of the box and running away with them. And barking at squirrels then running and hiding behind me.

Aggie was loved. And I hope she knows that. I miss her so much already.

Jenn

Last night lily slept for 10 hours straight. It was beautiful. Magical, really. Tonight I was hoping for the same sweetness. We went to bed. I was finally drifting off into dreamland.

Less than an hour into sleepy town she started to fuss. I’d give her the paci, shush her, the usual “please please please go back to sleep” actions. It dawned on me with a rather smelly funk that there was a particular reason she was awake. A particular smelly reason.

So we got up, changed the stinky diaper, made another bottle and settled in for a hopefully quick interruption into our slumber.

I feel I should mention 2 things….1. My wonderful husband was up to witness what happened next. And 2. She’s been getting miralax for two days now.

That’s when it happened. Another round of poopville. My husband was feeding her while I was in the bathroom. The reaction I heard through the door was priceless. I was laughing at his oh my God this is awful and gags. Don’t worry, karma got me…

I came out to assess the damage and change her. This was a two person job. As I was wiping it happened. The fart heard around the room….. and with it….poop. There was poop on my hand. Jb lost it. I’m pretty sure there was a point he was actually rolling on the floor laughing. I got myself cleaned up quickly, covered up the weapon of mass destruction and handed her off so I could properly dispose of the waste.

My words to my husband as we walked out of the nursery, him with the baby, me with the poop hand….”have a baby they said. It’ll be beautiful they said….. they lied.”

Now here we are, still awake, rocking, she’s talking(grunting) to herself, I’m questioning my life choices(not really) and jb is still on the floor in stitches. It’s good to be me.

Jenn

I feel like my posts have been more “ranting” or bringing awareness rather than humor. I definitely want to use my blog as a place to bring awareness and obviously will use it to rant (🤷‍♀️) but I want to make sure to include some humor.

This week we started Lily on baby food. I had pretty much planned on making her baby food from the get go. That way I can mix flavors, add veggies with the fruit and most importantly know what is in her food. I also decided to start with avocado. The amount of shocked looks I get when I say that cracks me up. One of my best friends, who actually had her son exactly 2 weeks before I had lily, was who told me about doing avocado. It’s so nutritious for them, you can mix it with fruits later on and I love the idea of masking her veggies with her fruits Haha.

The first time I tried avocado with her I think she was ok with it but struggled with trying to figure out how to eat using a spoon. I tried it again yesterday and the gags were real, ya’ll. I was expecting some pukage but she held it together pretty well haha.

I’m not sure if it’s the texture, the taste or just the newness of eating baby food. But I’m not totally against store bought or cereal. So I might try cereal just to see if she does better with that before we move on to zucchini after the avocado.

How cute is she though?

But all this avocado talk has made me want guacamole. 🥑

Jenn

As I’ve mentioned before and will probably mention a million more times- I have horrible anxiety. I honestly can’t remember a time I didn’t. Even as a young child- I just didn’t know why I felt the way I felt and what the cause of my stomach issues were.

Today I had a panic attack. Also as I stated before I do not function well on little to no sleep. Well last night and to be honest the past few nights have been rough. Lily is congested again(I’m moving south!) Which means she wakes up constantly. I ended up sleeping in the chair with her. It just wasn’t a good night. I also feel like I’m getting run down and fighting off some sort of sickness. After work today I needed a nap. I figured we’d nap together. But she had other plans which included not napping. I started to have a panic attack. I calmed myself down a couple of times. At one point I put her in the swing and laid down and just cried. I finally pulled myself together and took lily out on the porch getting us both some much needed fresh air. I realized then that she had a blowout. Anxiety attack over. Who would have thought of that as a way to snap you out of it hahaha.

Side note: I’m beyond over sickness. I feel like she’s been sick since November. I don’t know how to help her build her immunity. I’m guessing the weather going from -50 last week to 50 this week is what her problem is and probably mine as well. But I’m exhausted and frustrated and I need her to be healthy. I use humidifiers, oil diffusers and on and on. If anyone has any advice please let me know.

Anxiety is awful and if you are lucky to not suffer from it I’m so jealous. It feels like I can’t catch my breath, the walls are closing in, if I don’t move then I’ll stop breathing. My thoughts are racing and I feel like my head is spinning. I’ve figured out a way to handle it most of the time… walk, talk to myself or others, focus on my breathe, have noise in the background and reach out for help.

If anyone is in need of some one to talk to, confide in or just say hey I’m not doing so good please reach out to me. I never want anyone to ever feel like their anxiety is a burden to others, especially to me.

Jenn

A lot of the time I’m totally content, absolutely LOVE and couldn’t ask for a better title than mom. But sometimes I think “Man….who am I?” I used to spend hours, probably an embarrassing amount of hours, watching tv. Relaxing. Literally not moving off of my couch for an entire day. Ok I would move but only to eat, use the bathroom or because my side had gone numb and I needed to rotate. Haha. I would sleep over 8 hours a night and would wake up “so exhausted” (can I go back and slap my pre-baby self, please?). I would come home at a decent hour from parties and refuse to stay the night places because oh my goodness, I can’t possibly function on less than 6 hours of sleep!

Sorry, I fell out of my chair laughing. Seriously though. Who was I kidding?! Exhaustion is recovering from delivering a tiny human, sleeping MAYBE 3 hours at a time, but more than likely less than that. Sometimes much less. Exhaustion is staying up all night because your baby has RSV and you’re terrified they will stop breathing if you aren’t watching them. Exhaustion is not remembering the last time you got 6 hours, much less 8, of sleep straight through the night. Exhaustion is feeding your baby, falling asleep in the chair, at 3 am watching George Lopez. I wish SO badly I could go back to my previous self and tell myself to shut up. You are not tired. You have NO idea what is waiting for you. But go ahead, complain about how tired you are. Skip out on things because you’re afraid of how you can’t function without sleep(you can. And you do it a lot. Because you don’t have the choice.)

But I also want to go back to that self. My pre-baby, pre-exhausted, selfish self. I would NOT trade Lily for anything. Please don’t misunderstand. But what I wouldn’t give to go back to that. Because even now, if I get a few hours without Lily(Thank God to the best mother and father ever for helping out so much) I spend the time away from her thinking about what I should be doing around the house. Or thinking about what she’s doing. If she’s having fun. If she needs a bottle. Did I remember to tell mom she has a diaper rash? They weren’t kidding when they said “being a parent is a 24/7 job”. Even at work you think about them. I’m even with her all day and think about her haha. When they nap you think about what you need to do while they are asleep. There is not an hour that goes by that she’s not on my mind.

Sometimes I think God got it wrong. I wasn’t cut out for this motherhood thing. Sure, I’m good with kids. But I’m also incredibly selfish. I love and thrive on “me time”. I NEED to have quiet to recharge. What was God thinking giving me a child? Am I cut out for this role? It was a case of mistaken identity, wasn’t it? I knew it! I feel like I’ll get to heaven one day(hopefully, haha) and God will be like “Jennifer, my apologies, I screwed up and gave you a child. You did alright, all things considered” hahaha.

I need to stress this….I love Lily with everything I have. And I can’t imagine going back to life before her. I just want some sleep, some peace and quiet and some me time. After all, isn’t that what we all want?

Jenn

In August of 2017 I thought I was pregnant. We weren’t really trying but we also weren’t preventing. When it turned out I wasn’t we were both disappointed which was a bit of a shock to us. We wanted kids, eventually. But we were of the mindset “if it happens, it happens. If not, okay.” so when it didn’t happen and we had a reaction it that we realized “hey, this is a bit eye opening…Let’s discuss this whole mom and dad thing a little further…” which led to about 5 months of trying.

Once again, on Thanksgiving day, I thought I was pregnant. I was so excited to announce to family on Thanksgiving day. How cool would that be?! But I wasn’t. My heart was breaking. In the grand scheme of things a couple months of trying really is not that long. And my heart breaks for those that struggle with fertility.

Christmas Eve morning I woke up and took a pregnancy test at about six in the morning. I knew it was really early to get a positive. But I thought, eh, I’ll see. I took the test and didn’t see two lines so I crawled back into bed a little disappointed but not giving up hope yet. I laid there remembering a post on a baby website about how if you test early sometimes you can adjust your camera filter to find the very faint second line. So I thought once again…eh…why not? So I grabbed the test, took a picture, altered the lighting and faintly saw two lines. TWO lines?! WHAT?! I’m pregnant!!! I ran into the bedroom where my husband was sleeping. I yelled “There’s two lines! TWO LINES!” and in his sleepy stupor he responded with “Two lines where? Where are we? What store are we at?” I seriously love him. Best response ever. He was excited once he woke up and registered what I actually meant.

Roll around to Christmas morning. After a final positive test, which was clearly positive at this point, we decided although early, we just had to announce while opening presents. So I wrapped a sleeper that said “I love my grandma and grandpa” and excitedly waited for what seemed like forever until we gave them the present. They were so excited for us. It was beautiful and one of my favorite memories.

Fast forward to August of 2018. I had a pretty much perfect pregnancy. I loved being pregnant. It was amazing. But by the time I was about 36 weeks I developed high blood pressure. I did okay for two weeks. I started having Braxton hicks, which I hate the term, but so be it. It was Saturday the 18 and I was absolutely sure she’d be coming soon. We went to the hospital on Sunday the 19. After a night of monitoring me they sent us home. I wasn’t progressing. So off we went, disappointed and exhausted.

I continued to have Braxton hicks pretty much the entire week. I was put on work restriction and basically made it my life mission to get this child out without medical intervention. But if I had not had her by Monday the 27 I would be induced. I didn’t want that. So off I went waddling through town, twice a day, trying to walk this baby out. Finally, Thursday evening I was having contractions. When I realized how close they were together we decided to once again head to the L&D. After some monitoring and checking, they determined I was finally in labor. woohoo!

By 10 AM on Friday the 24, I had an epidural going, I was at 10 cm and it was go time. I pushed for 2 hours. But nothing was happening. And with every contraction her heartrate dropped. I was faced with a choice: Either continue trying to push(at this point I was getting to the point that I could barely muster up the energy to push a decent push) and chance that it would become an emergency situation if we waited. Or we could go ahead with a c section. With her heart rate dropping and my energy as well, we decided to go ahead with the c section.

This next part is graphic. I will try to be as polite about it as possible. But fair warning…

The c section started out okay. It was uncomfortable at first but quickly became excruciating. I was passing in and out of consciousness while they were working to get her out. Jb was with me trying to keep me awake and alert for our baby girl’s arrival. By the time they got her out I was in so much pain I remember thinking “she’s so pretty but I can’t do this.” I begged them to be done. Once JB left with Lily and the nurse, I remember laying there sobbing. I was hurting so badly. I was completely put under. I awoke in the elevator heading into recovery. I felt fine. Everything was ok. Until it wasn’t. I was once again in and out of consciousness. When I would rally around there were nurses scrambling all over. Blood was everywhere. It was a terrifying site. One of the times I came to, I asked the nurse if I was dying. It was horrible. It turned out I had hemorrhaged twice. Once during the c section and then again in recovery. My blood pressure was bottoming out and my heart was racing. They were waking me up telling me to breathe and measuring the amount of blood I was losing. At this point I was alone and everyone thought I was still just recovering. After a couple of hours my family was made aware of my condition. I was stable but would remain in ICU for the next 24 hours. I didn’t hold my daughter until she was 7 hours old.

I spent the next 4 days in the hospital. Due to my husbands job, I was alone every night. I battled anxiety so crippling. I was fighting constant health battles it seemed like and all the while I was supposed to be bonding with this tiny human. In all of the commercials you see the mom give birth and see the baby and she’s instantly in love. I didn’t have that. I resented her for hurting me so badly. Why wasn’t I given the same opportunity to have her naturally? Why did my birth story go so horribly wrong? I spent a lot of time fighting with myself for those feelings. I wanted to love her but I was so scared of her. So scared of the pain I was in. So scared that I kept having these terrible health scares. It was not a good start to motherhood. I spent a lot of the first few days at home crying. Crying from pain. From the natural reaction of your hormones evening out. And crying because I had no idea what sleep deprivation was until I had a newborn.

The delivery and recovery was a nightmare. I can’t explain how terrifying it was to feel yourself dying, knowing that no one from your family knows how much danger you’re in. It was awful. And because of that I had to and still have to battle some negative thoughts and emotions.

I love my baby girl so much. And I thank God for her every day. That the complications that we had did not harm her. That I was the one in danger. She is the best thing that has happened to me and I fall in love with her more every single day. But man, it’s hard. If anyone out there has a similar birth story please let me know. I’d love to discuss it with you. If anyone at all is struggling with PPD, PTSD or PPA please reach out.

Jenn

I should start off by first stating a few facts about myself:

I became a new mom on August 24, 2018. So at this current time I have a 5 month old daughter who I love with all of my heart. But, this blog is going to take a deep look into some questions, sometimes dark, that from what I’ve gathered, a lot of new mom’s(and mom’s that have multiple kids) ask themselves.

I’m married and have a dog, a house, a car and a loving family. But I was no match for Post Partum Anxiety and PTSD from my delivery.

In this blog I want to help people who have also struggled with PPA(post partum anxiety), PTSD(post traumatic stress disorder) and PPD(post partum depression). But I also want to bring awareness to it. I also want to make you laugh. Basically, in 5 years I want to look back and read this and be proud of myself for taking a step towards a goal of mine. To help others.

So welcome to my life. A little bit crazy, a few laughs and a whole lotta love.

Jenn

Thanks for joining me!

Good company in a journey makes the way seem shorter. — Izaak Walton