Liana’s Birth Story

Liana’s birth was the scariest day of my life. But before we go there, let’s flash back.

If you read the last birth story about my daughter Kaylee you’d see how she was planned. Now, Liana was not. In the least bit. She came at an awful time actually. It was during a hard time in my marriage. We were trying to figure out the next steps for us. We were thinking of the divorce steps more and more and at the same time I’m growing more and more pregnant with this little baby. It was a hard experience trying to decide what’s best. I remember thinking I wouldn’t be able to do it and not even sure that I was going to go through with my pregnancy. (Which was a shock to me because I am pro-life, and I wouldn’t be able to go through with that personally when time came to it.) But I looked into options and to even have those thoughts try to take over my beliefs was a scary part for me. Once I look further into it, I was reassured it wasn’t for me. I knew this baby deserves to be here, and that I would have to figure out a way to make it happen. I had to work with what I can as I got farther along. My support systems had been split on thinking I could do it alone; already having two kids and my schedule the way it was.

It was a rough pregnancy just like the others nausea-wise. I was also exhausted and achy with her always, they never lightened up. The scary part came after though. If you read my previous post earlier this week you would know that my grandfather had just passed, and the next part happened maybe two days later. I was crying and overly stressed with everything. Little did I know, it was time.

*Some TMI stuff ahead so don’t read if don’t wanna know the messy.

After a stressful pregnancy with the marriage issues (and stressful death just happening), I woke up at 6 am feeling like I had just peed. I got my phone flashlight to check it out just to see. Now, I will never forget the feeling I had when I did. The god awful feeling of my stomach sinking to my butt, feeling like someone pulled out my insides while I watched. I was filled instantly sick with fear, with anxiety. I almost puked; because when I looked down, I saw blood. I got up as quietly as I could because the other two kids were sleeping. Shaking, I got downstairs without freaking out (until I got down there.) My husband had just left for work an hour before on top of it, so I’m alone panicking in my house. By the time I got to the bathroom, I had two large clots come out of me! Probably close to the size of a tennis ball, or my iPhone 4. It was the scariest thing because here I am thinking A.) Why are these big pieces falling out of me?! And B.) Bleeding bright red blood in pregnancy is never good. Let alone how much I was bleeding. I called my sister because she was right down the road and asked her to sit with the kids so I can go to the hospital. I had only just hit 36 weeks pregnant. That alone was nerve wrecking thinking this is happening early. All I could think about honestly was I just lost my baby, I don’t feel her, I’m bleeding, and this is wrong. So when I got to the hospital, they checked on ultrasound to see if my placenta was in the way maybe causing pieces to fall out. They said if it’s in the way I’ll need a C-section –which was scary to hear on top of it –but weirdly it was not. I don’t even know what was coming out. They told me I was in labor, and thankfully the baby was still alive, still doing OK, but I was going to have to deliver her. After 12 long, scary hours of labor, it was finally time to push.

Liana Brielle was born April 2nd at 5:41 pm weighing 6 lbs 5 ounces even being early. She was going to be big like her sister for my little ol’ self if we went to 40 weeks. Still as happy as I was to have her out, soon as she came they told me she wasn’t breathing good, and they took her to the nicu before I could even spend time with her.

They also told me I was still bleeding, and they had to give me two shots to try to stop it. I was hemmoragging, and I was going to need a blood transfusion soon I lost so much. I just kept thinking how I was dying over here, and I don’t know how my baby is either.. I’m okay obviously 😉

Over the next few days, I would have to visit her in the nicu, and she was hooked up to all sorts of things. It broke my heart each time I saw her even though I know it was helping her. Just not being able to hold her or touch your newborn baby is the worst. You’re extra emotional with your crazy hormones, so it was like the icing on the sad cake. The hardest thing is leaving the hospital without your baby. I cried from the moment seeing her that day until I got home… and on and off each time I had to go back. They told me to stay home and rest because of everything, but nothing was going to keep me away from seeing her. I didn’t want to miss those first moments I would get to finally hold her or feed her.

I still don’t know to this day why I was bleeding and clotting. My doctors say it wasn’t something that typically happens unless somethings wrong with the placenta, and that’s all I got explained. It’s a mystery to me, but I think stress and sadness induced me. Even if they say that they don’t think stress caused labor all they want, I feel it.

Having her now of corse she’s perfect. Looking back thinking about how I felt in the beginning I just can’t imagine not having her in my life. Part of me is sad because, from what happened I don’t think I can ever have more kids. I mean if I could I just wouldn’t since I’m mostly traumatized from giving birth again. But for now, as she just turned one this weekend, Im left with how fast it goes. I’m just trying to enjoy it all. Together.

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Grandpa

It has been one year. Already. I’ve never had anyone close to me die before then. I’ve been “lucky” I guess in that way. I’ve lost people but if they passed I wasn’t really old enough and understanding of it all, I should say. But, it happened as it is bound to in life. It was one of the saddest days, naturally.

I was at my doctor appointment for my 36-week checkup. I was pregnant with Liana. I got a phone call as I was leaving the office. Perfect timing actually, because the branch I was at, was basically attached to the hospital. My mom called to let me know they were taking grandpa from the  Convalescent home he had been staying at to the ER. ( He had a rough point up to then. Without going into everything that he was struggling with and declining in, just know he had Dementia too) While he was there he got worse. It’s sad and hard to see anyone go through that, and of corse more so someone you care about. Family.

So, at the hospital that day, I met my mom and grandmother to see what was going on. Things apparently had gotten worse, and they told us they didn’t know if he’d make it through the night. The rest of the family had come down to wait it out. He passed in the hospital, and we all got to go in and be around him.

It’s always hard dealing with death. I still don’t get it. It still doesn’t phase me sometimes. I can’t believe you just don’t get to see someone anymore. Ever. It’s just crazy. It’s also a whole other thing when someone has passed right in front of you, and you can see them just being there. But Gone. You have that last image of them like that, forever. Without much detail of all that, just know I was upset and stressed. While being in the last month of my pregnancy (go figure) so it was rough all around.(I honestly believe no matter what I’m told that it aided in my going into labor which will be in the next blog post but, that’s just me.)

You obviously have pictures and memories to help get you through. But time doesn’t care – it’s going to keep moving forward. So you hold onto the good and special things, and the person will always live through you. One of the things that’s cool is that we share a birthday. I know even though he’s gone, but I still get to share that with him, so it’s great.

This post could be so long if I went into everything. What he was like, what he’s done..and all of the memories. But I’ll leave it at:

~ Rest in peace gramps, we love you and miss you.  ❤ ~

My little medicines.

I often say to my children while they’re not feeling well, “I’m sorry you’re sick if I could take it from you and give it to Mommy so you’re better, I would.”

It seems in this house we catch everything. We’re just friggin’ sponges to the colds and yuckies out there. My son had walking pneumonia back before December, maybe even around Thanksgiving and he was miserable. He would be upset so much, and I would say it to him daily. I know he knew I tried all I could, and I did take care of him, and I’d do anything. But when they’re sick they just don’t want to hear it unless you’re waving your wand and it’s happening then. I can’t blame them I’m the same damn way. I’m stubborn and if you aren’t easing my pain whatever you say is going in and right back out my ears.

Fast forward to last week. I had painful coughing fits constantly. I felt short of breath, and it hurt so bad in my ribs. Just a run down achy feeling for around five days before I went to the walk in. I seriously avoid going to any doctor always, so going should say something. My anxiety overpowers me, but I finally pushed and got there..with company. The doctor told me I just had bronchospasm and acute bronchitis and ordered me an inhaler and some cough medicine. Well, a low-grade fever and some more of the nonstop coughing brought me back four more days later. They ordered an X-ray and some new meds and told me no pneumonia was found but if I still felt like I couldn’t breathe to go to the ER. I tried to go to the store that night, and I was starting to pass out in there. I couldn’t breathe any better even though it had been a few hours but I knew my mind wouldn’t be at ease without another check. 7 long hours, an ekg, and another X-ray at the ER later, they finally told me they saw pneumonia. The doctor there also didn’t even catch it; the radiologist did.

I have a point and connection to the beginning of this story below I promise.

When I got home, I was still so sick that I couldn’t sleep or stop coughing. They say rest but mom to three never really can even with help, not fully. My son came over to my bed the next night. He said, “Mommy, it worked what you said.” I was so out of it I didn’t know what he meant and barely got out a “huh?” He said, “you know, you took my pain when I was sick like you said. I got better and you have my pneumonia now because you took it from me then because you love me, and it went to you for you to take all my pain.” I explained, in reality, it’s not that easy, where I can somehow take their pain, so they never feel anything but great. I also don’t want them to feel bad thinking moms always sick because of us, but it was the cutest thing for him to put together and say. I mean I would if I could take every sniffle, cold, belly ache, pain or sickness I could for them, which is why I say it, but it’s just wishful mom thinking.

Now I still feel awful, and I am in so much pain that I can barely take care of them, and do the things I need to do. I was starting to get depressed also just thinking how much isn’t going right. But when I have moments like that or remind myself to think of the kids being sweet, they help take my pain. They help me not be so down and try to figure out how to get through it in return. I think they’re better at what I try to do myself. That’s what it’s all about. Family love is a form of medicine.

Stigma Fighters

I recently submitted my story to Stigma Fighters which, was not easy for me. For those who aren’t aware, they are a group helping break mental health stigmas. I am not really even that close with my own family, or friends I do have. At least not to the point of sharing personal information. I’m just not that open I guess. Wether it be past or things that play into the present, I just don’t like being judged. (Says the girl who started blogging).

It’s all about growing and overcoming how I was and I would like to share my featured page on Stigma Fighters. You should like and support them on Facebook as well 😉 http://stigmafighters.com/stigma-fighters-kelly-pestritto/