Remember when I said I was tired of feeling gross? Yeah. About that.
I went into labor with H around four o’clock in the afternoon on May 20th. The contractions got bad around six, and I asked my sister to text my husband to make sure he was on his way home. At 8:30 my water broke, and by 2:43 am he was born. It was mind-blowingly painful, and I felt every minute because I chose to go unmedicated.
However, after the initial trauma of labor and delivery, my physical recovery was pretty uneventful. I was sore, but as time passed I continued to feel better each day, not worse. With G, it was almost the opposite. While her labor was an excruciating 30 hours, by the time I got to the hospital at 1 pm, I had decided to get an epidural and she was born by 3:53.
Side note: Do whatever you want, but having had both experiences I vote for the drugs. It was blissful.
As soon as she arrived, I felt great. I had always hear stories about women who left the labor and delivery unit glowing and spritely and assumed they were full of shit.
But I really did feel amazing. My energy and spirits were high and physically I felt amazing. But since my kids are total opposites, it was not to last. While every day with H I got physically better, each day with G presented a new physical challenge. Retained product, cracked nipples, thrush, and then, hitting me like a ton of bricks, mastitis.
I was sitting at H’s swim lessons, G asleep in her stroller, when a wave of heat and lightedness washed over me. My eyes felt droopy, my head started to throb, and pain and redness in my left breast that resonated up to my armpit. I got us as home and got H down for his nap before I called the nurse line. “Yeah, that sure sounds like mastitis,” she replied, after I described my symptoms. Again the dark tunnel. Again the medications. Again the feeling absolutely gross.
What worked for me…call in all the favors.
Take the word “favors” how you will. Something that feels like a favor to me, is likely going to be a logical request, or even an expectation, to someone else. As much as I’d like to have an IDGAF attitude, I am laden with mom guilt. Asking for help is extremely difficult for me. If I’m just uncomfortable or fatigued – not literally dying – I’m reluctant to asking anyone for anything, even if they are willing and it’s completely reasonable. I’m sure this is a common thread amongst mothers, and I know it’s a characteristic trait in my family.
When I told my mom I had mastitis she sympathized, “Yup, I’ve been there. It sucks.” When I told her I had called to get a prescription for antibiotics, she revealed the depths of her own reluctance to ask for help, “That’s good. I just used warm compresses and nursed more on the affected side until it went away.”
I don’t know why it surprised me. She is the queen of taking on too much and minimizing her own pain. I thought for a minute that she might be bragging, patronizingly questioning my own decision to get medication – a concern I also had when I decided to get an epidural. But it both cases, my concerns were unfounded. Though my mom is still tough as nails, she has realized that not everyone needs to show their strength like she does. Sometimes it takes more strength to say, “I’m struggling, please help me.”
So that’s why in my mind, many things are favors, but favors I’m willing to ask for. Ask your partner or a support person to come home from work early. Take a sick day yourself. Sit your ass on the couch and build yourself a nest of snacks and water and pillows, and never get up. Take a warm shower (the solution for everything, I’ve found). Be kind to yourself and your body and indulge in whatever makes you feel comfortable and not gross.
Pro-Tip: When talking to your healthcare provider consider two things: 1) You may not even have to go into the doctor’s office. Many providers will prescribe antibiotics over the phone for something as common as mastitis. This saves you time, since you’ll only need to make one trip out to the pharmacy. 2) Ask for an antibiotic that you only have to take twice a day (rather than three or four), and make sure you can eat any time you want. The first antibiotic I was prescribed was four times a day, with no food two hours before and one hour after. I don’t know about you, but I never go three hours without eating, especially while breastfeeding. It was a nightmare trying to time everything just right and I ended up hangry and frustrated until I called back and switched antibiotics.
Ultimately, it only took about 24 hours to feel some relief. In the meantime, I did what my mom had always taught me: treat your symptoms. I took ibuprofen for the physical pain and chocolate for the emotional pain. Mastitis has actually been one of the least complicated issues I’ve dealt with during this pregnancy, but the burden of having yet another thing to deal with is a good reminder of how cumulative all of this is. It’s not just about that one issue you’re struggling with today, it’s about all the issues you’ve dealt with up to that point. Acknowledging all of those struggles is a great way to remind yourself that you’re not weak for asking for help, or for feeling run down, or for wanting to quit completely. You’re probably dealing with a lot more than most people – myself included – so call in those favors and give yourself a break.
TL;DR – Just tell me how to fix it!
- Call the doctor and get easy antibiotics that won’t prevent you from eating.
- Ask your support people to relieve you from child care as much as possible.
- Use ibuprofen and warm compresses or showers to relieve pain until the antibiotics kick in.
- Keep nursing.
- You’re a badass! Keep it up!
