5-month Postpartum Truths

 

Wow, I haven't written a post like this since I was 6-weeks postpartum! I guess I haven't had time. I also haven't had the head-space to organize my thoughts. I have so many postpartum thoughts these days and this post hardly brushes the surface. Shew-whee, where to begin...

5 months ago I gave birth. I have since forgotten the pain, but there is still trauma. I have to admit though, I am more traumatized by being pregnant than giving birth. The birth came and went in 30 meager hours, done. Pregnancy however, seemed like it lasted half of my life! Thank.goodness.that.is.over!! Despite not being pregnant anymore, I am still horrified by the experience. That just goes to show how sick and uncomfortable I was. I am not a fan of surrendering my body to nine months of uncontrollable reactions and growth.

On to somewhat more pleasant things. Hazel, is a doll. No literally she looks like a doll. It's a good thing she is cute, because she definitely tried our patience those first three months. It is one thing to have a new baby and adjust to a different way of life. It's another story altogether to have a baby with colic...or whatever it is that makes them so cranky all the time. Hazel cried nonstop for the first three months. I often found myself crying along with her because I didn't know what else to do. We were/are regulars at the pediatrician's office, everyone knows us by name now because we were there (no-kidding) every other day for the first month, then twice a week after that. Only at month-three did we finally start tapering the visits to every other week. Most of Hazel's problems had to do with "colic", low weight gain, and breastfeeding, but I'll write another post about that later.

With Andy out of town for work most weeks and Hazel's nonstop crying, I was worn pretty ragged those first few months. I survived on showers at 2am, 1-minute breaks sitting on the back porch with the sun in my face, long cries into my coffee, granola bars, and netflix. I tell you, single/solo parenting is HARD. I don't wish it on anyone. If you know a single mom, or one whose husband works long hours (or out of town), help a mama out! I don't mean ask if she wants help, just show up and help. (I'm not gonna lie, I could have used a lot more help...I was just too proud to ask for it.)

So now that we are past the I-have-no-idea-what-I'm-doing-and-my-baby-won't-stop-crying phase, things finally feel good. Hazel is a completely different baby than she was those first few months. She laughs and smiles and we like each other. We are starting to get into some sort of routine and my anxiety about getting out of the house is almost all gone. Life is still challenging and I am often frustrated with my loss of independence (especially when Andy is not around to give me a break), but all in all I feel better about being a mom. It is crazy how much a little human can change your life. I love my child, but I truly don't understand how people can do this over and over again with multiple children. Mad respect to them! One-and-done will be my story. :)

6-week Postpartum Truths

Photo by Robin Skievaski Photography

Well here I am, 6-weeks after giving birth to our little Hazel. I have had a lot of half written posts in my head, but they have never made it to the computer. This was partially because taking care of a newborn has consumed all of my time, and partially because I had so much to say that I didn't know how to properly organize it. I still don't know how to organize it, but the time has come to try.

I've read a lot of baby blogs, thus a lot of birth stories. I always figured I would follow suit and post my birth story after it happened. Before giving birth, I was really excited to go into labor, experience giving birth, and then tell everyone my magical story. Then it happened. And let me tell you, there was NOTHING magical about it. In fact, it was the most traumatizing event that I have ever experienced. So traumatizing that I don't want to tell my birth story. You might be wondering, wow something serious must have happened. The truth is that nothing serious happened, it was a very average birth. I was just a huge wimp, I lost control, I freaked out, in the end I was extremely traumatized, end of story.

I don't understand how everyone can say that pregnancy is magical, giving birth is magical, newborns are magical...yata yata. Maybe it truly is magical for some people, but not for me. I would be more inclined to use the adjectives uncomfortable, painful, isolating. Before getting pregnant, I was under the illusion that everything involved with having a baby would be beautiful. I was so wrong. I hate to be a downer, but I have not enjoyed any of the process of getting pregnant and having a baby. (Except for feeling her kicks when she was inside me, and feeling like a mother goddess for a total of about one week when I was pregnant.) Overall, it has been hard and isolating.

Maybe I wasn't ready for a baby, maybe I don't do as well with change as I thought I did. Whatever it is, I have struggled. Yes, I wanted to experience pregnancy, I wanted to feel my body grow with life inside it, and then use my incredible body to push that new life out into the world. I did it, I experienced it, and now my life has changed forever. I now have to deal with the challenges of someone else needing me 24 hours a day, loss of independence, loss of body perkiness, loss of social life...I gave all of those up and I am struggling. Yes, I gained a beautiful and healthy daughter, but I have yet to truly appreciate her. So far, she is like a needy pet. She eats, sleeps, poops, and cries. That is my life now. I am trying hard to find joy in the little things, but some days this life change is just all too overwhelming. Thus the journey to motherhood begins!

(Don't get me wrong, this is not postpartum depression, I am just processing the whirlwind that this is. My spirits are upbeat, I am just dealing with change and trying to speak my truth. :)