I am recently postpartum. I have a nearly 6 month old son and it’s a very strange, confusing, “who have I become” kind of thing. I, too, find myself reacting to things in a way that I never thought I would before. The words “I have a baby” come out of my mouth all the time now as if to say “yes, this is important, but I have a baby…do you have any idea how BIG this is?”. I worry about driving him in the car, about keeping him safe at home. I worry about him sleeping at night and napping at the babysitter’s. I worry about everything because all of the sudden, my focus in life has shifted to something other than myself. Like, for the first time in 30 years.
I, too, lament his teeny clothes as I put them away for the “next one”. I finally allowed my husband to take down the “it’s a boy” sign. We rearranged his nursery to accommodate a guest bed and I actually felt bad to change something that had been just so since he was born. I can’t throw away that terrible toothpaste they gave me at the hospital when he was born. I agonize each time he goes up a size in diapers.
I was sad to read the article referring to newborns as a narcotic because I felt that while I was on maternity leave I didn’t enjoy my baby like I was supposed to. I want a do-over. It was super hard for me. I had a pretty good pregnancy (although I was deemed high risk simply because I’m a bigger gal). I had a doula, I prepped for childbirth by reading tons of books. I was totally stoked. But, 19 hours of labor ended in a C-Section due to “failure to progress”. Pretty much the worst sounding, I’m a huge failure kind of diagnosis. I was devastated to have a C-Section because I felt I had been totally robbed of my womanly right to birth a child. I still feel that way and most people think that’s crazy. But, that’s how I felt..I was very sad and depressed that I didn’t get to deliver like a normal person. I didn’t get to have that experience of a slimy baby on my belly and looking happy as I see him for the first time. I saw him above a sheet in the OR as I was drifting in and out due to the insane meds. I held him for the first time 3 hours later. It breaks my heart to think about him without his mom those first 3 hours and felt for a long time that we missed out on some major bonding thing that would’ve made me feel closer to him during those first few weeks.
But, those first few weeks I didn’t feel very close to my baby. I didn’t know him. He seemed to cry all the time and my holding him did nothing to help. I did not feel that instant love that your MIL referred to. I knew he was mine and that he was special, but I just didn’t know him yet.
He lost a good deal of weight because the C-Section made my milk take FOREVER to come in. When it finally did, I was already supplementing with formula. I felt horrible and guilty that I couldn’t give birth normally and I couldn’t produce enough milk to feed my child. So, desperate to have something to connect me with my son, I kept breastfeeding and supplementing with formula even though I had passed the point where breastfeeding seemed impossible. We got it down, finally, in our own way. I still don’t make enough milk (F-U le leche league who says women make enough milk for their babies…jerks!) and he’s getting about 1/3 of his food via formula, but I’m finally over it. I did what I could, as did you. There is an unfair emphasis on breastfeeding as the only option for your baby that makes mothers feel terrible when they aren’t able to or aren’t willing to put their child through hungry hell!
So, anyway…here we are nearly 6 months later and I do feel that love that maybe some people feel instantly but came to me more gradually. But, I find it hard to look back to those early weeks (or first two months, really) and feel good about my performance as a mom. I think I latch on to these little things, 0-3 onesies, the it’s a boy sign, because I wish I could do it over and do it better…without being a crying, depressed mess. Granted, I’m still a crying, depressed mess, but I know my boy now and I love him and I know he loves his mommy, despite the fact that I couldn’t squeeze him out downstairs.
I guess my point is that I hear you, I’m doing it, too, and know how you’re feeling. It’s very hard going from pre-mom jeni to currently mom jeni. It’s a fast transformation and I still don’t fully understand who I am as a mother. I’m assuming it’ll work at the way it needs to.
