Every day as I look at my daughter growing up before my very eyes, I fight hard not to lose the memories of how it was back then. Three years ago my baby was born, and my life changed forever. I struggle with memories of her being so small. I want to remember those times, good and bad, because before I know it she will be a teenager. I try my best to capture our lives through this blog, my daughter's Shutterfly page, my new Project Life book and pictures. (My family will tell you that I love to send pictures.) Being a mother has been a blessing, and I want to be able to tell her all about how she was when she was a little girl.
In my quest to remember, I have come across a not so good time in my life during her first two months on this Earth. I remember feeling lost and trapped in my own home. I had a hard time for a few reasons, 1) I am not a night person, but breastfeeding a new baby doesn't allow you the freedom to "select your own schedule"…she's hungry…she eats, and 2) I have a type A personality that prohibits me from "going with the flow". During this time no sleep and going with the flow are normal…see why I was having a hard time. So in this segment of
Someone Should've Told Me here at
My Life As I would like to discuss the Baby Blues.
I don't believe I was severely depressed, but I was certainly overwhelmed. I was determined to breast feed my daughter, especially since my milk is FREE. (I can't help being frugal.) I was also determined to sleep, eat, bathe, and clean up every once in a while. I was determined to keep track of her every move and every drop of milk she drank. I was determined and that determination nearly drove me crazy.
Now up until the point of labor, I was in control. I had washed all of her soon-to-be clothes (per the baby book). I had sterilized all of her bottles, and prepared her bed (which she didn't sleep in until well past 6 months). I made her diaper bag, and organized my hospital bag. I had read all of the right books, taken all of the classes offered by the hospital, and had a beautifully written Birth Plan that I fully intended to follow. I found the perfect pediatrician, and ear-marked a few dentists. (Yes I knew she wouldn't be born with teeth!) I was ready. Then came LABOR. I was good with the labor until my water broke. Then the contractions seemed to be very, very bad as compared to the beginning of labor. I got to the hospital and was hooked up to the machine for monitoring, but that was around 1 o'clock in the morning. (Keep in mind I had been at work all day…been up since 6 am…my patience and pain tolerance was wearing thin.) A special note is required here because I failed to mention earlier that my beautifully written Birth Plan specifically stated that I wanted nothing to do with an epidural. NO MEDS FOR ME! Ole natural is what I wanted! So at 3 o'clock in the morning, with tears of disappointment in my eyes, I reluctantly requested an epidural…AND IT WAS THE BEST DECISION I MADE THAT DAY! I was so exhausted, and I couldn't remember any breathing techniques. The ones I did remember weren't working. The pain was driving me crazy, and that was the first time in the entire nine months that I felt out of control. I had no control over this God-made baby girl. I had no control over His timing, but I tell you what, I thank Him for timing because after that epidural I slept for the next five hours straight. The next thing I remember is the doctor coming and saying I should push now. That was the best, and the last good sleep I have had in three years!
For the next two months I was blessed to have my mother practically live with us to help me through the very difficult transition into my NEW life. What I didn't expect was to feel so down all of the time. I was very emotional and unsure of everything. The only thing I knew I could do for sure was hug and love that little girl.
So after my two months was over the day came for my mother to leave, and the night before I remember being in a closet, sitting on the floor next to my mom, on the phone with my Grandma, and crying hysterically saying, "I can't do this. My mom can't leave me." Someone should've told me that I would have to learn that it is OK to cry…a lot…often…and that doesn't make you weak, but it makes you NORMAL.
A small amount of the Baby Blues is expected after having a baby, and I surely had my fair share. I would always caution those who are caring for the new mom to consider depression. Talk to your doctor about the signs of depression, but also be aware that Baby Blues are normal and what the mom really needs is support.
During those first few months I did cry often, and it was my way of letting go. I felt stronger when I got it all out. My grandma would always tell me it was ok to cry. Thanks Grandma.
Leave a comment. Did you experience the Baby Blues?