Reflections on birth

I saw a blog post recently about a new mommy in the hospital.  How she felt.  How she cherished and loved this little baby she just suffered to bring into the world.  "Take a picture in the hospital when it's just you and baby, so you can remember how much joy you felt."  Well, that would have been great, except I didn't feel that.

I tried to remember what happened after Dawson was born.  What those first few days were like.  I'm drawing a big fat blank.  All I can remember is the despair I felt, I don't remember specific events well, if at all.  I had done what I never thought I could do- I brought a beautiful baby into the world.  But all I felt was sad.  I wasn't pregnant anymore.  I couldn't feel him kick me anymore.  My fantasy was shattered, this is not how I pictured it.

He was born at 6:46PM on a Saturday night and by the time my parents, sister, and in laws left the hospital it must have been late.  I can't remember, I have no recollection of time.  I attempted to feed Dawson every 3 hours but he was very very hard to rouse.  Joe went to sleep at some point, and I sat and held Dawson for the next 3 hours until his next feeding.  Shell shocked.  In pain, emotionally and physically.   I can't describe any of that first night, or even the next day that I felt any different than that.   I don't remember when people started showing up the next day.  In fact, all I remember about the next day was the nurse wanting me to walk down the hall, and I was so upset because I could barely walk to the bathroom that was literally only feet from my bed.  Joe was doing everything for Dawson, except feeding him, which I seemed to be failing at because he just plain didn't want to wake up for me.  I watched Joe and him bond and I felt this incredible joy for my husband, and sadness for myself.  Why was it coming so easy to him? Why did I feel nothing at all for this baby?

My point in all of this is I think as a first time mother, I had this fantasy that I would want to clutch that baby to me so tight and never put him down, and I didn't feel that.  Dawson and I did not bond right away.  It left me with a huge amount of guilt riding on my shoulders.  It only got worse as I went home and it took literally months for me to bond to him.  I still did everything I needed to do for him, of course, but I just went through the motions.  He was nothing more than a crying mouth to feed and a diaper to change for a few months.  I wish that someone had told me before he came that it's not always instantaneous to feel that intense connection to your baby. It's not always the puppies and rainbows you built up in your head.  All of this certainly didn't cause my postpartum depression, but it contributed heaps and loads to it.  And when I look back, I even want to say it had already begun.

I'm a little scared that this will happen to me again.  That I won't bond with this baby right away, and I will feel disappointed.  Even worse, I'm afraid I won't remember anything again.  I know certain things will be easier this time, but I do have fear that the days after this baby's birth will be the same as Dawson's.  I'm trying to put some actions into place, and seek the support (professional and otherwise) to prevent it, but if there's anything having your first baby can teach you, it's that you can't plan for everything.  You just prepare for the worst, and hope for the best.

Knowing you are done, before you are there

After how rough this pregnancy has been with the hyperemesis gravidarum, Joe and I have decided we will not have any more children.  This was not a hard decision, with the events of the last 3+ months.   We knew we wanted at least 2 children before I got pregnant this time, but we were undecided on whether we would have 3.   The stress on our family has been enormous.

I have decided that I cannot be pregnant again.  My pregnancy with Dawson was not easy. I did have some issues, including some nausea and vomiting but I feel now that it was very easy in comparison.  I can honestly (and with a lot of guilt) say that I haven't enjoyed being pregnant this time.  I have been so sick, I live in fear of being sick all the time.  I miss beer and wine and forbidden foods.  I miss not worrying about my fluid intake.  I know logically that it's all for this baby, that I very much want, but I still feel resentful at times.  That's hard to admit.  It's also hard to admit that even with that beautiful prize at the end, I am not willing to go through this again, no matter what.   

I am okay with this decision.. most days.  Other days (especially if I am having a vomit free day) I feel a pang of sadness when I see other moms with more than 2.  In that moment it hits me- this is it.  Those parts of pregnancy I do enjoy (hello, basketball belly and baby kicks!) are here now and I keep thinking "this is going to be over too fast, and I will never get to experience these things again" and it brings an overwhelming sadness.  

I know that the decision to be done is what's right for me and my family but knowing we are done before we truly are, is so hard to swallow.   I can only pray that when this baby is finally here, I will feel more than 95 percent at peace with the decision.  

It's okay for parenthood to be hard

I had a friend recently post something about feeling sorry for people that think taking care of their kids is hard.  I immediately felt a pang of mom guilt.  I do think taking care of Dawson is hard.

I started to think about it and I wondered why that's not okay? Why would someone feel sorry for me? There are a lot of moments that I don't like parenthood.  There, I said it.  It doesn't make me love Dawson ANY less.  

I also think you can't judge another mother until you walk in their shoes. Every kid is different.  For example- Was giving up the bottle hard for us? Nope, quite easy.  That doesn't mean I should think less of a mom that struggles to take the bottle (or boob) away from their little one.  There are so many different factors about parenting that I don't think you can lump everyone into any one category. Some kids take things easily, some don't.  Same for us moms.  

Everyone has different struggles as a parent.  Some people deal with it with grace and a smile on their face and that's great.  I deal with it with tears sometimes and frustration.. and a call to my mom to shout "He won't go to sleep! I think he is trying to kill me!" Kidding.. but not really. 

So just because it's not easy for me, doesn't mean you need to feel sorry for me.  My life isn't miserable, it's just hard sometimes.  I wish as moms (and just as people, hello?!) that we could see that  it's not always black and white.  

Post-partum Depression

I have been doing some reflecting on the last few years.  Putting Dawson into a big boy room made me realize today that I won't ever rock him in his rocking chair again.  It brought tears to my eyes.  The funny thing is not long ago rocking him in that chair brought me to tears also, but they were tears of misery.

I first knew something was wrong in the hospital after Dawson was born.  Now that I can look back, I think I was in shock.  I have told my therapist that when he was born I felt like I had lost him.  This baby I sat looking at was beautiful, but I couldn't identify him as the baby I was carrying for 9 months.  He was a stranger to me.  I was numb.  

I went on living and feeling this way until Dawson was 4 months old, when I knew deep down that something was very wrong.  I wanted to run away.  I kept thinking I had made a huge mistake and that having children was not for me.  I kept it to myself because I felt extreme guilt over these feelings.

  I called my OBGYN just after Dawson turned 4 months old and the nurse treated me like I was making a mountain out of a molehill. I never actually spoke to the doctor, but I was prescribed 50mg of zoloft per day and told to follow up in 2months.  I took the medication for the 2 months. At this point between everything that happened during my pregnancy with my OB, my lack of medical insurance, and my guilt, and the fact that the medication was doing nothing, I decided not to follow up.  I did go to therapy once every 2 weeks for a while though. 

I slipped further and further after this.  Every day was like that movie Groundhog's Day.  I didn't want to be left alone at all.  By Dawson's first Christmas I was crying almost daily, wanting to sleep all the time and yet dealing with extreme insomnia and panic attacks.  I was just going through the motions of day to day life.

Just after Christmas Joe told me he thought there was something wrong, that I wasn't myself.  This was all it took for the walls to come down and I melted.  I was just a shell of who I once was and I knew it.  I agreed to go see a new doctor and try again to get rid of this ugly beast.  I felt like it was too late, no one was going to believe this was post partum depression when Dawson was already a year old.  

I met a wonderful doctor in February and she gave me medication for my panic attacks, my insomnia, and an antidepressant.  It was trial and error.  I tried many medications with little to no success.  The only medication that worked at all had such horrible side effects that I didn't want to live that way any more than I wanted to live my life with post partum depression and anxiety.  

I read a lot of books, but sadly there are not many about post partum depression.  Sleepless Days by Susan Kushner Resnick helped me the most.  I wasn't the only person who felt like this and there was
hope! I highly recommend it if you think you might have post partum depression.

We bought a house last year and moved in almost a year ago exactly.  At that point my doctor told me she couldn't help me and that I needed to see a psychiatrist.  I was really scared to tell someone else my story, but seeing a psychiatrist was the best thing that happened.  I was again put on some different medication for my anxiety and depression.

Getting better didn't happen over night.  It took several months to adjust to the medication and to get a good relationship with a new therapist.  I was now in the hands of people that deal with women in my position all the time.  

I can proudly say that as of June of this year I am off my anti anxiety medication, I sleep through the night on my own without medication and I can't imagine my life without Dawson in it.  I still feel some guilt about how much I feel like I missed the first 2 years but I know that wasn't me.  I was sick.  I still take my antidepressant and I have no plans to give it up.

I will never be who I was before I had Dawson.  I used to think that was a bad thing.  Now I see that it is just different, not bad.  I wouldn't be the mom I am today if I hadn't gone through the hell that is post partum depression.  

He is my life.  There's no better reminder than when I whisper "I love you booboo" and I get back "I lub loo too, mommy."