It’s mine, no one else’s. I’m the one living with it every day, alone. I never experienced this after having my first little human so this was all new to me. My newest little human was early, I had preeclampsia so they induced at 37 weeks. I had the worst, most traumatic, ever lasting birth. I seriously thought I was gonna die (I will explain this all in another blog). Perfection when I saw this little bundle, there were no issues, completely healthy and all mine.
We went home and 2 days later the bilirubin results jumped to 19 and my stress sky rocketed and I felt like a failure. I cried and cried and yelled at every god and higher being I could think of. I needed a reason why my little human was having to go through this.
My oldest little human went to spend a few days with his mamaw and papas so I could focus on little one and that made me feel even worse that I couldn’t keep them both home with me, that feeling when your child is leaving because your to stressed to focus on both children is world shattering. I was so embarrassed, I felt judged and worthless. I was not good enough to be a mom of two, because I was needing help. Sadly no one told me it was okay to ask for outside help, so I was left to feel all this pain, feeling like I failed both my little humans in that moment (it still sits inside my broken heart to this day).
They sent the light blanket and bed to my house (It came so quick and it looked like a baby tanning bed), and I lived on the floor in my living room for one of the worst weeks of my life. I could not hold,snuggle or rock my 3 day old baby to sleep for entire week. This stupid machine had to sit on the damn floor the entire time, it felt like my child was in a dog cage and someone else held the key to their freedom.
The first 48 hours felt like my little one was going be stuck in that bed forever and I’d never be able to hold and love on this little human just because I wanted too. I could only take the lights off for a bum change, the blanket had to stay on for all feedings though. I was not sleeping, just staring at this little human who could only be in a diaper ( I have no idea how they aren’t cold in that damn bed and blanket) which made me feel worse. I laid on that floor next to that machine, just so I could watch the movement of breathing, so I new that this little human was okay stuck in that machine.
Every day meant a foot poke at the hospital, then back home in the machine and waiting for the numbers to go down. Those poor feet were poked 11 times, where I had to just watch and listen to screams of pain and feeling helpless (wanting to punch every nurse for doing their job but still causing my baby pain) the entire time.
I felt like I was neglecting my oldest, because I was so consumed with making sure everything was going okay with the littlest human and I hate myself for giving my oldest any less love or attention just because I was new to being a mom of two and didn’t yet know how to divide my attention between two perfect little humans (I still have my days, where I feel like I still don’t know how too) who both deserve the best momma I can be and still a better one then me some days.
Once littlest human was done with light bed and blanket, my postpartum anxiety hit (like a semi truck to the face). I panicked about every single thing, even though I wasn’t a new mom I sure felt like one (I seriously forgot how to do everything) and it stressed me out. I wasn’t sleeping, showering,barely eating and crying all the time because I was nursing and constantly feeling like I was starving my child.
Every horrible article online about breastfeeding automatically made me think was me and I was going to starve my baby and not know it. No matter what anyone said I hated it, because I nEver truly knew how much they actually ate each time.
I don’t know how mommas nurse full time for years, you are true inspirations and I am very jealous. So I only made it to three months, then I added formula. That helped with some of my anxiety and I felt great for a little while (and the anxiety meds my doc put me on were doing some of the work too) I thought that I had finally figured out the root of the problem, I was wrong.
Everything seemed to trigger me, any article or movie could send me into a downward spiral. I started to feel like I failed this little human because I could not breastfeed longer because of my own anxiety. Honestly there was absolutely nothing I could do about it, or so I thought.
I was lucky enough to have a best friend too ( ya she might live thousands of miles away right now but I can always teach her by phone) who seriously is always there for me even when I don’t deserve it. I can be selfish in the friendship, I won’t lie she is such a better friend then I am. I can honestly say, she saved me life. She let me know that I was not alone, and that a lot of women who go through what I am going through. Which helped a lot, because postpartum has turned into this big taboo thing that we just aren’t suppose to talk about (like, when men need Viagra?) WHY, because you think it makes you a bad mom, or less of a mom!? Well thats how I was made to feel. Well it’s Bullshit, it makes you a better mom, because your acknowledging something is wrong and you are asking for help.
As women we need to stand together, and share our stories. There are other women outs there, feeling lost and alone because they have no idea that there are other women in that same sinking boat, feeling alone and scared with no one to turn too. We need to stop making postpartum Anxiety and Depression this awkward and scary subject because if it weren’t it could save thousands of lives. Sadly it took me going through and still dealing with hell before I was even made aware how serious postpartum is, no matter how big or small your pain is, it matters and there is helo. So please if you read this and have any similar feelings or know someone who does, talk to your doctor, your spouse, family or there are even hotlines for help your hospitals have contact information for, all it takes is you asking for help.
Thank if you read to the end, until next time.
Mrs. DM ❤