Things are finally starting to settle down and I think the postpartum baby blues have completely left my body now. It feels nice to be on my computer again since little Monkey is sleeping. I know that I’m supposed to sleep when he does, but I can’t grasp napping during the day just yet. (Maybe I’m just not tired enough?!)
I wish things weren’t so crazy when we first got home because I would have loved to blog about how I was feeling. I’ll try my best to recap my feelings for you now, but I feel completely different now, which is such a good thing!
I couldn’t wait to be discharged from the hospital last Saturday. I was ready to go! It was an exciting time to have Tarzan pack up the car and for me and Monkey to be wheeled down to meet him at the car. It was also a scary time, like “Oh my gosh, this is it. They are letting us go home with this baby. How will we know what to do?”
I gave Tarzan the honors of putting Monkey in his car seat and I sat in the back with him while we embarked on the drive home. It wasn’t too eventful and Tarzan and I talked about how crazy it was to be leaving with a baby. Just two days prior we were just “Jane and Tarzan, party of two” and now we were “Jane, Tarzan, Monkey, party of three”.
We were parents all of a sudden. It wasn’t just about the two of us anymore. We arrived at the hospital being a twosome and we were leaving as parents. So crazy mixed with a lot of scary and a little uneasiness.
Once we got home, Tarzan and Monkey stayed in the car and I went inside to greet our dog. I know I’m a mom to a baby now, but I am also a mom to our dog too. It’s so important for both Tarzan and myself that we don’t forget about our dog during this process. I greeted our dog, let him sniff a blanket that Monkey was wrapped in, played with him, and gave him lots of love (and treats too!).
Then I went back into the car to stay with Monkey while Tarzan came in the house to do the same thing with our dog. Once he came to the car, he got Monkey out of the car seat and I got our dog. I was hoping that he would be okay with the baby, but sadly he wanted nothing to do with him.
He’s the type of dog that doesn’t seem to welcome change at all, so I’m sure bringing home this new baby (who was crying at the time) just sent shivers down his spine. He wasn’t aggressive towards him or anything, just keeping his distance.
Once we all made it in the house Monkey was screaming his head off (so hungry from the drive home), Tarzan was trying to bring in all of our bags from the car, I was holding Monkey and wanting to cry myself, and then our dog threw up. Poor thing. I guess it was too much “excitement” for him and his nerves got the best of him.
After trying to balance out the mess that was now our life, we sat down and tried to calm down Monkey. This is about the time that I wanted to run away. Hello postpartum blues.
It’s a strange feeling really. On one hand I was ecstatic to be a mom to a perfect and healthy little boy. I was happy to be home with my new family. I was thrilled to see our dog. But on the other hand, I was terrified. I had so many doubts about this new life.
Even though I was pregnant for 9 months, it still wasn’t enough time to fully prepare for just how much my life was going to change. Sure, at the end of my pregnancy, I was telling everyone that I was ready and couldn’t wait to meet my little man… and that was true, but I hadn’t fully grasped what motherhood meant.
And I guess I couldn’t know what it was like to be a mother since I wasn’t one yet. It’s one of those things that you have to experience for yourself to fully know what it is like. It’s just like the advice I got from everyone while pregnant: “Enjoy this time with your husband because it won’t be the same after the baby is here. Nap when you can. Go out to eat often. Go to the movies.”
So many people told me that but I never understood that life would be so drastically different. Now I wish I would have taken y’alls advice a little more seriously because I was missing alone time with my husband after giving birth. It was still great and wonderful between us, but the reality of the fact that it wasn’t just “us” anymore sent me into tears many, many times.
It’s the biggest change of our lives and that doesn’t come easy at all. It takes time to adjust. It takes time to try to get in the swing of things so that you don’t feel like you are completely failing at being a mother. It takes so many emotions out of you too. You are on a high at times, feeling so good, like you just got this mothering thing down… and then your baby cries and you can’t figure out why and you begin to fall apart. You feel inadequate.
It’s all part of postpartum blues. Who knew that you could feel like a big loser at what’s supposed to be the happiest times of your life? It’s hard to swallow, that’s for sure.
There were times that I would just look into Monkey’s eyes and cry. He would be sound asleep on me, but the tears wouldn’t stop. I felt like a bad mom here too. There are so many people that struggle with getting pregnant or there are complications with their little one at birth. Here I was with a perfectly healthy pregnancy and newborn and something inside of me felt off.
I could look down at his sleeping so angelic, but yet have tears that my life was not like I knew it to be previously. Not that I regret him because that’s the furtherest thing from the truth. I love him so much and I didn’t know I was capable of that much love. It’s just a hard balance initially; trying to fix all the pregnancy hormones and emotions running wild while loving and taking care of this little precious angel.
But I digress. Back to the rest of the night…
We got Monkey to calm down by putting him on my chest. We were laying on the couch together. Tarzan was putting together the swing (lifesaver!) and we were waiting for my mom to arrive. When she came over she brought Carrabas for dinner and things were still calm. We tried putting Monkey in his pack n’ play so we could eat.
I took one bite of bread and he started to cry. I started to cry too. Tarzan comforted me and my mom told me to eat – She was going to take care of the little Monkey. I told them that this was too much. Our life was too different. I wasn’t ready for this. How would we ever eat dinner together again?
This is all new territory for me because I’m not usually afraid of change. I’ve picked up and moved around randomly and like that I’m not fearful of change. But when it comes to my whole life changing over the matter of a night, it’s different and gets to me. Now I was responsible for this little being and that’s a lot of pressure. What if I fail and suck at being a mom? So many what if’s were running through my mind, hence all of the many tears.
Even though tons of tears were streaming from my face, I could look at my little boy and smile and know deep down (really deep down) that things were going to be all right in time. We all just needed to adjust.
I got some sleep that night and I felt better the next day. It’s amazing what sleep deprivation will make you feel like and it’s equally amazing what getting some sleep will do for you too. I felt like I was ready to conquer this motherhood thing. Like I was capable of doing it now. Not gonna lie, it was a nice feeling.
But short-lived.
I got tired again. I wasn’t really eating – When was there time? And what appetite was I feeding because I surely wasn’t hungry at all. And water consumption? Forget about it.
When I was pregnant I drank so much water. Shoot, even before I was pregnant me and water were friends. I would pick water over Coke, tea, and anything else. But with a baby I’m finding it’s hard to even shower. There’s always a million things to do and sometimes I forget to take care of myself. (Proud to say that I’ve showered everyday though.)
Monday night was rough too. My mom was making dinner in the kitchen, I just fed Monkey, and Tarzan suggested I take a bath. After all, I love baths. I wasn’t too excited about taking a bath, but I gave in. I ran the bath water, climbed in the bathtub, and began to cry.
At first it was only tears, but that turned in to full-blown bawling. Alone. In the bathtub. Not a good combination.
Next thing I knew Tarzan was in the bathroom asking me what was wrong. I just told him that everything was changing too fast. We, the couple that did everything together, would no longer be. We, the couple who prided ourselves on not having a schedule or daily routine, would now have to follow some sort of a schedule for the sake of our new child. We, the couple that slept in daily until we were ready to wake up, would have to follow a baby’s schedule. And I went on and on.
All trivial things really, but it scared the crap out of me. When I was pregnant I was so scared of losing myself in the process. I never wanted to be that girl who only talked about strollers and baby poop. Now that I have a baby I became scared of what my daily life would be like.
Of course my wonderful husband sat on the edge of the tub, stroking my arm and telling me that everything would be just fine. He said that he read some information on postpartum blues and that these feelings should pass soon. He said that all of these feelings I was having were normal and part of postpartum blues after having a baby. He told me that he was so proud of me and that I was already such a great mom to our little boy. He said that we would get in the swing of things and having a routine wouldn’t be so bad. He even went as far to say that it would be good for us.
After crying for at least 30 minutes, I decided that it wasn’t the best time to be alone in the bathtub. It was only making me feel worse because I was forced to think about how everything changed. And then there’s our dog too…
He wouldn’t even come near me. Tarzan picked him up and I leaned over to give him a kiss and got nothing. This made me cry even more & say that I thought he hated me. I’m sure this whole process has to be weird and hard for a dog, especially our dog because he was our only baby for the past 6 years. Tarzan told me not to take it personal; our dog would come around soon enough. It would just take some time.
That night really sticks out to me as the worst of the worst for my postpartum blues.
I just felt completely inexperienced and completely incapable of taking care of our baby… and that’s such an awful feeling when you are a new mom. I even told Tarzan that I didn’t feel very motherly at all. I didn’t really talk to the baby and I certainly didn’t sing to him. I would try so hard to comfort Monkey but I was a mess myself. It turned into a disaster that would always end with more crying. And that’s incredibly depressing when you can’t really see the light at the end of the tunnel.
What’s also really depressing and has nothing to do with postpartum blues is the fact that I started to leak everywhere. Everywhere, I tell you! No one told me that my vagina would bleed off and on for 6 weeks after labor and delivery. I had no idea. It’s such a process to go to the bathroom: Pee, cleanse myself with warm water, put a pad on my panties, put Tucks pads on, put epifoam on Tucks pads, pat myself dry, spray something on my vagina, pull up pants, and wash hands. It’s exhausting!
Aside from leaking down there, my boobs started to leak. I woke up one morning to find my shirt and nursing bra completely wet. Ever since then, you can rest assure that I don’t forget to wear my nursing pads anymore! My mouth also leaks. Apparently pregnancy made me start drooling and it hasn’t stopped now that I have a baby. And my body sweats at night. No idea why because I’m not really hot.
So not being able to see the baby situation getting better, paired with leaking everywhere, I was not too excited about this chapter of my life.
Tuesday night my mom left. Consider it bad timing to have the baby when I did because my parent’s house that they were building was finished and it was time for them to close on it. We were on our own on Tuesday night, Wednesday night, and Thursday night and it was tough. I didn’t get so emotional about it because I knew that my mom would be coming back; I just wasn’t exactly sure when that would be.
Tuesday night was awful for us. Monkey was really fussy and it seemed that there was nothing we could do to calm him. Again, I just cried and Tarzan looked like he wanted to. It’s pretty damn frustrating when you change the diaper, feed him, burp him, comfort him, rock him, and nothing seems to calm him down. We were up off and on all night long and we both had a look like “What did we get ourselves into?” on our faces.
Wednesday night was better. Tarzan told me to take a nap since we didn’t get much sleep the night before and I did. When I first woke up, my first thought was, “Oh, this is still my reality.” And then I buried my head back under my pillow. It’s like I was hoping to wake up and have my old life back in a sense. Not for one second did I wish my son wasn’t here, I just longed for how easy my life was before he joined us. It’s so hard to put into words just how I was feeling…
I got a lot of sleep that night and Tarzan took care of Monkey while I slept. Sleep is an amazing pick-me-up, I’ve learned. This was always the night that everything seemed to change for the better.
While Tarzan was taking care of Monkey he figured something out. I had told him previously that I thought we were missing Monkey’s hunger cues because I read that crying is the last one. Tarzan decided to wake up Monkey every 3-4 hours so that he wasn’t so frantic when he woke up screaming on his own. This worked all night for Tarzan and for me when I took over so T. could sleep.
Then things started to get a little easier for us. We were still without my mom, but we were handling things at home and doing a pretty good job with minimal tears coming from me. It was a nice change. We woke up, fed Monkey, put him down for a nap, and then had breakfast together. I even commented to Tarzan about how nice it was and how it was just like our “old” life. It’s amazing what things I probably took for granted between the two of us prior to Monkey being here. I didn’t really entirely just how precious everyday things were, like running errands together or eating breakfast together.
Tarzan and I would comment over the next few days how proud of ourselves we were that we were in control of everything without my mom. We said what a good team we are and would “bump” our fists and then burst into laughter. I felt a little more like myself with every day that passed and I felt a little more confidence build up inside of me when it came to taking care of our son too.
It was nice. Very, very nice. And I felt like the postpartum blues were slipping further and further away from my body. My hormones were starting to balance out once again and I was feeling like I was capable of taking care of my new, little family.
My mom came back on Friday night and she fed Monkey while Tarzan and I slept. I’d been pumping so there was enough breastmilk for her to feed him at night while I skipped one feeding to sleep. (I was told this was okay to do and my sanity depended on it.)
My postpartum baby blues were diminishing with each day and I was feeling more in control and like I could actually handle my life. I will admit that I was scared of how the postpartum blues were making me feel. I never had any death thoughts for myself or my son like what might happen with postpartum depression, just so you know. It was more a feeling of being extremely incapable and just downright scared about this huge new change. And what a big change it is!
I was chatting with one of my best friends on instant messenger briefly one day while I was in the midst of feeling the postpartum blues. Not a good idea.
The whole time I was pregnant I was telling her that she should get pregnant too. She was not onboard with that at all. This particular day on instant messenger she asked how things were and how I was doing. I told her that she should definitely wait to have kids until she is ready because it’s a huge adjustment. I told her that it was hard work and that I was scared. Then Monkey started to cry and I had to go.
When I talked to her a couple of days ago she told me that I sounded better and more positive about everything. She said that I worried her when we last talked because it wasn’t like me to say to wait until she was ready. I was always so gung ho on her having kids with me and suddenly I wasn’t that way anymore. I told her that I was having a rough time, but I still thought she would wait until she’s ready. Duh.
My mom just left yesterday for good. I cried. Even though I’m feeling better about everything, I know that I’m a good mom to Monkey, and I know that I have a good partner in Tarzan, it’s a little scary once again. My mom didn’t do much baby stuff with Monkey while she was here. She helped us at night so we could sleep better and she cooked dinner, did laundry, the dishes, etc, but we took care of him during the day.
She reminded me of this when I was crying. She said that I knew what I was doing and I was such a good mom to Monkey already. She knew that we would be okay without her. And deep down I know she’s right. There was just something so comforting about knowing that she was here. Another pair of hands was really helpful and just to hear her thoughts was helpful too. She’s raised kids before and we’re still alive and doing well so she did something right!
I know that she would have stayed longer if I asked her to, but I also knew it was time to not be selfish either. I’m sure she was really excited to spend a night in her new house and unpack things like she wanted to do. It would be so nice to have my mom here with us to always help out, but I also know that Tarzan and I will do okay without her. It’s time to grow up some more and be parents… on our own.
We are a little family now and it’s time to step up to the plate and take care of things. I’m sure that I’ll never sleep as well as I did before Monkey was here, but I wouldn’t trade seeing him look up at me and smile for any amount of sleep in the world. He’s so precious to me already and I’m going to do all that I can to be the very best mom to him ever.
He deserves all the love in the world and no matter how inexperienced we might be right now, our hearts are overflowing with love for this little guy and experience doesn’t matter. That will come in time and our love will just keep on growing stronger and stronger with each day that passes.
You might also want to read:
- Postpartum blues, help with breastfeeding, and ramblings from an overtired Daddy.
- Three weeks postpartum: 14 things I’ve learned about being a mom, having a baby, & not going crazy
- Past memory of postpartum depression, breastfeeding Monkey, & my dog
- 26 weeks pregnant: Ready or not only 98 days left until we meet our baby boy
- 40 things about what to expect after labor and delivery, childbirth, and coming home that no one told me
Thank you for sharing your experience! While everyone is so open to talking about baby blues these days - in my case they only ask "How are you feeling?" This just implies that they are asking about baby blues and secretly hoping that you will say "I'm doing great - no blues for me!" :-) I just had my first baby July 1 and struggled with the same feelings of gloom for a few days....and my 6 year old puppy dog (aka first baby) not liking me so much anymore. I'm sure you realize by now that everything gets better - and it really does. Every so often I have a rough patch (like yesterday when I swore the baby only looked at me as a milk machine and would never smile at me again) but the good news is that it lasts minutes or hours instead of days. I find it helps me to keep moving forward when I have a little something to look forward to every day - going out to dinner, running to Target for errands, going for a walk in the park, visiting friends, etc. This weekend will be our first trip with baby so I've been in an organizing tizzy all week trying to think of everything I'll need. Thank you again for sharing - Monkey is lucky to have a wonderful momma like you!
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