Un-thought out
I seem to have a few minutes while the baby is in her swing, so I thought I'd type something, spontaneously. Unfortunately, I don't seem to have time these days to think out a blog post in advance and, like, prepare it and edit it and stuff. First of all, sorry that I had to put on that word verification filter thing-- I hate those because sometimes I can't read the code myself, and I get it wrong and the blog calls me a spam robot, which hurts my feelings. But I had to put it on because I was getting so much spam on this blog.
I am doing better than I was before. I am learning some ways of being with Daisy that are more sane and less frantic. The first big breakthrough was discovering the fabulousness of the baby bjorn. The baby bjorn means you can strap the baby on and actually carry on about your day, washing dishes, doing laundry, preparing food to eat--and the baby isn't even screaming, because she likes the movement. I was so relieved that I could walk about and do things-- it was a momentous discovery for me, as simple as it seems. Second, I discovered a little trick to using my mechanical swing. The trick was not to put Daisy in it when she was already in a fussy mood. She just fusses and wants to get out after ten minutes. But if I put her in there when she's calm, she'll stay for an hour or more. I feel guilty, like I'm a bad mother, but I can't hold her all day long or I'll go crazy.
So I am getting out more and feeling less trapped and helpless and incompetent. I have some reflections on the past few weeks. Mainly, I think it turned out not to be true that "the first two weeks are the hardest," which is what they told us in our newborn classes (no harsh critique of the classes intended, however--I really appreciated them). I was so manically high and euphoric those first two weeks, and everything was so new and exciting, I felt like I could have gone on forever, never sleeping, being endlessly fascinated by Daisy, introducing her to everyone, etc. So-- if I were to give advice to a new mom, I'd say the first two weeks are not the hardest, even though you are learning everything for the first time and you're physically recovering (the C-section recovery is certainly the hardest in the first two weeks).
But the feelings of post-partum downness were harder later-- I'd say in the third and fourth weeks (I'm not quite to the end of week five, so I can't say anything yet about that). I thought the first two weeks were so thrilling and exciting that I could never be down about them. And, in a perverse way, I kind of liked being in the hospital. I even liked the food, which is a weird thing that I need to think about. It was when the initial excitement started to die down a little, and the weeks of sleep deprivation caught up with me, and the practical realities of day-to-day living with a baby hit me with full clarity--along with full understanding of the things you can't do anymore--that the poopy feelings started to assail me a bit.
My mom went home, and Mark went back to work, and there I was, with Daisy, unable to take a shower, or do email, or check all my favorite blogs, or make a simple phone call. That was when I started to feel a little depressed, or, at least, when I started to feel some grief about the life that was lost to me. I found myself sitting in the glider, trying desperately to glide Daisy to sleep so I could rest myself, weeping inconsolably to a lullabye CD my friend gave me. Who ever knew lullabyes were so sad? (Most people, probably.)
But I am doing better this week and feeling more like my old self. And the baby is swinging happily! I will go get her soon and take her for a beautiful walk in the stroller to Baker Beach.
I hope to be able to catch up with reading everyone's blogs, at least catch up a little bit, soon.
I am doing better than I was before. I am learning some ways of being with Daisy that are more sane and less frantic. The first big breakthrough was discovering the fabulousness of the baby bjorn. The baby bjorn means you can strap the baby on and actually carry on about your day, washing dishes, doing laundry, preparing food to eat--and the baby isn't even screaming, because she likes the movement. I was so relieved that I could walk about and do things-- it was a momentous discovery for me, as simple as it seems. Second, I discovered a little trick to using my mechanical swing. The trick was not to put Daisy in it when she was already in a fussy mood. She just fusses and wants to get out after ten minutes. But if I put her in there when she's calm, she'll stay for an hour or more. I feel guilty, like I'm a bad mother, but I can't hold her all day long or I'll go crazy.
So I am getting out more and feeling less trapped and helpless and incompetent. I have some reflections on the past few weeks. Mainly, I think it turned out not to be true that "the first two weeks are the hardest," which is what they told us in our newborn classes (no harsh critique of the classes intended, however--I really appreciated them). I was so manically high and euphoric those first two weeks, and everything was so new and exciting, I felt like I could have gone on forever, never sleeping, being endlessly fascinated by Daisy, introducing her to everyone, etc. So-- if I were to give advice to a new mom, I'd say the first two weeks are not the hardest, even though you are learning everything for the first time and you're physically recovering (the C-section recovery is certainly the hardest in the first two weeks).
But the feelings of post-partum downness were harder later-- I'd say in the third and fourth weeks (I'm not quite to the end of week five, so I can't say anything yet about that). I thought the first two weeks were so thrilling and exciting that I could never be down about them. And, in a perverse way, I kind of liked being in the hospital. I even liked the food, which is a weird thing that I need to think about. It was when the initial excitement started to die down a little, and the weeks of sleep deprivation caught up with me, and the practical realities of day-to-day living with a baby hit me with full clarity--along with full understanding of the things you can't do anymore--that the poopy feelings started to assail me a bit.
My mom went home, and Mark went back to work, and there I was, with Daisy, unable to take a shower, or do email, or check all my favorite blogs, or make a simple phone call. That was when I started to feel a little depressed, or, at least, when I started to feel some grief about the life that was lost to me. I found myself sitting in the glider, trying desperately to glide Daisy to sleep so I could rest myself, weeping inconsolably to a lullabye CD my friend gave me. Who ever knew lullabyes were so sad? (Most people, probably.)
But I am doing better this week and feeling more like my old self. And the baby is swinging happily! I will go get her soon and take her for a beautiful walk in the stroller to Baker Beach.
I hope to be able to catch up with reading everyone's blogs, at least catch up a little bit, soon.
posted by Sarah Goss at 12:51 PM
3 Comments:
I remember weeping and weeping with Baby 2 (last year) simply because I knew I would never have another baby again. Never breastfeed again. I would carry her around while she slept, weeping--I scared the bejesus out of my husband one night, when I wandered into the bedroom like a wraith, weeping w/baby. He thought she'd died or something.
No, you're not a bad mother. You are learning how to take care fo yourself so that you can better take care of Baby.
I am glad to know I am not the only one who has gone through the scary weeping after birth. I've never been much of a weeper, either, and now-- Old Faithful.
I want to read your blog, Marguerite... maybe I can do it while the baby's temporarily napping now!
There's not a lot in the blog about baby stuff--and she's no longer a baby, she's now The Li'l Empress. Adorable and exasperating. She smears Hamburger Helper in her hair one moment. The next, she pats her rib cage and warbles "Bleblee!" (for belly). This is Nature's way of trying to ensure I don't kill her; her defense is Cuteness.
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