A week after delivery, friends had asked me “how are you doing?” Surprised that I was out and about, given that I just given birth the week before, now in public ready to get jiggy on the dance floor. I told them that I felt good and baby is doing well. Honestly, it was so much more than that. It was like I looking through a peep hole, waiting for someone to REALLY ask me how I was doing.
Truthfully, I was struggling. Isla didn’t have a wet diaper in 24 hours. I immediately blamed my incompetency in breastfeeding. I gave up and turned to exclusively pumping right away. I started crying with Isla in my arms, my mother took her away from me like I was transferring some sadness or disease onto her. It made me feel more inadequate. Everyone focused on my baby when I needed someone to focus on me. I just gave birth and no one was realizing that I, too, needed some comfort. Giving birth was trauma. Physically and emotionally. And all I needed was someone to take care of me.
My husband didn’t take paternity leave so I was essentially on my own. I was fine with it, the first day of just Isla and myself was textbook perfect. She slept and ate. I pumped when she slept and held her in between. I even got laundry done and cleaned the house, put on Christmas music and enjoyed a glass of water. Optimistically, I thought to myself…I can do this. Until, help arrived.
I say help lightly because it was more help for Isla and my husband than it was assistance to me. Grateful for the help that was provided, truly. But, that whole week I felt like I wasn’t bonding with my daughter and afraid she didn’t know I was her mother. That made me feel like I was worth nothing. I honestly just felt like a cow, making milk and handing it off.
There’s this stigma that mothers should focus on themselves after birth, take care of themselves and clean the house, and people will come over and take care of the baby.
Well, I’m calling bullshit. I wish someone warned me about this, I wish someone told me to stand up and say no. The reality is that I am her primary caregiver. I am responsible for her 24 hours, 7 days a week, 365 days a year. I am her life line. Anyone can come over and take care of your children, but they’re only there for a few days then leave. I learned as a parent, you have to set the rules and you have to start on day 1. The bonding process with your baby is so imperative the first few days. What hurt me the most was that people actually blamed me because I wasn’t nursing on the breast. Someone said well if you were breastfeeding this wouldn’t be a problem. Mom shaming at it’s finest right here.
Nothing made me feel so depressed when I felt like I wasn’t bonding with my baby. Everyone wanted to hold her, feed her, change her…which I am grateful for. TRULY. But they kept taking her away from me and I wish I was strong enough to say no. But I didn’t know any better.
If I can give any advice to any woman getting ready to give birth or has recently given birth, it’s to be firm. If someone wants to come by after you delivered, they better be cleaning your house, making you breakfast, lunch, and dinner, driving you places, being your support person and letting YOU take care of YOUR baby. If they’re not doing any of this, they shouldn’t be welcomed in your house. Because like I said, they are only there for x days, you are there 365 days of the year for at least 18 years.
I remember sitting on the toilet, I spilled water all over the floor and just started balling. Tears, flowing like an angry river. Things weren’t going my way, I had no energy to clean up the mess. It hurt to stand up. I just wanted to give up. I wanted my mom, because no one can take better care of you than the person who was there since day 1. I didn’t realize it until later, but I am Isla’s day 1. Giving up wasn’t an option. I have to be there for her.
I voiced my problems to my husband but the people who actually kept me going through my first week of motherhood, were other moms. My friends who had given birth and knew exactly what I was going through. They were my lifeline at that point. When I felt like giving up, they kept pushing me and encouraging me. Even my best friends kept me grounded. All these girls, miles away, were able to reach me emotionally and I can’t thank them enough for their continued support. They are the ones who encouraged me to talk about it, share it with other new moms, veteran moms, and everyone who knows a mom. Everyone is so excited about a newborn baby, they forget about the mom. The one who suffered months of changes. The one who went through debilitating weeks of sickness. The one who sacrificed everything to create a bundle of grace.
Here’s my two cents, if you know someone who has recently given birth or will be soon, think about how you can help them because they are the ones who need it the most. Their babies will be ok, they are more resilient than you think. But mothers, they need all the support and love you can provide.
I’m 4 months out and I’m still figuring out this mommy thing. I’m no expert in motherhood, but if I can leave you with one thought it’s this: You know what’s best for your baby. Not your mother’s, sister’s, neighbor’s, or random bystander’s…God gave you this child. He wouldn’t give you something you can’t handle. It’s through difficult battles, we become stronger.
