âWhy canât I hear him?â âWhere is he?â There is a sheet between my baby and me. There is a table I canât get off, even if I wanted to, my body is cut open. I was terrified and in tears.
I began the day of my sonâs birth by being drugged up on the epidural (which is how I preferred labor to go), and then cut open so that our doctor could take our baby out of my body. I had a c-section on April 26, 2018 at 7 something in the morning, which was as soon as my doctor arrived, early by the way, for his shift to deliver our baby boy because he had been in distress on and off all night. The meds given to help prepare my body for inducing led to his heart rate dropping with every contraction. We would learn later that my birth canal was too small for even our precious little boy of 5lbs. 14oz.. A c-section was not part of our birth plan. Looking back now, it was whimsical to think we could âplanâ how the most significant event of our lives to date would go.
We didnât hear him cry at first, for what felt like forever there was very noticeably the absence of our babyâs cry. Because this baby boy I had waited nine months to meet was presumably out of my body and in this room but could not be heard or seen by me. I remember finally hearing his little wailing cry and the ocean of relief that was ready to wash over me because if he could cry then he was ok, right? That is how it is in the movies. But then moments, minutes, eternity at a snailâs pace was passing and I still had not SEEN our baby. Why hadn’t they brought him to me? Why wasnât he in my arms? My arms that I felt I couldnât move from the invisible weight that I felt I was under. Not trying to be metaphorical here. The pain meds and the trauma my body was enduring had caused the nerve receptors in the top half of my body to basically be processing the trauma that was happening to my lower half. So, my shoulders and arms really did seem too heavy to lift, too painful to move, felt like I was stuck in cement.
When she later brought our baby boy to me and laid him on my chest, Nate had to hold him there because I physically could not move my arms. That didnât matter anymore. My baby was WITH me. I could feel him. I could see him. He was so beautiful. He was perfect. His breathing regulated of course, which makes perfect sense because hello this is what has happened after a baby is born for, I donât know, always? You lay the baby on the motherâs chest, close to her heart so that he can feel her presence again, like he has for the past 9 months, like she hopes he will for his whole life.
I remember being very angry at the doctor for not immediately doing this. For waiting for me to TELL her to give me my baby. For her even thinking anything else was an option. I very acutely remember wanting to slap her in her face. She may not have needed all of my newfound Mama Bear rage and my attempts to quell my fear and anger but she it was all sitting squarely with her.
I would look back later and still wonder why that had even happened. Why had she waited? Why had he not immediately been given to me? To us? Why had you waited and wondered, doctor? Hadnât you seriously already learned by now, being a doctor and all, that you should give that baby to his Mama?
This whole scenario felt like a big thing at the time. I suppose it still kind of is to me but I wish this was the only difficult thing we had to encounter that weekend or that month. I wish there was anyway we could have prepared for the heartaches ahead. But honestly, as hard as they were, I count my blessings every day because we have our son, alive and well, growing and thriving. And for that, everything else can suck it.
The month of May 2018 was easily the most difficult month of my life so far. Recovering from a c-section, aka major abdominal surgery, while welcoming your fragile, beautiful newborn into your life is overwhelming to say the least. The feedings that seem to happen so quickly after one another that there doesnât feel like you can accomplish anything in between- most importantly not much time to sleep in between.
Before we could be discharged for the hospital, our stay was lengthened due to jaundice. A light tank, looking back now, was so very small and manageable in the scope of what could have gone wrong and health problems he could have faced. But at the time, a mere two days after our son was born, finding out we would have to place him in a light tank with eye coverings and only be able to hold him for feedings was the most heartbreaking thing I could imagine. Our beautiful bundle of joy had finally come out into the world after spending nine months inside my body and now I wouldnât be able to hold him close and comfort him and cuddle and smell him and he wouldnât be able to see any of us? This is still a very difficult memory to look back on. But we survived, got dismissed from the hospital and got to go home with our amazing little boy, which is a wonderful feeling in itself.
Breastfeeding proved to be its own beast. A beast I would abandon rather than slay, about 2 months later, because there were more important monsters to face. And the most important matter was that our little boy was fed and growing.
Two days after arriving home, Nateâs parents flew in for a week long visit. I want to preface this part of the story with saying I had actually insisted on them coming at this time and booked their flights myself. Our son arrived a week after his due date so when we had planned Nateâs parents trip we knew Levi would be almost a week to two weeks old depending on his arrival. I also had a very short time I could take for maternity leave and we needed to avoid arguments about being unwilling to leave Levi with them while we were at work. This was the case for many reasons but the biggest of which was Maryâs health, she had had stage 4 pancreatic cancer for 3 ½ years already. Her doctor had stopped any treatment but pain management 5 months prior and Mary was dwindling at an alarming rate. Their week with us was so amazing and so difficult at the same time. I canât do justice to explaining this part because until you have brought your new baby home you have no idea what it feels like to be a new parent and learning how to care for a newborn and also having your husband return to work. Nate only had 5 paid days he could take. I had 17 paid days. Both of these amounts were too incredibly short for what we were doing- welcoming the newest member of our family and experiencing the way life has absolutely, completely changed.
When his parents flew home the following Tuesday with my 8 days of remaining maternity leave it felt like I might actually have a moment to breathe and figure this mom thing out. Two days later, his mom passed away. I want to absolutely take this moment to say that she was 100% holding on for dear life to have the chance to meet her first ever grandbaby. She had been eagerly, impatiently waiting for him since well before my husband and I ever met. It is a huge understatement to say that meeting Levi was a moment in her life that she had been hoping for for so many years.
We packed up and drove the 6 hour car trip to Midland with our 2 week old baby the next day. We planned the funeral and helped with all of the arrangements and communication. A daunting and overwhelming task for anyone but especially two brand new parents. We drove back home after the funeral with our 19 day old baby so that the graveside could be held in our city. Nateâs dad rode down with his best friend. We all thought my father in law would be moving here after she passed so she had asked to be buried here since they had no family in Midland. The graveside was held the next day with the arms of our family and small group family around all of us.
The next day my mom and I finally made it to Leviâs first opthamologist appointment. Levi was born with ptosis of his right eye. We were having his first real exam, first official diagnosis and first treatment plan as well as an overview of what we could expect as he grows.
The following day was my last day of maternity leave. I returned to work on Monday May 21st, 5 days before Levi turned one month old. I had 3 weeks of school left until summer break. Over the next few weeks, I was very depressed and frustrated. I did not want to return to work and I missed my baby. The other circumstances of the past month were only making all of this struggle that much harder.
Summer would come to feel like the maternity leave that I hadnât really had before. And I am so grateful that I did have the summer. I cherished every moment and it still flew by way too fast. Even returning to work in August came with its own set of challenges.
The mayo clinic offers this definition of postpartum: âMost new moms experience postpartum “baby blues” after childbirth, which commonly include mood swings, crying spells, anxiety and difficulty sleeping. Baby blues typically begin within the first two to three days after delivery, and may last for up to two weeks.
But some new moms experience a more severe, long-lasting form of depression known as postpartum depression. Rarely, an extreme mood disorder called postpartum psychosis also may develop after childbirth.â source
I am still not sure if I have postpartum or if the circumstances of my life after baby prompted an extended period of âbaby blues.â I donât know that it matters to call it one or the other. But I do know that sharing my story will help others because knowing I was not alone helped me tremendously. I have two amazing supportively and locationly close best friends who saw me in person and not only recognized my mood changes but also sympathized and supported me in sharing what helped them.
I am still struggling with my mood and with trying to avoid the dark pit of despair I know I could wallow in and be swallowed up. Most days I donât put on makeup, not even the mascara I used to apply in 2 quick minutes. Most days I donât straighten my hair or try to dress in a way that makes me feel confident. Most days I avoid looking in the mirror. And the clothes I wear out are big and baggy so hopefully others wonât notice the pounds I havenât lost. I donât like the way my body looks and feels but I try not to dwell on it and I certainly havenât had the energy to do much to change it. I know my body has gone through a miracle. And I am grateful. But I am also still in mourning for the body I used to think was fat. I miss sleep and am constantly tired even when he sleeps through the night, as he usually, thankfully, does.
Almost everyday I wish for more hours in the day because there has not been enough snuggles, smiles, food, sleep and relaxing to go along with all the hours of driving, working, and stressing. However, I try to count my blessings each day. Focusing on the blessings is still a work in progress. I am so fortunate that Levi has been very happy and healthy and he brightens my day and mood with every moment we have together.
I didnât escape postpartum without blues, scars, and struggles with depression. But I did escape with my happy, healthy baby and he is what I cling to, he has made all the difference.
If you are struggling with any of this please tell someone, seek help, especially from your doctor. You donât have to suffer in silence.
Mama B's blog 