Postpartum Journey Pt. 1
I walked into the hospital naive about what was lurking around the corner. The following hours and years would change the course of my life, I was about to become a mom to a beautiful baby boy. I remember having this moment of, “Oh..sh*t I have to get this baby out of me somehow/someway and there’s only two ways out.” There he came 22 hours later mean mugging the whole world and nothing has changed on that front since.
Leaving the hospital the thoughts began and I was scared out of my mind to how I was going to figure this life out with a baby. He didn’t come with a manual or any type of instruction. I felt so alone. My husband was a great support, however he had about as much of a clue as I did. I honestly didn’t prep myself for postpartum life. I was one of the few in our circle that was having a baby at that time, so I didn’t know what to expect. I also had no clue what to ask for, how to ask, or even what to look for. All I knew was that postpartum was just life moving at the same pace but now with a new baby and of course stops for eating and changing diapers.
The following weeks and months became heavy, our son cried nonstop for two weeks straight and that’s when I realized I wasn’t producing enough milk to feed him…or so I thought. He was hungry and I did everything I knew in that moment to help him. I saw a lactation consultant at the pediatric office and she was kind, but I left her office multiple times feeling overwhelmed and on the last visit, I felt completely defeated. Felt like I was doing something wrong. To note, I wasn’t doing anything wrong here, I just wasn’t equipped with the care that was needed for me. Not long after that visit I stopped breastfeeding him. My heart shattered because I had dreams of nursing him and it being this beautiful experience. Which nursing is beautiful, however it is also very difficult and takes a lot of work. I will forever be that broken record, motherhood is beautifully messy and so is trying to nurse your baby.
Life went on and so did I. The first year of my sons life felt lonely, dark, and it felt like this deep pit that I couldn’t get myself out of and I had no clue what was going on with me. I couldn’t make it to the grocery store less than 5 minutes away without going into panic mode. I worried about whether or not I had everything I needed for a “quick” run in or that something terrible was going to happen to him or even myself-I’d have these episodes just flash before my eyes. I felt heavy and burden by my thoughts and lack of connection. However, I just kept the train moving and just kept marking off the boxes.
It was a hot summer day that I FINALLY took my then 18 month old to the zoo by myself. And ya know what? I didn’t have a single anxious thought run through my head or terrible vision that clouded my brain. I soaked in that day with all that I had. I still remember it because it was the turning point for me. It was the day that I realized that what I was experiencing was too heavy of a burden to carry alone. I had pushed some of the closest people in my life away. I kept myself home as much as I could. So on this day, I took a photo of our son to remember it all by and I wanted proof that things can get better. In that moment they were better, in that moment there was a light in me I didn’t want to forget. I will forever hold onto that photo and smile, because it was such a beautiful day for us.
Though I realized that I was struggling, I still couldn’t have put any type of name to it. I questioned the past year and a half as a mother, I put pressure on myself wondering how I didn’t know what was happening, did anyone notice how I had changed and if they did, boy do I wish I could’ve known. Things like that weren’t as openly talked about 9 years ago as they are now.
With this recognition, I honestly still didn’t seek treatment for awhile, it would be a few years, a round of blood draws to test for autoimmune diseases and even went through another pregnancy before I would. The only time I had ever been asked if I was depressed or had anxiety was at my 6 week postpartum appointment, I wasn’t seen again until my yearly checkup. All they gave me was a checklist to mark off and not a single conversation about what was truly going on. I wanted nothing more than to have a medical provider look me in my eyes and see me, see that there was something missing.
Looking back I see all the clues and I wish I could’ve done something different. However, I couldn’t change it, but I sure as hell grew from it. If I hadn’t gone through all of that I wouldn’t be the woman and mother I am today.
-Brit