I feel like a ton of women get on their blogs, reflect on some little occurrence that happened in their day, and expand on how that little occurrence is a symbol or metaphor for some life lesson. There's nothing wrong with that, but this post is not that. It's about how freaking hard transitioning into motherhood was for me and how I feel everyone lied to me about how hard it was going to be.
Okay, so the statement about everyone lying to me may be a little over the top, but I do feel that way to some extent. I have opened up about how hard of a time I had for the first month to mothers who completely understood and said they had been there...but I remember when they became mothers, they had a smile on their face and told me and everyone else how great it was and how sweet their babies were. I was totally unprepared for the first month of becoming a mom.
#1. No one told me how horrific the recovery can be after having a baby. Granted, my recovery was far worse than many others (3rd degree) so in a way, that wasn't anyone's fault. I didn't expect to not be able to walk, stand, sit, get in bed, bathe, or even slightly be able to take care of myself. Better yet another tiny human. This was by far the worst part. I haven't experienced helplessness and pain like that EVER- and throw in trying to learn why my baby was crying and how to breastfeed with an average of 2 hours of sleep per night- you have a complete basket case.
#2. No one told me how hard breastfeeding is. The only thing people ask is "are you going to try to breastfeed?" Everyone left out that it's literally one of the hardest things you'll ever try to do and the odds are against you. Plus, it's implied that if you try to breastfeed, you will succeed. I never considered for a second that I wouldn't be able to. I always just "knew" I would and it would take little more than just the act of doing it. Long story short- milk took 7 days to come in, I had very low supply, couldn't pump a drop, and Liam lost too much birth weight, wasn't wetting diapers, and had jaundice. I physically couldn't do it.
#3. No one told me the guilt that comes with giving up breastfeeding. Not only did I not know that breastfeeding could possibly not be an option for me, I didn't know the soul-sucking guilt that would come with buying a can of formula, mixing it, and feeding it to my starving baby because my body failed to nourish him. I've never felt like such a failure in my life. The one thing my body is biologically made to do for my child, I wasn't doing it. On top of that, I now added hundreds of dollars to our monthly budget to buy formula instead of having "free" food for the first six months of his life like we planned. It took me weeks to come to terms with it and I still struggle with it at times.
#4. No one told me that just because you choose to go to formula, that everything is good. Almost as bad as the first two weeks recovering was the following two weeks figuring out what was wrong with my son. He screamed during bottle feedings, screamed after, and screamed during bowel movements. I got irritated when people mentioned colic. He wasn't colicky- he was in pain because of the formula. As if I didn't feel like enough of a failure for not breastfeeding, now my son couldn't handle the formula I was feeding him. Ultimate low. It took two-three VERY long weeks to figure out what was wrong and why he couldn't handle certain formulas. Turns out, he has some sensitivity to lactose and (I think) this ingredient called Palm Olein. Similac Sensitive is not my ideal formula to feed him- it has corn syrup, GMO's, and other ingredients that make me cringe. But I have literally tried every option that's organic and non-GMO. I had to choose between a healthy formula and a screaming pained baby or a crappier formula and a happy pain free baby. I chose the latter. :)
#5. Other moms are so judgmental. One of my least favorite things to do is mix a formula bottle for Liam in public. I can always see other moms with babies watching me or giving me a disproving look. How dare her feed her child that cancer powder...breast is best. It's like women forget that not every woman has a wonderful flowing supply that came in on day 2 to feed their immediately latched baby. I know a lot of it stems from my insecurity lingering from failing at breastfeeding, but I still see the looks and I wish they had better things to do than judge me.
#6. No one told me about postpartum anxiety. You always hear about the Baby Blues and postpartum depression. I didn't have that. I had a wicked version of postpartum anxiety. I'm 100% sure it mostly stemmed from the horrible recovery mixed with the struggles of breastfeeding, but a third factor fueled it for me - monotony. Oh my goodness, the monotony. I am an anti-monotonous person. I hate routine, doing the same thing in the same order literally more than once. It's a huge reason why I chose my job in x-ray. One day I'm in surgery, the next I'm in ER, the next I'm doing fluoroscopy. It changes just enough to where I don't go crazy. I get ready in a different order every morning, have a different routine before bed every night, and do a different workout in the gym everyday. I get bored so easily and monotony feels like a trap. Well, guess what motherhood is- routine, routine, routine. Over and over and over again. I was on a 2-hour cycle that never ended. Day and night, the 2-hour cycle. Breastfeed, see that he was still hungry and wasn't getting anything, top off with formula while hanging my head and shedding a tear, burp, diaper change, have 30-40 minutes until the next feed. It was the most terrifying monotonous trap I've ever been in and it didn't end when the sun went down. I had a really really hard time dealing with this. Even as I type this, 2 months in, I still get that nervous anxiety about being stuck in the same routine every 3-4 hours indefinitely (or so it feels). The anxiety kept me from sleeping, eating, and enjoying anything. I was a nervous wreck all the time. I've never had anxiety in my life and here I was with the most crippling anxiety I could ever imagine. I didn't even know what anxiety felt like. I just felt constantly nervous like I was about to get on stage and make a huge speech. The racing heart made me nauseous and I could never relax. Funny thing was- it wasn't about my brand new baby like I think most other mothers have anxiety about. It was about the never ending 2 hour cycle.
#7. No one told me the importance of getting back to doing things I love- and quickly! I've been a fitness freak the past 4 years and was really worried I wouldn't have time or any interest after Liam. It's been the opposite. People vastly underestimate the power of exercise as a replacement for meds. The anxiety was so disabling, I was actually considering meds so I could get some sleep and calm the heck down. My doctor gave me the best advice and just what I needed 2 weeks postpartum. "You don't need meds, you need to go back to the gym". I went back that night and the relief from the anxiety was immediate. I slept and wasn't nervous for the first time in 14 days. Since I am a mom now, and routine is just part of having a baby, I still feel that hint of anxiety creeping up every once in awhile. I'm not sure if any Type B's are reading this and know exactly what I'm talking about when I freak out at the thought of the entrapment of routine and monotony- but it's just my struggle. Working out everyday is my release and I couldn't be more thankful for it. Doing your hobby (quickly!) after baby makes you feel human again and it's so so important and not selfish even though it seems like it. Taking care of yourself is also taking care of your baby. Words to live by.
These are just the hardships I learned the hard way. I also learned so many blessings and joys I've never experienced and I love them so much. I've heard of parents talking about how much they love their babies and the joy a little smile or coo can bring, but you just don't understand it until it's your own. He is such a sweet baby and his looks, coos, smiles, and milestones swell a part of my heart that I never knew existed. It's amazing how those moments mean more than any personal accomplishment. I watched him bat his hand at a hanging toy from his play mat yesterday and felt as if my son was just elected president. It's insanity. Haha.
I'm not sure why I felt the need to write about this, but if it helps one person be or feel more prepared, or gives another fellow mom a laugh, I guess that's all that matters. :)
PS!! I am getting ready to start my Personal Training journey in a month or two! I plan on writing a little about my plans for that as well as my fears. There are many of both!
