Krystle, friend and client of Chesapeake Birth and Baby, shares with us her raw emotions about new motherhood.
I am not a big crier. Sure, I cry at Love Actually or a lost loved one. But, for myself, I don’t really cry. Since becoming a mom I have cried, of course I’ve cried a lot.
Becoming a mom is the hardest and strangest experience of my live. Everyone says it’s hard, but admittedly I let that pass without much thought. My new life though, uncontrollable, chin trembling, crocodile tears flow like the Nile. Not to mention the pathetic silent, I don’t want anyone to know, late at night, rolling tears. There’s also the quick, I have to get this emotion out, 30 second cry.
There are three reasons why I’ve cried since Elliott; 1) sleep deprivation (it’s very real and very obvious why it is used in torture), 2) feeling overwhelmed (I now have to keep this human alive and there aren’t instructions), and 3) missing my old self.
Sleep Deprivation
On my birthday, Elliott, our new and adorable daughter, decided to cluster feed. After waking me up every 45 minutes to eat, and crying for 20 minutes after feeding, I managed a meager one hour and twenty minutes of sleep….total. The exhaustion was deep. I couldn’t form complete sentences, hold my eyes open, or think clearly. At 6:00 in the morning, my husband overheard the tears. An act of mercy, he took sweet Elliott downstairs for the entire morning, bringing her to me only to feed. Four weeks in and the sleep deprivation doesn’t get better, but you get better at handling it. I survive by napping when she naps and binge watching TV during cluster feeds. You learn survival techniques that work for you.
Overwhelmed
On the second night of Elliott’s life, I was running on pure adrenaline. After 36 hours of laboring at home, then 14 hours more at the hospital, and a NICU scare, Elliott was finally here and she was healthy! Having her in my arms was such a loving moment. Except now, I have to keep her alive, and I don’t really know what I’m doing. I should’ve studied more. I stood there in the dark with crocodile tears as the despair raced through my mind: Is she crying because she’s hungry? Does she have a fever? Does she feel hot to you? What about her diaper? Is she too cold? Should she be up every hour? Is anything coming out when I feed her? Are my boobs broken? Seriously, these are real, and she had only been alive for 28 hours. This part gets easier over time. As you level up (on the job) you start to gain experience and confidence each day.
Missing Me
No one talks about missing your old self/life and I was least prepared for this. I loved my life before I became a mom. I did something to “treat yo self” everyday. My husband and I had enough flexibility in our careers and bank accounts to travel the world, eat out, and do what we wanted. My life is no longer my life, it’s Elliott’s. She is the conductor of every moment of my day and every thought in my head.
The first thing I noticed that was vastly different from the old me were the psychological and the physical changes. I now have obsessive thoughts about Elliott’s well being and development. I’m constantly checking the temperature in the house, worrying germs, her weight gain (is it too much?), her sleep patterns (for the love of God why isn’t there consistency), her mental development (Am I talking to her enough? On no, I forgot to read to her today). I’m telling you it’s a mind trap right now. The physical changes are enough to send anyone into a tailspin. My boobs leak all day long. I mean sopping wet, all the way down my shirt. I used to be very physically fit, but now my whole whole body feels soft, not just my core but my back, arms, and even calves. I miss my clothes and they way they used to fit. I miss not having to wear nursing friendly tops. I keep wondering if I’m ever going to feel like I used to.
I had all the time in the world for myself, I would soak in the bath for however long I wanted, now I am lucky if I brush my teeth before 4 in the afternoon. Now my showers, when I can take them, are cut to 5 minutes long because I cannot clearly see Elliott breathing through the shower door (see obsessive thoughts paragraph above) or because Elliott has decided she’s hungry again, though she just ate 10 minutes ago.
My freedom is the last piece of missing my old self. I no longer can have that extra glass of wine after dinner, or book a weekend trip just to get away. When I go to bed, I am so exhausted I immediately fall asleep instead of cuddling with my partner. I eat my meals in five minutes flat. Even leaving the house to go grocery shopping feels awful because I’m not with her.
These moments, when I long for who I used to be, cause the silent tears, the ones you don’t want people to know about. Because of the feelings of guilt, the idea that missing old me makes me a bad mom. I’m calling bullshit on this trend.
Moms we have to be honest about these feelings. They are normal and they are valid. We have just been through a huge life changing event, of course we have the whole range for emotions. By pretending that everything is puppy dogs and rainbows during the fourth trimester, we are doing a disservice to ourselves and each other. It’s not reality.
I am lucky that I have a tribe of very honest girlfriends that I can commiserate with as well as bask in the joy of motherhood. However, I know not everyone is as fortunate as me. So I’m asking, please when someone asks how it was right after giving birth, be honest. The new mom that’s asking needs to hear the truth. She needs to know it’s OK to cry. It’s normal. It’s healthy.
~Krystle Blakefield
For more adventures into new motherhood, check out Krystle’s blog.
The photo was taken by the lovely Amanda of Amanda Wose Photography. To see more of the images during our morning with Krystle, hop on over to Amanda’s beautiful blog.