I am hoping that by posting this, I get some kind of relief. And if Dooce can do it, maybe I can too.
Everyone says how wonderful these first few weeks are – well, some people say that at least. And I’m sure that it’s true for them. For me, not so much. And that’s probably the last little bit of humor you’ll get from me in this post.
Just like I experienced after Zander’s birth, I have the most intense anxiety and emotions that I have ever had in my life. Coupled with an inability to sleep, they are far beyond what is considered normal post-birth. We know that. Last time, I muscled it out for six weeks until my first postpartum checkup when my OB said something along the lines of, “This isn’t just the baby blues. You need help.” This time, we took precautions and I started medication the day after Cassie was born. And it can’t kick in fast enough. Thing is, it hasn’t yet. Or maybe it has and life would be so much harder without it.
And it’s a misnomer to say that “*I* muscled through it,” because Brad was right there by my side, just as he is this time, doing everything humanly possible to help. He’s here with me, home from work, up at night, changing diapers, guiding me on the best latch, carrying Cassie in a Moby Wrap, and taking care of Zander at the same time. So, basically he’s doing triple duty – Cassie, Zander, and me.
Overall, things should be great. The labor and birth, although not exactly what I would have wanted, went relatively well. We have a full-term, healthy baby who is thriving. In fact, she had her first check-up and is gaining weight nicely. Lots of wet and dirty diapers, etc. (For those of you who read this blog and do not have children, those are one of a handful of ways that you can tell a new baby is thriving. It’s not that I have penchant for reporting TMI here. Not at all.)
So there you have it. I sit here with this beautiful, sleeping baby wrapped up close to me and I just can’t stop crying and worrying and most of all, I can’t sleep.