Goodbye, Newborn...
Baby Boy is 6 weeks old.
I've survived another newborn phase! And every single one of us managed to get sick in the course of it.
After getting through the newborn stage with my first baby, if you had told me I would go on to do that two more times, I would have laughed hysterically and said, "Yeah, right!"
.....and would probably have punched you in the kidneys.
It feels like such an achievement, as well as the fact that I'm still exclusively breastfeeding this little guy. I was well onto bottles with both girls by this stage as they were terrible feeders. Every feed was excruciating from start to finish. Every feed. Every day. The anxiety built up every time they needed a feed. I just couldn't do it anymore. Especially not with the mental state I was in. My husband needed a sane wife (ha! He really drew the short straw there). So, it really feels great that it's a success this time!
But, again, the elusive joy of the newborn days has escaped me. Again, it was survival and nothing more. Sure, he's cute. But I just couldn't really appreciate it all that much. All the cutesy stuff was just not a priority. When I looked at him, I saw a beautiful little human being. Did I love him straight away? You bet I did. But, if I'm completely honest, the connection took a while to build.
With my first baby, there was no bond for the first couple of months. I was disinterested and numb. It wasn't how I thought and hoped it would be. But the PND was there from the moment I gave birth. There was this baby lying on my chest and I just felt nothing. Nothing. I didn't talk to her. I knew something was wrong but I didn't know what. She was my first and I didn't know what was normal. I've struggled with the guilt of that over the years. We did go on to establish a wonderful and very special bond once I got onto medication. But I wasn't the mother she deserved in those first 8 weeks. I know in my mind that I couldn't have controlled what happened to me. I know she won't remember. But, my heart still aches for her. With my second baby, I bonded really well with her straight away. I think the medical issues she had at the start really made my Mama heart bleed and I just felt the need to comfort her as she cried through the various uncomfortable tests done at the hospital. This time, it's been somewhere in the middle. But, I definitely feel like Baby Boy and I are on track and getting to know and enjoy each other more and more.
Still, the anxiety sneaks up on me. It appears at all the times I expect it to - in the evenings, when Baby boy won't stop crying, when he doesn't want to have his naps, when I'm at home by myself with all three kids... But, it also crops up when I least expect it. When there seems to be no reason for it. It's just this state that I'm in and I can't even explain why. This week I've had my PND medication increased. The previous dose was helping with my sleep and bringing back my appetite, but it wasn't really dealing with my depression and anxiety. I do SO appreciate the help it's given me up to this point. I haven't forgotten how fast things unraveled when I couldn't sleep at all.
I'd really like to function properly again. Not just survive, but enjoy life. I want motivation. I want joy. I want to have the energy to spend quality time with my girls.
And on that note, my Big Girl has turned 5 and is starting school soon. I'm feeling a lot of guilt over the quality time she missed out on not just during her first couple of months, but the first year of her little sister's life too. It took me a year to start coming out of the fog of PND. I've found myself feeling sad over all the missed opportunities. All the things I thought we would do together but never did. And now she's about to go to school and I'll never have those first 5 years back again. I wish I could turn back time. What have I even been doing these last five years?! It all feels like a blur.
I don't think any arrangement of words could really express how I'm feeling. I just don't have the words and I'm not sure they even exist. Sometimes I'm feeling ok, and other times 'blah' sums it up pretty much. I try not to dwell on it too much. When I haven't let myself 'go there' for a while and the subject comes up (even a simple, "How are you?" from someone who knows my journey), I feel myself suddenly tearing up and I have to try hard to stay composed. I feel like a dam that's about to burst. It's not always a bad thing. There is a time to focus on other things, and there is a time to reflect, process, and let it all out. I discovered logic puzzles at the back of a magazine and love the intellectual stimulation (LOL I first spelled 'intellectual' wrong there - thanks spell check) so much that I bought myself a whole book full of them online! They've been great for distracting my crazy mind while feeding Baby Boy and allowing myself a chance to use my brain for something that's not kid-related.
Whenever I feel like I've hit rock bottom and nothing is cheering me up, I hang onto the simple fact that Jesus died for me. He loves me so incredibly much. He will never desert me and he knows, more than I do, what I'm going through. He knows of every thought and every emotion that passes through me. He sees the mess and he knows my heart. None of it escapes him. He understands suffering. After all, he became like one of us, faced all sorts of trials here on earth, including much heartache, before being tortured and crucified. He knows and understands.
If you ever feel like no one gets it, like no one knows what it's like to feel the pain that you do - Jesus does. He is waiting for you to come to him so he can help you carry your burdens. You were never meant to face anything alone xx
I've survived another newborn phase! And every single one of us managed to get sick in the course of it.
After getting through the newborn stage with my first baby, if you had told me I would go on to do that two more times, I would have laughed hysterically and said, "Yeah, right!"
.....and would probably have punched you in the kidneys.
It feels like such an achievement, as well as the fact that I'm still exclusively breastfeeding this little guy. I was well onto bottles with both girls by this stage as they were terrible feeders. Every feed was excruciating from start to finish. Every feed. Every day. The anxiety built up every time they needed a feed. I just couldn't do it anymore. Especially not with the mental state I was in. My husband needed a sane wife (ha! He really drew the short straw there). So, it really feels great that it's a success this time!
But, again, the elusive joy of the newborn days has escaped me. Again, it was survival and nothing more. Sure, he's cute. But I just couldn't really appreciate it all that much. All the cutesy stuff was just not a priority. When I looked at him, I saw a beautiful little human being. Did I love him straight away? You bet I did. But, if I'm completely honest, the connection took a while to build.
With my first baby, there was no bond for the first couple of months. I was disinterested and numb. It wasn't how I thought and hoped it would be. But the PND was there from the moment I gave birth. There was this baby lying on my chest and I just felt nothing. Nothing. I didn't talk to her. I knew something was wrong but I didn't know what. She was my first and I didn't know what was normal. I've struggled with the guilt of that over the years. We did go on to establish a wonderful and very special bond once I got onto medication. But I wasn't the mother she deserved in those first 8 weeks. I know in my mind that I couldn't have controlled what happened to me. I know she won't remember. But, my heart still aches for her. With my second baby, I bonded really well with her straight away. I think the medical issues she had at the start really made my Mama heart bleed and I just felt the need to comfort her as she cried through the various uncomfortable tests done at the hospital. This time, it's been somewhere in the middle. But, I definitely feel like Baby Boy and I are on track and getting to know and enjoy each other more and more.
Still, the anxiety sneaks up on me. It appears at all the times I expect it to - in the evenings, when Baby boy won't stop crying, when he doesn't want to have his naps, when I'm at home by myself with all three kids... But, it also crops up when I least expect it. When there seems to be no reason for it. It's just this state that I'm in and I can't even explain why. This week I've had my PND medication increased. The previous dose was helping with my sleep and bringing back my appetite, but it wasn't really dealing with my depression and anxiety. I do SO appreciate the help it's given me up to this point. I haven't forgotten how fast things unraveled when I couldn't sleep at all.
I'd really like to function properly again. Not just survive, but enjoy life. I want motivation. I want joy. I want to have the energy to spend quality time with my girls.
And on that note, my Big Girl has turned 5 and is starting school soon. I'm feeling a lot of guilt over the quality time she missed out on not just during her first couple of months, but the first year of her little sister's life too. It took me a year to start coming out of the fog of PND. I've found myself feeling sad over all the missed opportunities. All the things I thought we would do together but never did. And now she's about to go to school and I'll never have those first 5 years back again. I wish I could turn back time. What have I even been doing these last five years?! It all feels like a blur.
I don't think any arrangement of words could really express how I'm feeling. I just don't have the words and I'm not sure they even exist. Sometimes I'm feeling ok, and other times 'blah' sums it up pretty much. I try not to dwell on it too much. When I haven't let myself 'go there' for a while and the subject comes up (even a simple, "How are you?" from someone who knows my journey), I feel myself suddenly tearing up and I have to try hard to stay composed. I feel like a dam that's about to burst. It's not always a bad thing. There is a time to focus on other things, and there is a time to reflect, process, and let it all out. I discovered logic puzzles at the back of a magazine and love the intellectual stimulation (LOL I first spelled 'intellectual' wrong there - thanks spell check) so much that I bought myself a whole book full of them online! They've been great for distracting my crazy mind while feeding Baby Boy and allowing myself a chance to use my brain for something that's not kid-related.
Whenever I feel like I've hit rock bottom and nothing is cheering me up, I hang onto the simple fact that Jesus died for me. He loves me so incredibly much. He will never desert me and he knows, more than I do, what I'm going through. He knows of every thought and every emotion that passes through me. He sees the mess and he knows my heart. None of it escapes him. He understands suffering. After all, he became like one of us, faced all sorts of trials here on earth, including much heartache, before being tortured and crucified. He knows and understands.
If you ever feel like no one gets it, like no one knows what it's like to feel the pain that you do - Jesus does. He is waiting for you to come to him so he can help you carry your burdens. You were never meant to face anything alone xx
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