I cried a bit when I found out I was pregnant again. Not because I was sad but because I was scared. In my eyes, I had such a traumatic experience with my delivery and recovering from Baby #1. I read my Birth story before I wrote this and I'm shocked at how much I actually forgot. What is still fresh in my mind is the C-Section, problems with breastfeeding, my scar ripping open a few days in, and the emotional struggle of the every day life with a newborn. This is what I held on to. Not the beautiful moment they announced we were having a boy or the waves of happy family and friends coming to visit, but my emotional breakdown.
Sleep deprivation is a bitch but I know what I felt was much more than that. I believe it was more than baby blues because it got so bad that it almost ruined my marriage. My hormonal rages and the need to control everything and judge my husband's every move lead to 2 years of hell. I didn't want my family near me and I withdrew from friends because "no one understood." The holidays followed the birth of Joaquin and I hated every moment, every party, every day I had to step out of the house. I said what I felt like I was supposed to say to everyone around me. I'm so in love with my new son. I love every moment. It's so amazing. I am so happy. It was all so confusing.
And then there was breastfeeding. The pain. Oh the PAIN! The struggle. The feeling of having to do it outside of my home. The anxiety of that new lifestyle change. There was no bonding. There was no joy. What the hell was wrong with me? The thought of giving Joaquin formula made me feel like the worst mom in the world. To make matters worse... I was a cow. I could pump 10 ounces in a 15 minute pump session. It was insane. I was able to stock so much but then, I got thrush and the doctor ordered me to throw that golden liquid in the trash. That's when I threw in the towel.
But, I still had this baby. This new life to take care of for the rest of MY life. It took me a very long time to wrap my brain about that. I am just now feeling comfortable as a mom. That's all thanks to my supportive husband and family and all of the moms, new and old, who told me their struggles and didn't lie to me and tell me that motherhood is all french fries and chocolate.
That's my favorite, when moms tell me that they hated breastfeeding too or when they tell me they ate out almost every day this week because they were too tired to cook or that they accidentally dropped their baby from the couch or that they failed at something. Sounds cynical that THAT is my favorite but it helps me see that I'm not alone. I'm not crazy...well...that's still debatable, I guess.
So, what do I do now? I plan. I prep. I get ready for my hormonal battle once again. I'll be talking about what I'm doing now and what I plan to do then on my next post. Have a great rest of the week everyone!