I became a mom on September 28th 2014. But it didn’t feel real it felt like some one slapped a label on me and that somehow was supposed to make me qualified for this brand new identity, and I felt anything but. My friends all had baby’s and seemed to be in such better control than I was. I had an easy pregnancy, no morning sickness, no heart burn, and I was perfectly happy being pregnant and fully expected to sail into motherhood with the same ease. I had planned to deliver at a birth center, but when my water broke there was meconium in my water and suddenly I was being transferred out to a hospital. 23 hours later the life that was inside was now out and I was supposed to know what to do. Breastfeeding in the hospital made me feel inept, a well meaning nurse corrected me over and over again telling me that my son should have my entire nipple in his mouth pulling him off and making me try again and again until he was so upset that he couldn’t be calmed to latch. There I sat with a squalling newborn and leaky boobs wondering how in the hell I was going to do this. I stayed in the hospital for three days ( I didn’t have a cesarean, the extra recovery time wasn’t needed. I was just afraid to leave.) the hospital made sure I was fed, and I was somewhat anonymous. I didn’t want to see anyone I wanted my husband and me and the baby and no one else. My parents came to visit and I prayed the entire time that my baby would stay asleep so I wouldn’t have to let anyone else touch him. I was so angry that they were there bothering me, it felt intrusive, and I felt mean for not wanting them. We went home with the baby and I can hardly remember the first few weeks beyond knowing that I was a mess. I burst into tears at the mention of the baby. People would come over and I would pretend so hard that I was fine, and I was anything but. My sister knew, she came over to meet her nephew and I could tell she could see I was faking it. She seemed to sense that I was completely coming apart and she called me daily to check on me. She saved me I knew she knew, and was concerned. And I knew she would do whatever I needed to dig my way out. It was my check up with my midwife that was a wake up call. I felt fine bursting into tears at home, no one could see me there. But I when I went into the birth center to make sure I was healing the midwives asked me how I was doing and I burst into unrestrained sobs. I couldn’t stop, I couldn’t speak and I sat in the public waiting room ugly crying until they quickly escorted me into an office. I left the appointment with orders to call a counselor and they follwed up with me three time until I actulaly contacted the counselors. I emailed I couldn’t bring myself to call as just talking about it made me cry. It took me until my son was three months old for me not to burst into tears at odd moments. I would cry when strangers would ask how old my son was or how being a mom felt. ( no doubt terrifying the public and frighting several women off of motherhood.) my son is now ten months old and I feel slightly more qualified for the title of mom though I don’t know that I will ever feel like I know what I’m doing. Post partum depression is something that I didn’t expect to experience. I am so greatful to my sister who refused to let me go a day without a phone call in those early days. she told me that she loved me every time she spoke to me I don’t know that she will ever know how much it ment but I hope she knows how much I love her for it. I need to thank the nurses and midwives and mountain midwifery center they saw that I was drowning and not only threw me a life buoy but insisted that I take hold when I didn’t grab it right away. Thank you to my husband who put up with the tears and held me when I needed it, thank you for telling me I was doing a good job it meant everything to hear that. Lastly thank you to everyone who came to visit and talked with me those moments got me through the day and let me escape the loneliness I was feeling.
The first Mommy days.