Just like all the other taboo topics on my blog, this one won’t be any different. With Mum shaming, Mum guilt and postnatal depression and anxiety, I’m here to talk about my postpartum journey.
Like all other first time Mums out there, I couldn’t fully comprehend the very reality of having a crying, vomiting, I-need-something-but-I-can’t-tell-you, shitting, forever-type responsibility until that human literally came out of me. Like a shock to the system. You read and hear about all of these things and you think you know, you don’t. Anyone can be a hypothetical parent but actually being one is the difference.
I remember during my pregnancy telling myself “no added pressure”, having a living baby was going to be a life changing experience on its own and I didn’t want to burdon myself with the very normal, but extra Mum guilt. I should make it clear now – I’m a proud Mum who’s baby was born via caesarean and formula fed from birth. Both by choice. Firstly, my caesarean was my safest option for delivery due to my medical history but I could have pushed for another natural birth. The safety of Aubrey & I was my primary factor in that decision. I formula fed from birth because as simply as I write this, I didn’t want to breastfeed. Pros and cons – I didn’t care. Fed is best. I still remember having to lie and tell people I couldn’t breastfeed out of fear of backlash because there really are some narrow minded people out there. Two weeks in when Aubrey started showing signs of pyloric stenosis but we were misdiagnosed I was actually told by a family member that “Aubrey was sick because she wasn’t breastfed”. There’s that first pang of Mum guilt. I was doubting myself and my decisions already because of someone else’s judgement. Something no Mother should do.
The first two weeks of Aubrey’s life and my postpartum journey were as follows: she slept in solid 3 hour blocks, Steve was home, I could still shower and eat 3 meals a day with two hands (childless people you are really taking that luxury for granted). My caesarean scar was healing nicely, my headspace was good, I was adapting to running off of little sleep but most importantly I was in love and bonding with my Daughter. My milk came in and by using cabbage leaves it disappeared, my tummy started to go down and I was overall coping. I call this stage “autopilot”.
The third week was where it started going downhill and my baby blues arrived (all those hormones rebalancing & such unlucky circumstances). Steve returned to work which I took pretty hard, I felt a lot of resentment and jealousy. How fucking unfair that he got to live fragments of his pre-baby life, have adult conversation and not tend to another humans needs like a slave (totally normal thoughts). Aubrey needed her surgery which broke me, I suffer PTSD (Post Traumatic Stress Disorder) from that experience and there are no words to describe what it’s like to see your child in that state. I was drained, haunted, exhausted and all the words in between. (Read about Aubrey’s surgery here: https://thewanderingmummy.wordpress.com/2018/06/05/my-brave-aubrey/)
My postnatal depression and anxiety stemmed from there. I was filled with fear that Aubrey’s life would be plagued by the unluckiness that followed me. She went from what I deemed a “normal” baby to a baby who screamed blue murder from the hours of 5pm-8pm every single day (witching hour – it’s a real thing). She then suffered severe colic (something I never even thought I had to look into) and unlike reflux there aren’t medications available so Aubrey would be up most of the night uncontrollably screaming in pain trying to fart or poo. She turned into a completely different Baby for me and what I failed to realize at the time was that there is no standard for a newborn. I remember dreading the sunset everyday knowing what the night ahead would entail, my life was turning into a living nightmare and I felt like I didn’t want to be someone’s Mum anymore. I remember feeling like I had to justify Aubrey’s behaviour to people due to all the judgement I was being given. “It’s probably because of her surgery, it’ll pass” was my answer to everything. Oh, there’s that Mum shaming I was worried about – everyone seemed to have an opinion or solution to these two things and their tone of voice said it all. I’m her fucking Mum, if I don’t know you sure as hell won’t! “Have you tried those droplets from the chemist?” Yes. “Have you tried holding/playing/feeding/giving the dummy to her during witching hour?” You think! “Do you do bicycle legs?” Only 500 times a day! The list goes on.
I remember feeding into that feeling and making myself feel worse by telling myself “people would kill to be in your position” and “how could you be so ungrateful?”. But as I look back now I know that you can be grateful and admit it’s hard at the same time. As Aubrey grew older my postnatal anxiety prevented me from wanting to leave the house, I had no friends eager to spend time with her or I (I put that down to my age but could also be lack of communication) and didn’t have the family support network I had envisioned. At some point I knew I was going to have to make new friends and that idea was daunting. I’m not your social butterfly – I usually don’t speak in fear of something, what that is I don’t know and I usually don’t instigate catch ups as I worry people will bail. I’m mostly known for being quiet in social surroundings (people have told me that it comes across as “bitchy”) but once you get to know me I’m hilarious (self proclaimed) and chatty. I feel that over time I’ve really put myself out there when it comes to meeting other Mums and I’m happy to give every meet up a go. I’ve made a few amazing Mum friends and I really appreciate these friendships as they extend beyond our kids. Initially it was a struggle as there are so many judgmental women out there, I was gazed upon with disapproving eyes when making Aubrey’s bottle and when asked how I got such a good day sleeper I was reluctant to tell them that I sleep trained Aubrey with the controlled crying method at 4 months old. My sanity, marriage and Aubrey’s sleep needed it and isn’t it sad that I just wrote that? I shouldn’t have to justify anything. I even remember being told by a couple of people that Aubrey shouldn’t be fed of a night past 8 weeks and at 4 months they couldn’t believe she wasn’t sleeping through, it made me feel so inadequate and not once did I ever critique their parenting. Why do people feel the need to force their opinions and their decisions down your throat? Which is why it took me so long to find Mum friends who didn’t bat an eye regardless of how differently we all raised our children.
Without that “village” everyone speaks about it really put my marriage on the back burner for awhile. Steve and I struggled to connect for months and it was mostly just arguing. Arguing because we were tired and arguing because we just wanted a dinner, a movie, a night to ourselves. I’m so lucky and thankful Steve has been an involved Dad from the very second we knew about Aubrey’s existence and so we used to take 3 hourly shifts to ensure we both got enough sleep overnight. In hindsight it was wonderful but it didn’t help in keeping us connected as Husband and Wife. We had Aubrey’s bassinet & a mattress for ourselves on the floor of our lounge room and on the dot we would switch. This happened for the first four months of Aubrey’s life. I’ve been told the first year of a baby’s life is the hardest on a couple – I can confirm that! Even though we aren’t 100% where we’d like to be, we still get a date night once or twice a month and we really savor the time together after Aubrey goes to bed. If you have the help readily available, take it – for yourself, your relationship. It will do wonders for you mentally.
Lastly, the hardest part to come to terms with and adapt to since becoming a Mother was the changing of my body. It’s hard to see others my age – in their prime with perky boobs and non-saggy belly buttons, with no excess skin and the beauty of a pre-baby body. I really took it for granted and I still spend so long trying to hide myself. People compliment me on bouncing back but they generally don’t look at me naked either. I have a new found appreciation for people who love the skin they are in, it’s a hard thing to truly accept yourself as you are when you have so many fragmented versions of beauty thrown at you.
With all that, I finally sought help for my postnatal depression and anxiety when Aubrey was about 8 months old – it really did take awhile for me to come to terms with it even with Steve’s encouragement to seek help earlier. I opted to speak with a psychologist as I felt it helped so much after our loss of Eden. I have worked so incredibly hard to create the bubble of bliss I live in now and I’m so proud of myself and this journey. Motherhood is the scariest hood you’ll ever go through and even on tough days just know you are always doing an incredible job. I only hope that I am granted the opportunity to do it again knowing all that I know now. It’s fleeting and normal to wish it away, to feel how you do or will feel but don’t leave anything to late if you need the extra support. At the end of the day we are all only human and we are all forever learning. My advice to new parents is: do what’s best for you and your child.
Some of my favourite parenting quotes, the last one being my favourite:
The Wandering Mummy 