We just got back from seeing Jen, Jules and Ethan. The kids played well, Ethan slept, and Jen and I got to relax and chat a bit.
I just can’t get over how well she’s doing. And Ethan is SUCH a good baby. I think back about how I felt when Liam was 10 days old and I’m pretty sure I could have thrown him - and anyone else who showed up at my door - out the window.
I was looking back at the pictures, and I’m sure we had some good times those first few months, but that’s not what I remember, unlike many people I’ve talked to who seem to have either blocked those terrible moments - or perhaps never had them, the lucky shits. Regardless of how it was for anyone else, it was an absolutely awful experience for me and I do NOT remember it fondly.
Liam was just not a happy baby. He cried a lot of the time and wouldn’t sleep. Then when he finally did sleep, he’d wake himself up by scratching his face. And when he wasn’t crying or tightly swaddled sleeping, he was nursing - for 45 minutes at a time every two hours, which he loved to do. Ironically, over time we figured out that nursing was part of the problem. The kid couldn’t handle my healthy diet. He was lactose intolerant. Green leafy vegetable intolerant. Acidic food intolerant. And occasionally wheat intolerant.
So I ate cookies, white bread, chicken, pasta without any sauce, peas, white bread, corn, white bread, potatoes, and hamburger. Oh, and did I mention white bread?
I had never felt so trapped. I expected my life to change drastically - and I even expected a “particular” child - but I didn’t expect to feel so angry at everyone. And THEN, I couldn’t eat what I wanted. I wasn’t getting enough sleep. And I wasn’t getting any “me” time - how could I with a kid at my boob or in the sling at all times? And god knows I didn’t want anyone to come and help me. I just wanted to be left alone.
There were even a couple of times that I went into the basement and screamed and threw laundry detergent bottles at the walls. And, as much as I abhor admitting it, I did scream loud enough on several occasions to bring Macey running to check to make sure I wasn’t slaughtering her baby brother.
Additionally, I don’t think I was able to feel the unconditional love that everyone talks about in those first few weeks. I did what I did because he needed me to, but the phrase “I love you, but…” became a staple in our household, even if I didn’t always say it out loud. The “buts” were things like “but I can’t live like this,” “but I have to get some sleep sometime,” “but I can’t fix it if I don’t know what’s wrong with you,” and “but I need a break.â€
The first four months of Liam’s life were the most difficult that I’ve ever experienced - and, honestly, the next 10 weren’t cake either. I never wished I hadn’t had him, but there were certainly times that I wished I had a happy baby.
The hardest part of it for me was that none of my friends with babies could really empathize - and I am SO glad that they couldn’t, but it made it all the more difficult at the time.
Looking back now, I know my anger was brought on by my preexisting anxiety and depression, and worsened by the post-partum aspects of it. Naturally, I was nervous about being a first-time mom, but more importantly, I was an un-medicated first-time mom - who OBVIOUSLY should have been allowed to remain on her medication.
I look at us now and I can’t believe that he was that baby and I was that mother. He sleeps, eats, and plays well by himself. He is a FANTASTIC child. And I am a much more relaxed mother, wife, and friend, even if I am a few pounds heavier thanks to the meds. (GRRRRR)
But the best part is, I can’t remember the last time I raised my voice in anger, much less threw things while screaming. And I love him more than I ever imagined possible – unconditionally.
To be certain, I am not wearing rose-colored glasses when it comes to AxLita. I fully expect this time around to be as bad or worse. But I’ve done it before. And I know I can get through it - Liam is proof. So no matter what happens with AL, I am positive that I will be a calmer, less freaky mom.
And I’m so thankful for the reasons I can be that way - chemicals and all.
