The Low Down on the Baby Blues

Now that I am fairly certain that my case of the Baby Blues is gone, I think I'll go ahead and write about it.  First of all, I can completely understand those news stories we hear about new mothers going AWOL for days after they give birth.  Hormones are a fascinating, but very confusing, biological compound.

When we got home from the hospital on Friday, I was doing alright.  A few tears of joy, but nothing overwhelming yet.  Saturday was a different story.  I began to feel incredibly anxious.  I was afraid I was never ever going to get sleep; afraid that this whole parenting thing was a huge mistake; wondering what the hell I had gotten myself into, etc.  On top of all that, my milk hadn't come in yet, and Weston was feeding constantly.  He wouldn't sleep that well, either, mostly because it seemed as though he just wanted to nurse.  I began to feel totally batty, like I was trapped in our tiny apartment and my life was going to amount to having a baby tethered to me at all times.

Weston had finally fallen asleep mid-afternoon that Saturday, and as I was lying there in bed trying to sleep, I was overcome with tremendous anxiety about never being able to fall asleep.  My mind was literally spinning.  What a horrible place to be in!  After a 32 hour labor with only a two hour nap in there somewhere on Wednesday, I was very, very sleep deprived (as are all new mothers).  I called to Nate, who came in the bedroom, and I started crying uncontrollably.  I said that this was too hard, that I was never going to sleep again, that this was a mistake, and that I was going crazy.  He promptly got my pink flip-flops, put a hoodie on me, and sent me outside with my phone to go take a walk around the neighborhood and then call my mom.

Just like Crazy Cat Lady, but minus the cats

Outside I went, feeling like one of those psychotic ladies that roam the streets, inappropriately dressed and muttering to themselves.  The fresh air did help, and the phone call to my mom instantly helped me feel better, mostly because she related to me her struggles with her first baby.  She told me that she cried in the hospital and didn't want to take my older brother home.

That Saturday was the worst day.  For about the next two weeks, I struggled with these feelings of anxiety, even though every woman I talked to said that it passes.  I had a hard time believing that at first, but it did get better every day, even if it was only just a little.  The hardest part was in the evening, when the day was drawing to an end.  I don't know if that's because I reflected on my day and realized I hadn't accomplished anything other than feeding the baby, changing diapers, feeding myself, and not much else.  It was made worse if I hadn't left the house, so I have made it a point to get out of the house everyday, with or without the baby.

Visitors helped my mood.  I very much looked forward to having my mom come by, and I was super excited when my sister came, even though I cried every day she was here...  I also know that I need to sleep when the baby sleeps.  Of course, I can't sleep every time he's sleeping, but I try to get in at least one good nap during the day when he's napping.

The baby blues do pass.  I felt as though they were never going to go away and that I was the only mom in the world to feel the way I was feeling.  Talking to other women about it helped to lessen their strength, and I'm grateful for all those women who shared their experiences with me.