Breaking the Silence

When I first saw my baby I was so happy. A girl, with so much black hair, and so perfect. I remember looking at every bit of her amazed at the perfection I saw. Becoming a mother. That was not as perfect as I had hoped.

I don't remember exactly when it started. It may have been when she was two days old, still wasn't eating and I had to start pumping. Or it may have been night after night of waking up constantly to have nurses manhandle my breasts and nipples to unsuccessfully feed a screaming uncooperative infant. It might have been those times when she cried not because she was hungry but for some other reason and I didn't know how to comfort her. When I was all alone in my hospital room with my sleeping baby next to me I cried. I felt trapped. What had I gotten myself into? This was a huge mistake having a baby. I wondered what I would do. I considered giving her up for adoption but then thought what a terrible person people would think I was. To intentionally get pregnant only to give that child away. I felt horribly guilty. I was convinced that I couldn't do it. I couldn't be a mother. I just wasn't cut out for it. Why hadn't anyone told me it would be this hard? It didn't get any better once I left the hospital either. Then I was even more alone. I kept crying for weeks which worried my husband and left me thinking I would never feel normal again. Why wasn't I the happy mother that everyone, including myself, expected me to be?

Now that four months have passed and I have some perspective on things I look back at that time and feel sorry for myself. I also feel angry. I am angry that none of the many books I read even tried to explain that those feelings can happen and that it is perfectly normal. I was convinced I was a bad person. I truly did have those feelings and I was not prepared in the least for them. I am also angry at every single woman I know who gave birth, most probably felt the same way and never told me! Since I began reading blogs I have found so many strangers who were willing to tell it like it is. God bless you all! I'm sure I would have sank into an even deeper depression if I hadn't found out that what I was going through was perfectly normal, at least for me. It's as though no one wants to vocalize how awful being a new mother can be for fear that the world will cease to procreate. Newsflash: That is NEVER going to happen. As if not talking about it will somehow stop it from happening.

I know, I know Brooke Shields blew open the whole postpartum depression door. But what about those of us that suffer from the less severe form of that depression? I sure as heck had more than the 'baby blues' but I didn't have thoughts of seriously hurting my daughter either. It was more of a feeling of despair, doubt and entrapment. I was afraid to tell even my mother how I was feeling. When I even hinted about it I got the distinct impression that it was really upsetting to her. Thank goodness she didn't know how I was really feeling. I lived one day at a time and as the night grew near a sense of dread would come over me. My husband just could not comprehend it. He came home from work to his sleeping infant daughter and a wife that clearly was not coping and thought “What's the big deal?” To his credit he was sweet. He knew my feelings were legitimate. That I was tired and hormonal. But how can another person really understand what is going on inside you especially when that person will never experience it first hand.

I have decided to break the silence. From now on I am telling every woman I know how bad it can (not will) be. We have all heard the most horrific labor stories haven't we? 'Oh, I had 500 stitches.' 'I was in labor for two weeks.' 'I nearly bled to death.' pardon the sarcasm and also the truth but we've heard it all in regards to labor and I say “bring it on”. I want to know. My labor experience was really great, partly because of luck and partly because I was expecting it to be unbelievably bad. I think that helped. It could never be as bad as my imagination had made it out to be. So I encourage everyone not to be afraid to tell the truth. If it was bad, say it was bad. I think people want to know. And if they don't, who cares at least they can't say 'Why didn't you tell me?'

Can you believe I thought about giving this girl up?? Talk about guilt!!