Yes, life with a new baby brings all sorts of new and unexpected joys. But what happens when it also brings the opposite? And no, I’m not talking about the sleep deprivation. The countless diaper changes or swaddling and re-swaddling. Or the never ending cycle of Breastfeeding, pumping, washing bottles and repeat. Repeat again and again. Until you start to have sympathy for dairy cows and wish you could walk around bra-less like some African tribes still do.
I am talking about this deep, unshakeable feeling inside that something is just not right. The world I am viewing is not rose colored, but rather foggy and dim. Like you are watching a movie of your life, but you aren’t actually living it. Things you think should bring you joy don’t, and that in turn makes you feel worse.
What’s a new Mom to do?
For those of you who know me, you know I have a certain zest for life. An energy that comes from
Gone for me is this level of energy, this happy and energetic pulse for life, replaced by blah. By sheer anxiety, like I am constantly treading water with a ten pound weight in each hand and I am about to sink. Like I am stuck in quick sand while needing to nurse, email fifty people back in five minutes, do the dishes, laundry, jump on another conference call, and oh, enjoy taking my son to the park while dealing with a fussy baby.
That’s my life right now, and I hate it. I have constant anxiety to push forward and move past this fog, but I can’t. I am stuck here in a place I hate.
I want to run and hide. To go somewhere with no babies, no phones, no emails with 1,400 unread messages, no social media to keep up with or feel like I am missing out on something. What that something is, I don’t know exactly. I think it’s the old me. The me I just can’t seem to get back to.
I am never one to let any obstacle stand in my way. Bring me Everest and I will figure out a way to move it. But with this, I just can’t. Even worse, I think about the future, knowing I will look at pictures of this time and think, if I could just have this time with my baby again. What mom doesn’t want to go back in time with her child to when they were a baby? Why can’t I just be happy and enjoy this time?
It’s this feeling that I just can’t shake. Of wanting to run but being shackled in place. Of constant worry and anxiety. I’m not this person, but I am today.
I ask again, what’s a mom to do?
Post-partum is powerful. It’s something we have absolutely no control over. The usuals, working out, taking a bath, drinking some wine, watching some horrible reality, they just don’t apply right now. I don’t have the proper tools in my toolbox, because this is hormones I am dealing with. They are strong enough to create a new life, and they are strong enough to paralyze mine right now.
I’m not someone to ask for help. Right now I would rather hide out, away from the world. Friends offer to bring me coffee and take me out to lunch and I quietly ignore their calls and texts or push them off, because it just seems too hard. Sometimes just texting someone back is hard for me.
The best gift anyone can give a new Mom in need is to just show up. Come over, with coffee, pressed
As for me, I still go there a few times a week. I am tired, and exhausted. I sometimes don’t eat enough or shower, and dream of just being alone. But my hope is by sharing my journey, it might help other new moms on their journey from this very difficult place to a much lighter and happier one. If I can help you lose the shackles of sadness and depression, even just a bit, to lift your heart and turn even a tiny bit of that mouth into a smile, I will know that sharing my story has helped someone else.
It’s easy to share when we are happy, but hard to do so when we are down. Social media tends to leave out the trials and tribulations in life and focus on the amazing! Happy! Best! Moments that you must share. But I think this is one of those moments too. Motherhood has it’s intense highs and bitter, challenging lows. This is just one of them. Where I go from here I’m not sure. But I know that this too, shall pass.