Wordless Wednesday

Maternity Leave is Officially Over

Well, my maternity leave was up on January 27. However, our household came down with several illnesses (RSV, bronchitis, and the Flu), so my bosses let me work from home until we were all on the mend. I returned to the office at the beginning of February, and during one of my first weeks back, we got snow. I'd like to think God was giving me a little welcome back of his own.  

 

This transition has been rough. Breastfeeding timing, getting ready in the morning, and then having to navigate drop-offs and pick-ups for both kiddos has been a huge learning curve. Most days, I’m running behind. I’m barely getting Emery to school as the bell is ringing. My son hates the car seat, so the drive to his sitter’s house is usually filled with tears. And I’m sliding into my office about 5-10 minutes after I’m supposed to be there. That said, we had a male employee who welcomed a child a week after we did, and he was able to change his working hours to 9 AM - 3 PM. So, they better give me grace for those 5-10 minutes because I’m trying. My daughter’s extracurricular activities and practices have also been interesting to navigate. And I’ve had to resort to asking for help from other moms a handful of times.

Bedtime routines are there(ish), but the quality of sleep is not. For me, anyway. The time change (which I love) has brought even more challenges (which I don’t love). Since we co-sleep, my husband was originally camping out on the couch. But that’s not the most comfortable, so getting a full 8 hours for him was a challenge. He’s now back in our bed, so we are learning to navigate the bedsharing situation. That said, I am up at 12, 2, 4, and 6 AM. Like clockwork. Sometimes, I get up in between those times because of all the grunting and scootching that my son is doing. However, I’m averaging between 6.5 and 7 hours each night. It’s not good sleep, but it’s sleep, so that’s a win.

Work has also felt different for me. I like having a routine, being around other adults, and being productive outside of my home life. But, where once I was so focused on the “next steps” and “new challenges” in my career, these days I’m just ready to be home with my family. I was already leaning in that direction before maternity leave, but having a baby kicked that shift into high gear. Any drama that’s taking place, I stay out of. When I’m allowed to work from home or leave early, I do. I’m not super concerned with climbing higher on the ladder. Maybe one day I’ll get back to that, but not right now. Instead, I’m finding ways to do my job better and hopefully negotiate a higher salary once reviews take place in June. Because honestly, a job is a paycheck. While we NEED money to pay bills and buy food. I can always find another job. And I am completely replaceable here. The show will go on without me. So, my home life is what’s most important to me. Spending time with my family and kids is what I value most.

All of this is to say that things are chugging along. I’ve got a few things down and some other kinks to work out. Our new family dynamic is a work in progress. I deal with “working mom’s guilt” more often than not. My marriage sometimes feels strained, like we’re prioritizing everything else before each other. But then, Corey and I will hold hands before bed, and it’s a gentle reminder that we’re still in it. At the end of the day, my house is a mess, the laundry is piled up, and I’m exhausted. But my family is happy and healthy. We have food on the table and a roof over our heads. Listening to my daughter sing to her baby brother stirs so much love in my heart. Being present for her and him in the short amount of hours in the day I get with them is super important to me. And I keep telling myself that this is just a season. Before we know it, we’ll blink, and it’ll be gone.

Postpartum

We were home, and I was exhausted. My milk supply was not coming in. I was feeding every hour on the hour. I didn’t want to leave the house. My son was not pooping. He was spitting up almost everything that I gave him. He would only sleep if he were held. And I couldn’t sleep out of fear that something would happen. My anxiety had me on such an edge that I was averaging 2.5 hours of sleep each day (according to my watch). I cried over everything. Everything. And this went on for about two weeks before I had a breakdown.

Now, I knew after the first few days that I had the baby blues and postpartum anxiety. But I didn’t realize how bad it was until one night, I sat crying about not producing enough milk while my son cried out in frustration - yanking on my nipple. He hadn’t pooped yet, and he would strain so much. I was concerned that something was wrong. I hadn’t showered in several days, I wasn’t getting any sleep, my nipples were cracked, and it was so painful every time my son would latch. My husband insisted that I pump, but barely anything was coming out. And I just lost it in front of everyone. That’s when my husband, mom, and stepmother-in-law came up with a plan to take shifts. My husband told me to go to bed, and they would wake me up when I needed to pump so they could feed him. That night, I got some much-needed rest. And while I felt better the next day, I knew our routine was unsustainable.

 

Eventually, I went to see my doctor. While they prescribed some medication, I decided to try a few other things first to see if they would help. So, we went outside. I forced myself to make more trips into town. I asked for help so I could do a few things around the house and shower at least every three days. I started breathing through my anxiety - long, deep breaths. By week 3, the baby blues had passed, and by week 8, my anxiety had significantly decreased. Also, at the recommendation of several family members, I started researching safe co-sleeping. This isn’t for everyone, and that’s okay. I had co-slept with Emery, but I was completely oblivious to safe co-sleeping practices back then. This time, I was much older and exhausted. And I was dealing with severe anxiety, so I was scared to even think about cosleeping. However, after reading up on safe co-sleeping and bedsharing, I felt comfortable enough to give it a go. And let me just say that once we began co-sleeping, I started getting more sleep. We both did. I went from getting 4 hours a night to 6 hours in the form of two 3-hour stretches. Again, this isn’t for everyone.

Things have gotten better. I can function on the sleep I’m getting now. The minor health issues that little man has are things that he’ll outgrow. And we’re slowly adapting to our new family dynamic. While I had been totally prepared for the physical part of postpartum, the emotional and mental parts had completely taken me by surprise. I was ready for the bleeding and wobbling around. I was prepared for the fluctuation in hormone levels and the breastfeeding pain. But I was not prepared for the depression, anxiety, and tears. I was not prepared for the emotional breakdown that came with sleep deprivation. I honestly felt like I was losing my mind. And I was not prepared for the feeling of loneliness that seemed all-consuming. This postpartum was a completely different experience from when I had my daughter. Now that we’re three months in, I look back at that time with sadness. My anxiety really robbed me of being able to enjoy those first two weeks of “newborn bliss”. And I feel like I robbed my son of having a calm and peaceful introduction to the world. Instead, he got the mom, who was filled with anxiety, exhaustion, and panic.