Misleading clickbait title, sorry. I’ve said before that people have asked me really cautiously “So… how do you like being a mom…?” Especially when the dust settled a week or two after she was born. And I didn’t blame them – I talked mad crap on being a mom, was super scared, loved my job, am a huge control freak, love my independence, have never held a baby… the list goes on, people.
I was as surprised as you are that motherhood felt like home to me. I LOVED IT. Days spent doing nothing but diapers and nursing. Days spent walking slowly around Target while she napped. Reading blogs and taking online quizzes in a rocking chair at 2 am. Lunch dates interrupted by an aggressive blowout. I loved it so much. It was all gold.
Well, almost all gold.
I wouldn’t call it postpartum depression. I never felt sad. I never felt ennui or violent thoughts. I didn’t have, and still haven’t had a single bad thought towards Reese. Not even on those aggressive blowouts, of which there have been several. I always felt excited for the day and like I could do anything I wanted. If I laid in bed for hours a day it was to cuddle Reese and watch the Office, definitely not because I was depressed or helpless or out of it.
I have been genuinely happy. Honestly the amount of happy has caused my Postpartum Crazy, I think. I mean, I’m not a doctor and I haven’t been diagnosed. Postpartum Depression is REAL. Be super careful and compassionate with new moms – help them. Because it’s real and it’s scary. I am by no means making light of it. I have been very fortunate to avoid it.
You know in The Grinch when his heart grows super big super fast? I feel like that happened to me. And it probably happens to all new moms. All of a sudden my whole heart and my whole brain and my whole body was CONSUMED with love. I thought I loved The Beard. I thought I loved Glen Coco. I thought I loved Diet Coke. When they say you can’t even imagine… you guys? They mean it. All day long I was just SO HAPPY. SO IN LOVE WITH MY PERFECT BABY. SO PUMPED FOR ANOTHER DAY OF CUDDLES AND NAPS AND SMILES AND UNLIMITED SNAPCHATSSSSSSSSSS!
At the end of the day I would snuggle that adorable baby, all lotioned up and giving me those sleepy smiles. Then I would kiss her little cheeks, whisper that I love her, kiss her cheeks no more than 14 more times, and then lay her down for her champion 8-12 hour nights (with a dream/sleepfeed in the middle, don’t hate me).
And then I was free to settle in for a night of nervous stressing, ridiculous waking nightmares, tossing-and-turning, anxiety-ridden sleep and laying wide awake, staring at the ceiling.
Oh the irony that my newborn baby could sleep through the night, but I couldn’t. Sometimes I’d yawn, or complain of a headache or say I wanted a nap and people would nod like “Oh yes. Babies. Sleep. Much Tired.” But how do you say “Oh, no, actually I just laid awake with my heart pounding until 3 am because I thought about Reese getting cancer.” or “I woke up sweating from a dream where a stranger turned around and they were holding my baby.” or “Oh nope I just read a news article about that Boston Baby Doe found in a trash bag and couldn’t stop crying for 2 hours.”
But, like, stupid stuff you guys. I am really afraid of heights so I’d get this terrifying waking nightmare that I would drop Reese off Angel’s Landing. I would never in a thousand years want to hurt my child, and feel almost as strongly about avoiding Angel’s Landing, with or without her. So why in the world would my brain invent that? I was both scared of heights and scared of dropping Reese and scared of my own brain for thinking it. Is something wrong with me? Am I crazy?
I could keep going with more examples but I’m certain you WOULD think I’m crazy. I am kind of afraid to even post this, for fear someone will think I’m an unfit mother or insane or mentally weak. I don’t think I am any of those things.
When we woke up in the morning and I got that chunky, cooing bb in my arms I was good. And I’d be great all day. Losing her, neglecting her, bad things happening to her in general – didn’t cross my mind. It was just heart-eyed emojis and Cafe Rio and Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt and the best baby in the United States of America. Life was good.
It was almost like it’s TOO good. This amount of happiness feels illegal and impossible. I think the rational, worst-case-scenario, critical side of my brain was trying so hard to shout “THERE’S NO WAY THIS CAN LAST, DANICA. You don’t deserve a baby this good. You don’t deserve a situation this perfect. It’s too good to be true, and won’t last forever.” I was able to avoid this voice all day long, until I was alone and quiet and undistracted at night. After 3 particularly bad nights in a row of very little sleep and very much anxiety, I was on my knees praying to my Heavenly Father. I gotta fix this. I gotta figure this out. And the answer came in many different ways
+ Tylenol PM and daily exercise helped me fall asleep and sleep better
+ Listening to rainstorm sounds as I fell asleep helped me sort of meditate and keep my brain from going anywhere scary as I laid awake
+ My mom, best friend, and other friends chimed in when I needed them most to reassure me that this was normal; it’s ok and doesn’t mean I’m crazy.
+ Brene Brown’s book “Daring Greatly.” Amazing. Basically she says that scary things are good for us. Shutting down and avoidance behavior also shuts down and avoids the beautiful and happy things in our lives.
Finally my heart reached acceptable elasticity levels. Love is beautiful and scary. Bringing a child into this world is a risk. Reese is the weirdest anomaly of a perfect baby, sure, but I DO deserve to be happy and enjoy her. Because, yeah, Mean Danica Brain, this WON’T last forever. And that’s ok. I accept it now. I just want to be grateful for every single delicious moment of my life these days, because all the stressing gets me is insomnia.
I’m fine. I always have been. This wasn’t a huge deal, and it really didn’t affect me during the day or with Reese at all (besides being a little sleepy) and now it’s almost completely gone. But there were a few scary nights all alone at 4 am, so I guess I just wanted you to know:
Yes, my baby really is that perfect. No, I don’t know how I got so lucky. But yeah, there’s always a little more behind the scenes. And it’s ok if you get a little weird after baby comes. Our hearts just go through some growing pains to make room for this amazing, colorful, major league love.
And I’m not crazy, you guys. I’m not. I’M NOT.
7 thoughts on “Postpartum Crazy”
I like that analogy about the Grinch. It’s so true that your heart does grow waaaay too fast and its a whirlwind. I think the fact that we focus on PPD meaning just crying all the time or wanting to hurt our babies, means that we forget about the ways it affects others. Like with me, sure I was sad and crying in the beginning (but I cry all the time…so…), but then I was MAD. FURIOUS. wanting to throw things across the room. And the rest of the time I sat in silence with thoughts racing across my mind about everything that could possibly go wrong. I wasn’t scared that something would happen to my kids, but I was constantly in fear someone was going to verbally attack me about everything I was doing wrong (we were living in a weird situation with my grandma). And mine was opposite – the only relief i got was falling asleep at night. But we forget that our hormones affect us all in personal and weird ways, and just because it doesn’t fit the mold doesn’t mean its not real and hard to get in check. Meditation is the only thing that did it for me! Training my brain how to focus on mantras and scriptures when those thoughts started creeping in. I’m glad that its gotten easier for you and that you didn’t just resign to always feeling like that. Reese is so luck to have you for a mom! 🙂
Daring Greatly has been life changing for me! I thought I was outsmarting the system by just expecting the worse to happen, planning my life accordingly, then being pleasantly surprised when the worst didn’t happen. Kinda burst my bubble realizing that’s not an effective coping method!
No, you’re not crazy. Not in the least bit. Like you said, there’s so much going on behind the scenes and the experience of becoming a mom (whether it’s their first or eighth kid) affects everyone differently. Hormones are such tricky little beasts which is why it’s so important to treat all moms kindly!
i just started listening to that book this morning – and if i know anything about brene, i have something REEEAL good coming 🙂 thanks for sharing this, and thanks for being brave enough to be real. sometimes striking a balance between being honest and being grateful for having a KICK ASS life is hard. i think you do it pretty flawlessly.
It happens! You’re not crazy! I had a friend say she needed help getting over insomnia, so I suggested some things. Next thing she says is what really keeps her up at night is the constant fear of someone abducting her child! I feel like that’s a whole different scale of insomnia! I suggested she see a therapist, because I have no idea how to change your mind from thinking in that way, and I don’t know how she’s coping with it now, but I’m glad you found some ways to help yourself. 🙂
I had my son 4 days ago and my experience has been exactly like yours. It’s been blissful and indescribably beautiful, but I still find myself losing sleep at night worrying while the baby is sleeping perfectly fine right next to me.
After having Rhys, well, while pregnant with Rhys, anything having to do with babies, or families, or parents and children just made me bawl my eyes out. I had mommy feels like no other! Now, I have always suffered from anxiety, but after having Rhys, it got worse–I was so worried about everything: is he sleeping enough, is he gaining enough weight, why isn’t he growing fast, am I producing enough milk, why hasn’t he hit this milestone yet, is he too hot or too cold, is he teething, why is he sick, did I get him sick from junior high student germs, why can’t I calm him down, why can’t I understand his cries, am I a bad mom for working and liking it? The list went on and on. I mean, I didn’t even sleep AT ALL for the first three days of his life because I was so sure that if I did, Rhys would die of SIDS. This anxiety caused me to fall into a depression and was one of the reasons I quit teaching, so I could focus on my mental health. But, it is totally normal. My mom told me she still has nightmares about her children, and we are all grown up. It is just part of the bond of a mother and a child because we love them so deeply.
Oh my goodness I can so relate to this. I have a tendency to prepare for worst when good things happen and my daughter was the best thing ever so I really struggledon’t with constant worry. And yes to the Grinch analogy. I’ve said that it happens so fast and the love continues to grow, and I still can’t catch my breath. I do kinda hate you for your champion sleeper, though. 🙂