That’s right. There is a fourth trimester of pregnancy and frankly, I found it to be the most difficult period in my entire pregnancy. In my experience as a first time mom, the morning sickness and uneasiness in the first trimester; the odd cravings in the second trimester; the fatigue, nausea, frequent bathroom breaks, back pains, insomnia, heartburn in the third trimester — all these pale in comparison to the sleep deprivation, exhaustion, and above all, the mental and emotional toll of the fourth trimester.
When my son was born, I was the happiest I have ever been. Sure I was exhausted from the 20 hours of labour with over 2 hours of pushing (only to end up in a vacuum delivery); but as soon as my doctor placed my son on my chest and I heard his cry, I felt an instant burst of love, excitement and elation. All I wanted to do was hold my baby, hug him and never let him go. The next 24 hours at the hospital felt like a breeze because the doctors, nurses and residents were all caring and supportive of me; and they all attended to my and my baby’s needs. As soon as I was cleared to take my baby home, I felt even more excited because, at last, the life that I have been imagining ever since I found out that I was going to be a mom is finally here. Not having any idea about the fourth trimester, I did not know that everything was now going to be so different.
Of course I knew that it was not going to be easy. I heard the comment “you will never sleep again” multiple times when I told people that I was pregnant. In my mind, all the sleepless nights that I had when I was in school prepared me for this.
I was wrong.
Sleepless nights in school are far from sleepless nights with a newborn. But initially, I believed otherwise. So I had the expectation that I would mostly be awake and exhausted as I take care of my newborn and that I would be fine. However, besides the physical exhaustion, what was really difficult to deal with and what I was not ready to manage, was the mental and emotional anxiety postpartum brings. I did hear and read about baby blues, postpartum anxiety and postpartum depression as part of my preparation for motherhood but I always told myself that I am probably not going to end up having any of these because I am generally a happy and positive person. Fortunately, I never had issues with my mental health and I was confident that baby blues, PPA, or PPD wouldn’t hit me.
I was wrong, again.
I remember the nights when I was awake with my son as he breastfed. He stared at me with his innocent eyes and I looked at him and all I could think of was “you changed my life forever, and I don’t know if I am okay with it.” My thoughts centred around the fact that just a few days ago, I could spend so much time with my husband (watch our favorite shows on Netflix, prepare dinners together, eat together, shop for groceries together, etc.); I could read my favorite books; I could chat with my friends anytime I want; I could go out for dinner — I had time for myself and I could do the things that I wanted. I thought about how I had to put my career to a halt because now I had to take care of him. I felt like I had to live this life that was no longer for me, but for someone else. The tears would then roll down my cheeks.
And then I would feel terrible and would hate myself for having the thoughts that I was having. I would hate myself for feeling so selfish when my baby needed me the most. I would hate myself for not being excited about this life. I would hate myself for not enjoying the time with my baby when I knew I could never get that time back. My thoughts would go back and forth like this and there were nights when I would just wake my husband up, hand him our son, and tell him “take him from me because I can’t take care of him.” There was a time I did that while my baby was crying because he was so hungry. I did not want to feed him. I told my husband “give him formula if you want.” In the mornings, I would cry again and feel terrible about how I was from the night before. I would feel ever so guilty, so then I would hug my baby, apologize to him, shower him with kisses. I would not want to let him go until I broke down again at night. This continued on for weeks.
During one of my visits to a breastfeeding clinic, after checking my son the nurse turned to me and asked how I was feeling. I told here “I’m doing well” but then all of a sudden I broke down. I opened up to her about what I was really feeling and told her that every day I have thoughts that I’m not a good mom. She gave me a hug and told me everything that I was feeling is normal and that it was ok to feel that way. The hormonal imbalance after delivery had a lot to do with all the anxiety I was feeling. She said baby blues or PPA could last about 6-8 weeks postpartum. She had been doing the job for over 10 years and she had met a lot of new moms. Almost everyone goes through what I was going through and she advised me to take it easy on myself because she knew that I was doing the best job of taking care of my son. That conversation stuck with me although the anxiety continued on for several more weeks.
Now I consider myself lucky because my PPA did not turn into PPD. I think the support from my husband and my family had a lot to do with that. I also turned to support groups through an app on my phone and I constantly shared my thoughts and feelings on there. The support from that community, even if we are all strangers to each other, is so strong that it helped me navigate through my emotions much better. Moms empowering other moms. I think in those first few weeks with a newborn the most important thing is to have a very strong support system because otherwise it may lead to a very unhealthy path which could be dangerous not just for the mom but also for the baby.
Note: If baby blues or PPA lasts longer than the 6-8 week mark and the feelings (self-hate, self-pity, not feeling connected to baby, regrets) become much stronger, talk to your doctor as you might be diagnosed with PPD.
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article sponsered by Northern Michigan certified lactation consulting and Mother Hubbards Country Cupboard
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