This post needs to start by saying I love my husband with the deepest most passionate kind of love. He has moved mountains for me and has the kindest soul of anyone I have ever known. This remains true even now, after the birth of our son, although I'm sure I don't make it easy to love me in return these days.
This is a classic case of having expectations of someone and holding them to these expectation but never telling them your expectation then getting raging mad when they don't meet your expectations. Its also a case of having no idea what you're doing but being too prideful to ask for help. Just incase you weren't aware, men do not give birth. It is for this reason they have and never will have even the slightest clue what we go through. For them the experience is undoubtably intense, but that intensity fades and they are able to go back to their life as it was for the most part. (This is not true for all men I know, excuse the generalization.) We are left with a body we do not recognize, a soreness that cannot be explained politely, are thrust into a new life weather we like it or not, and have to navigate every single detail of it whilst in pain. Sleep has now become a distant memory too painful to think about and our brains have been compromised. Thank heavens for instinct because I didn't even know my name the first week without checking my I.D. For breastfeeding mothers we are up every couple of hours, day and night with crying babies who sometimes want to make life more difficult by pulling away and screaming while feeding. There is no break, day off or rest period. "Sleeping in" a cruel phrase never to be used around a new mother and never uttered from a husbands lips. In all honesty, it's the sleep deprivation coupled with husbands ability to leave the house unhindered. I've actually started to view my husbands job as an opportunity for him to have "me time" which is outrageous as he works construction and picks up side jobs roofing on weekends! But the fact that he can sleep longer and better then me, can leave to house without having to ensure the safety of a tiny human let alone lug one around and can return home to take long hot showers everyday makes me hate him just a little. I was warned about this phase of early motherhood where I might enter into the dangerous territory of feeling resentment toward Tony but thought our love is so strong and he is so great that it won't be an issue for me. (Rolling eyes is totally appropriate!) I want to punch him in the face at night when he starts snoring as soon as he closes his eyes. Our baby can still be fussing and whining and already I can hear Tonys breath get slower and deeper and then the snoring starts! Are you for real! As mothers, our sleep is always light. Basically we sleep with one eye open and both ears on stand by. It's jealousy really, jealous that they can tune out and turn off. Jealous that at night on the couch they can fall asleep since they don't have a child sucking on their nipples. Jealous that they can sleep all night and not have to get up for midnight nipple torture. To add to this frustration I would love nothing more then to have an hour of uninterrupted time where I am not being "needed". An hour of space to breath deeply, an hour to attempt getting my pre-baby body back, an hour of time to knit or write, or even an hour of time to sit in a quite room and cry. Not because I'm sad but just to release. Release the overwhelming emotions that come with being a new mom and being so immensely in love while simultaneously feeling out of control. The need for even the smallest amount of time to oneself is another area often misunderstood by our partners. They get home from work tired too and still have to perform as it were, and often view our need to get away momentarily as either selfish or lazy, and opportunity to update Facebook, watch TV or pick our noses. Not the case at all. As an introvert this time is where I am able to regroup and reenergize. Even though our little cub is sleeping longer periods through the night, I am not energized. Another area of motherhood no-one warns you about. In short, one can love their partners more then words could ever express but as soon as a crying baby, sleep deprivation and zero personal space or time comes into play, some serious feelings of anger, jealously and resentment start to rear their heads. I am very lucky and have an amazingly patient husband who does everything he can to makes things more comfortable where he can and I need to acknowledge him a lot for that.
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Throughout my pregnancy I'd had many encounters with moms who were more then willing to share their experiences with breastfeeding with me. Some were honest recounts of their trials, while others gave me the "oh it's such a natural feeling, you'll be great" load of bull. Don't get me wrong, I understand everyone has their own unique experience, but damn it if I wasn't naive enough to fall for it when my close friend who had her baby just weeks before me, had no trouble at all. Her baby latched perfectly right from the beginning and everything was smooth sailing. She was at peace with next to no pain and made it look so easy breezy, I thought "Hell, I can do this, no problem." HA!
Holden came racing into this world in a hurry as you'll read in another post. In my heroic efforts to keep everything natural I scooped him up from under me; as soon as I came back from being in shock, and got him right on my breast. He knew what to do and settled in for his first feed. Looking back, it had to have been the two shots of oxytocin, hormones and adrenaline that gave me the false impression that it didn't hurt. (I did tell the midwives I wanted to stay up late a share my feelings with them after all!) I kept looking down at him in amazement that he was basically showing me what to do. "Great" I thought, if he's going to show me how to do things I'm sure we will all be just fine. We got him packed up in the car and headed home, left to our devices. Tony and I made ourselves as comfortable as possible in bed with our new baby and stared at him glassy eyed till he needed feeding again. Tony scurried around me wanting to get anything I needed and I settled in for my second round of feeding. This time it felt different. I could still feel the effects of the oxytocin but not as strong. I was very aware this time of my nipples and the building sensation and heard this voice in the back of my head mumble, maybe this isn't going to be so great after all. Way too many people came over that first night but the distraction was welcome. I was now very aware that I had a long, painful road ahead of me if I was going to stick with the breastfeeding. By the next day I was starting to get an increasing panicky feeling whenever Holden needed feeding. By the 3rd Day my shoulders were in my ears, my neck was so tense it was sending shooting pain down my right arm all the way to my wrist and I was now doing breath work to gear up for the feedings. With my toes curled under and loud inhales and exhales I would prepare for him to latch on and immediately start crying. And not a few tears either. I'm talking about the kind of crying where tears are shooting out the sides of your eyes and you can't catch your breath. This was no fucking joke anymore. I was actually panicking now. "Is it supposed to hurt this much?" After a quick look from our midwife it turned out our little boy was tongue and lip tied. A double whammy! He wasn't able to open his mouth wide enough to latch onto anything other then my nipple. I should mention, I have incredibly sensitive nipples to start with too! This is explains the pain, chapped, cracked and bleeding I was now experienced, only to be made worse by each feed which occurred every 1-3 hours. That night I threw a tantrum myself! "Whoever said this was a fucking miracle is goddamn liar! No-one told me it would hurt like this! Woman are all cursed! We are fucking cursed! I just pushed a human out of my vagina without any pain relief, I'm sore where no-one should be sore! I have stitches where no-one should have stitches and now my fucking nipples are bleeding! This is bullshit!" Sobbing continued for another 10 minutes while I fed our son and Tony looked at my wide eyed and speechless. I mean really, what do you say to that? We had to wait 5 more days until we were able to get the tongue and lip tie fixed. I tried pumping but not all my milk had come in yet so that was a bust. We even rented a hospital grade pump which turned into its own ordeal when they forgot to mention to Tony that the bottles are sold separately. Poor Tony drove all the way back to our home in the country only to discover he had to go back out and buy bottles for me to pump into. All this for it only to be used once! At last, it was recommended I try using a nipple shield. Yes, it is exactly what it sounds like. A shield that gets placed over my nipple. Finally, a bit of relief! I have to use the shield for every feed but it allowed my nipples to heal, has taken the pain away and ensures my little man is being properly fed, and the best part is it allows me to continue to breastfeed. I was so determined to stick with it, my mom, aunt, husband and even a lactation consultant were shocked I hadn't given up. I was in a lot of pain at first but have since heard horror stories of woman developing mastitis and continuing through. My possibly immature tantrum may have held a bit of truth in that woman are cursed. We are cursed with drive, determination and a need to provide for our children that spares no expense and sees no limit. |
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