Showing posts with label Postpartum depression. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Postpartum depression. Show all posts

The Ramblings Inside My Creative Mind: Call Me If You Need Me

         That's a phrase we've all muttered before and heard from someone close to us. "Call me if you need me." I've come to realize, as I get older, that this phrase is just said to keep up appearances or something to embellish sympathy. If a loved one of someone close to you dies it's almost second nature to say "Call me if you need me" without holding onto the promise that you'll be available and also with full knowledge that the person you've said this to will feel like too much of a burden to even bother with your request. 

        My son just turned a month old a few days ago. Most days are great and exciting, but when the days are bad they are really bad. What amplifies those bad days are looking at an empty phone and noticing that after about two weeks those "How are you and baby doing?" texts have almost completely stopped, with the exception of my mom. I have to hand it to her that she reaches out every day. It makes me wonder where is everyone else, but then I know that this is also something that is not new. I look back on when I lost my home in Chicago and had to come back to Dayton. Where was everyone? When my dad died my friends were scarce. When I miscarried twice there was nobody there. When I was laid up in a hospital bed for 46 days, waiting for my son to be born, majority of people were nowhere to be found. Now with my son here we are again. People think that a few likes on his pics will suffice or sending a onesie in the mail is enough. No. Where. Are. You? They say it takes a village to raise a child, but what do you do when your village is already small and with that small village I have to be the one who has to keep connections going because if I don't the texts dry up and even then they still do anyways. It's easy for people to say to reach out if I need anything, but unless it's nothing major I'm not going to be that person constantly reaching out because I need 10 minutes to myself or a nap. In the end, just someone's name popping up on my phone with the message "Are you ok?" would be enough, but I can't even get that. 

        I do realize that a lot of this feeling lands on my shoulders. I expect others to see me drowning because, to me, I am visably crashing and burning, while others might think it looks like I have it together. The other is, the main reason adult friendships diminish, which is that life gets in the way. People have to work, have kids or other family they look after, school, errands, etc and sometimes things get thrown to wind especially if they don't see them as important. I do understand these things, but even then all of this, for me, gets thrown out the window when I see that I'm ALWAYS overlooked. It adds extra stress to me because as my maternity leave winds down I know I should get busy on looking for another job or make arrangements with my current one so that I can still be around to watch my son, if my village seems to be a little unreliable. 

        I try by taking parenting classes and reaching out to other moms. Even the other moms that are in my life have almost completely ignored me (one I even told I desperately needed mom friends and I haven't heard back since) which makes me close in on myself when it comes to building friendships with other moms I don't know through these classes. 

       Moral of the story is it doesn't pay to be loyal in friendships that seem to have run their course, and it's ok to admit when some relationships have run their course. It also doesn't benefit growing up as the black sheep and letting that persona bleed over into every other relationship. Just because I'm the black sheep in my family doesn't mean that I have to be that in my friendship circles, but that way of carrying myself followed me everywhere. It became a part of me.

        So I  march on with mommyhood. Still the mpost challenging and rewarding job I've had so far. As soul crushing as it has been, sometimes, I would not change a single thing. 

The Ramblings Inside My Creative Mind: Not For the Weak

        Here I am a little more than two weeks into motherhood. I had no idea what I was expecting when it came to day to day with a newborn. The only intention I had was to be an understanding mom who practiced gentle parenting in order to raise a compassionate human being, but that's in the future. It's the newborn phase I wasn't prepared for and I am fighting for my life. 
        I didn't expect to feel extreme happiness one minute and extreme sadness the next. There is no in between. I find myself weeping because I can't believe this beautiful sweet little boy came from me and I find myself weeping because I'm so exhausted and frustrated and because of those emotions I dive into the deep end of mom guilt and my mind tries to convince me that I'm a shit mom. From day one when I had a hard time getting him to breastfeed, I felt I obviously had to be the issue because what mom can't breastfeed her baby like nature intended? I must be awful, right? It can't be that hormones threw my body out of whack and both me and baby are new at this. I beat myself up about that a lot in the very beginning. Not only because I felt like it should be natural, or that maybe he didn't want to bond with me, but also because there's so much shaming that goes against moms who formula feed and I desperately did not want to add to that, as if it was something I could control and as if my baby being fed should have been the priority.
        I've cried more in these past two weeks than I ever have in my entire life. I want to sit back and enjoy these moments, but instead I'm becoming detached and annoyed. Baby doesn't deserve that. He doesn't deserve a mom that's frustrated and sad. Most days are good, but it's those few that make me feel horrible. I deal with these days of mostly him and I alone and wonder why I can't be better. Then you add in words from others in my ear who said having kids isn't something I should do. Then I feel lonely and wonder if they were right. I said previously that my pregnancy was a lonely, by being in the hospital for nearly two months, but I had no idea parenthood would be the same if not moreso lonely. 
       You take all of these feelings of feeling like a crap mom and double them by feeling like a horrible partner. I have been in trauma mode since 20 weeks pregnant when I was diagnosed with vasa previa. That was 17 weeks (my c section was at 37 weeks) of knowing that at any point I could lose baby. Intercourse off the table, feeling sexy, or even tending to my partner's needs out the window. Now that the big bump is behind us it's almost like learning each other all over again, but you have this other person that puts a little bit of a stall on that. So what does my mind do? Try to convince me that my partner should go elsewhere. No one wants someone who looks like a slob all day, always sad, and chronically exhausted. Who would roll over in bed and think the former shell of a person they loved is attractive and the one they want. I then let myself get more lonely, more overwhelmed, and angry. 
        I know all this is momentary. This hardship will pass. Some things may be broken. Other bonds may become stronger. All I know is that every time I look in my little boys eyes or hear the little noises he makes my heart swells. All the shit we went through to get him here was a million and one percent worth it. I couldn't ask for anything more and he is the greatest gift I've ever gotten. I can't wait to see his little personality shine through even more because he's got such a big one already. I never thought I'd be a mom, and I'm still determined to be the best one for him. My little man deserves that and nothing, but the best. 

- Asia Aneka Anderson (c) 2022