I overheard one mom talking to another at the La Leche League meeting last week. Both had babies under one year old. They were discussing their births and the one mom who had an older child mentioned that it usually takes a year for you to process your birth.
I agree with this, at as Yaya is now 12 weeks old (today!) I am starting to go over the details of her birth and the day after it.
When I was pregnant with Gwennie I was so determined to have her at home. I was stuck in it so deeply that I couldn't imagine it any other way. This time, I didn't really care. I cared to keep seeing Pam LM, but didn't really care if Yaya was born at home. It felt more like an obligation I made. I didn't like that feeling and it really got worse when as the end neared. But I am slightly stubborn and so she was born at home.During my birth, someone turned on the light on my ceiling fan. I wanted it off. Instead of saying anything about it, I seethed inside. I don't know if I was focusing on the irritation of that to help me through it all or if it was just really that irritating to me. I never said anything and that darn, bright, overhead light stayed on the whole flipping time. Grrr,
Pushing her out hurt. I mean like really hurt. I remember with Gwennie it hurt, but also felt like a relief. Gwennie's birth was so much easier on me. I still remember, clearly, the pain. I am shocked that I was able to get her out.
Then of course, she was a girl. And that in itself was disappointing. I told Will that I was surprised that she was a girl, but I would have been shocked if she'd been a boy (even though I was sure she was.) During the Father's Blessing my dad gave me previous to labor, he said "Him" and I thought it was a sign that there really was my boy in there. I thought I would soon meet my son. Only that didn't happen. Its taken me these past 3 months to process that I will never have a son. I am in mourning for "him". (I think I wrote about that yesterday, but its been on my mind a lot the last few weeks.) Right after she was born, I was still filled with birth euphoria and was happy she was HER, but that has worn off and while I love her and can't really imagine what it would have been like had she been he... I will always wonder.
After her birth, like the next day, everyone left me alone. ALONE, upstairs, away from the kitchen, with. no. food. And I was so hungry. My parents took the girls out for a while, which was fine, because Will was here, but he was asleep downstairs. I felt abandoned and if I hadn't hurt so much I would have made my way downstairs no matter what the midwife said. Instead I suffered alone, with a baby who wouldn't wake up and let me look at her eyes and a body that wouldn't sleep.
I am filled with a weird jealous feeling. I don't want to share my baby. I don't want anyone else to hold her. But then I will have times during the day when I don't want to hold her but I don't care to let anyone else hold her. I don't want to share her with Rhayn, and it makes me feel crazy because Rhayn loves to hold her so much. I have to force myself to LET Rhayn hold her and sometimes I fail. She is mine.
I don't know if its because I am still struggling with depression or if its really because I am processing the birth, but today, as she turns 12 weeks old, I feel full of sadness. I need to get out of the house, but its so hot. I need to take Rhayn to the store to purchase a present for a birthday party this weekend... but its so hot and I also could really use a Girl's Night/Afternoon Out/In without my children and with friends. Or maybe a date night with my husband.