One week of motherhood
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As I watch my newborn sleep in his bassinet, I reflect on the full week of being a mom, and the emotions that surround this new chapter of my life—so here is a recap.
Hardships
As much as I tried to prepare for my new life with a baby at the ripe age of (now) 22, the unknown of taking my baby boy home gave me gut wrenching anxiety. No more nurses checking in on me or baby, no lactation specialist at my finger tips, or a nursery to fall back on if I needed extra time to rest—being home meant it was real—motherhood is my new reality.
One of the things while being pregnant that I wasn’t prepared for postpartum was the mourning of him in my belly before he was even out. You could ask anyone who is close to me, by 37 weeks I was over being pregnant. My son was breech so his feet were constantly in my groin and gave me killer pain—so the bigger he got the more pain I endured—and even then, the night before my c-section I cried to the idea of having to share him with the world.
No more waking up to his kicks; feeling his hiccups and movement; I felt empty, and was told this is normal from other mom’s. Even though I knew tons of other women have gone through this intense transition, I still felt alone.
But, when I held him in my arms for the first time I knew I would be okay; seeing his face and features that I have been imagining since I took a test— having his Dad emerge into fatherhood, were all things that made the transition worth it.
As I mentioned previously, I had a c-section due to him being breech; I knew around 32 weeks he was breech, and prepared mentally for the idea of a c-section more than a vaginal birth.
So, when it came time to schedule the surgery, it didn’t really phase me; I knew it was coming—he is a stubborn little dude who hated ultrasounds and hid behind my placenta during NST’S (non stress tests). However, as I sat in my hospital bed after surgery—baby in my arms, drugs flowing through my veins, I didn’t grasp what the surgery truly entailed.
I watched Tiktok’s, read articles, and talked to some fellow moms who had a c-section on what to pack, what their recovery was like, etc, and I still wasn’t ready. Not being able to change my baby’s diaper, get up to comfort him, or hell walking myself to the bathroom, was a feeling of helplessness I wasn’t prepared for.
I am fortunate enough to have a great support system of friends, family, and my fiancé, to help me , and continue to support me through recovery, but I still wasn't expecting the mental and physical toll the surgery would take on me.
I texted all the fellow c-section mom’s in my phone and told them they were strong, seen, and next time I see them they’re getting a fat hug. So, if you or anyone thinks a c-section is the easy way out, I recommend you get one yourself and think again!
The first night home
When the nurses told me night one was going to be the roughest night, I didn’t believe them. I let my naiveness take control because he was so good in the hospital. He loved sleeping for three hours, he was a great at latching right off the bat, and we were spoiled with rest. What was the worst that could happen?
A sudden ‘velcro baby’ was born as soon as we got home.
Suddenly he didn’t like to be swaddled—he clustered like CRAZY my nipples were going to fall off (it is very normal for newborns to cluster, I however didn’t know what that entailed), and he spit up like crazy (I learned the hard way that burping is key before being put down). The choice of co-sleep felt like my only option as exhaustion and frustration was taking over.
Having to wake my partner up to pick him up, change his diaper, or help me get up to go to the bathroom, I felt like a failure. The struggle of the first night, the pain of my surgery, I texted my mom friends SOS — I didn’t know what to do!
My shirt as a swaddle saved my life
I called my best friend, Kenya, and said “what the fuck am I doing?” (pardon my French) — she laughed, and smiled, and said welcome to motherhood with the warmest smile.
She told me her struggles with her two boys, how you do what you have to do to survive, but also told me to use a shirt that has my hot flash sweat in, leaky milk, all the odors basically, and use it along with another swaddle to get him secure. And man-oh-man it saved my life!
We circled through three bassinets, thinking “maybe he has a preference?” (thank you Facebook marketplace), we tried velcro swaddles, and little man found a way to get free every time!
Kenya, if you’re reading this, you’re the MVP!
She also made me aware we had weak swaddle game and to watch a YouTube video—hahahah! Get yourself a friend who keeps it real!!!
My new love
It is easier for me to sit here and share my struggle of the first week, my reality of recovery and beginning of motherhood, but there are not enough words to express the level of love and joy I feel every time I hold my son.
As I watch him sleep, start tummy time, and see him grow more hair and open his eyes; I become amazed at the circle of life—the life I created.
With every struggle I mentioned above, I would do it 100 times again if it meant I can live these days again with him. Getting a routine down with me and my fiancé, seeing my body shift into a new form of itself, getting joyed with every new ounce I produce—the negative is definitely outweighed.
I sit here, looking at my boy, forever grateful he chose me to be his mom in this world.
Today marks a week of motherhood, and today is the first day where I feel as I am more mobile. I can walk to and from the bassinet without help—dare I say even start diaper duty! The light at the end of the tunnel is near and I can say I am starting to survive this motherhood thing.
