**DISCLAIMER**
THESE NEXT FEW POSTS WILL REVEAL AND DISCUSS SELF HARMING THOUGHTS AND BEHAVIORS.
Thankfully, the physical harm done to my person was minimal. My thoughts, on the other hand, are quite disturbing, even for me to reminisce on.
So please, if you think it will be hard or cause undo stress or anxiety, take a moment to ponder whether you want to continue to read these posts. The last thing I want to do is dredge up past unhappiness or bring any unwanted, painful memories to surface again.
I understand that some people will find these posts informational and interesting, others may find them cathartic in some way, and yet others may find them difficult to swallow.
So please proceed with caution.
This story will be in at least three segments. I will post this disclaimer before each one.
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After getting the results of our pregnancy test, we were both in shock. It took us a few days for it to sink in. I came to grips with it faster than Shon. Poor guy. It took him like three days to smile again. He was that freaked out. Because at this point in our conception journey, we really didn't think we would be able to conceive without medical fertility treatments. In fact, I had made an appointment in January to see a fertility specialist. Turned out, I wouldn't need it.
This new development helped my mood like drugs never could. The next month was full of setting appointments, planning and deciding how to break the news to our families at Christmas. Needless to say, it was a very exciting time for me. I remember wanting to tell everyone about it, but I had promised Shon I would wait until the end of the first trimester to tell people. Except our families. That was a fun experience and one that I may blog about later on, but I want to keep the focus of this post on my mentality.
Of course, I went through all the feelings that most heavily pregnant women go through towards the end of a pregnancy. I wanted this baby out of me!!! I experienced horrible heartburn, suffered from super swollen feet (I worked as a teller, so I would stand a lot of the day if I was helping customers), I was waking up multiple times in the night to pee and change positions, and was just overall uncomfortable.
And so labor progressed. I made it to 7.5 cm dilated before they broke my water and then, WOWZA! The contractions hit full force and I couldn't breathe. I was hyperventilating. We decided an epidural would be the best thing for me. I was a little disappointed that I had made it almost to an 8 without one, but looking back, I am glad I got it. I was at 9 cm by 11:30 pm. And then the contractions stopped. And I got so mad at my body! We waited to see if they would start up again and by 1:00 am, they still hadn't, so they gave me a little pitocin and had me do a few tiny pushes, trying to get me to a 10. Finally, at 2:00 am, it was time to push. And at 2:46 am, Donovan Alexander Reed was born. Lots of emotions, lots of feelings, lots of smiles and tears and oohs and ahhs. Here was my little miracle baby. He was finally here. In my arms. And I was home.
And that was true. For about 6 months. Then I really started needing that adult conversation. I started to understand what seemed impossible for me to understand before. Once my baby started becoming mobile, it wasn't as much "fun" anymore. Most of my time was spent running after him and grabbing stuff out of his hands that he was trying to eat off the floor and telling him "no" and "get down" and "not for babies" and "please stop" and "shhhh" and, well, you get the picture. Gone were the days when I could doze on the couch holding him or bundle him up in his car seat and go walk around thrift stores. Now he wanted out and down and everywhere. And it was exciting to see him reach the milestones, but it just meant that my "stay at home life" had changed. And it was then that I fully realized what it meant to be a stay at home mom. It was so much more than napping when the baby napped or reading books or watching Baby First TV and singing all the songs to him. I was responsible for how this little baby would learn and grow and act. It was a pretty heavy realization.
I was beginning to feel overwhelmed. I remember the moment when I knew I needed some more help in my life. I was feeling insufficient and unqualified to be a mom. I was constantly comparing Donovan to other kids and finding all the places he was "behind" in. Then the guilt would creep in and on top of my feeling of inadequacy, I began to wonder if I had made the right choice in having a child when I was clearly not able to handle it. (This is just what I was thinking. I know that many mothers feel these same things, but in my mind, I was truly failing my child).
With that knowledge in my head, I pressed forward, trying furtively to throw myself into motherhood. That worked for maybe a month. By the time Donovan was about 18 months old, I could tell something needed to change. Not to be melodramatic, but I knew something was wrong when all I could think about was throwing the poor child out the window. Every little cry or whine was enough to get my blood boiling. I wasn't connecting with him the way I sincerely wanted to. Because on the surface, my general mood was apathetic. I just didn't care. The part of me that truly wanted him to succeed was still there, it was just overshadowed by the "selfish" part of me who just wanted him to deal with things on his own and leave me out of it. I started to expect so much more of him than any 20 month old should have to do. I wanted to know what he was saying and trying to communicate, and I would get frustrated with him when I couldn't understand him. It is totally not his fault, and I know that logically, but in the moment, all I felt was impatience and annoyance.
Even as I write this, I am crying, because why can't I just let him be a toddler? Why can't I turn even the most annoying thing into a learning experience, rather than be convinced that he was trying to make my life miserable? What kind of mom would do that??? :( He was my baby, but all I wanted was for him to learn and grow and leave me out of it. I found it an inconvenience that he wanted me to read books to him. Annoying that he wanted to watch the same show over and over and over. Hated it when he wouldn't eat what I put in front of him. I began to punish him for being a regular, active toddler. I would wish that he would nap all afternoon so I could have a minute to myself. Let him play on his own, so I could read a book or watch a TV show or play a puzzle in my puzzle book. I was more important to myself than he was to me. Who. Thinks. Like. That???? What kind of a mother was I? I didn't even have any right to have a child. I felt like I was doing irreparable harm to him and even as I was thinking that, I didn't care..... I knew I needed help, but just couldn't get myself to try. Gah! Writing this is so hard! It makes me feel ashamed and embarrassed. :(
This story will be in at least three segments. I will post this disclaimer before each one.
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In this second segment, I will talk about my prenatal and postnatal thoughts and actions and bring everyone up to right before the worst of everything started, which was about a year ago. The last segment will cover this last year and the ups and downs I experienced.
This post will also not be as disturbing, but the next one probably will be. So enjoy this while you can! :)
After getting the results of our pregnancy test, we were both in shock. It took us a few days for it to sink in. I came to grips with it faster than Shon. Poor guy. It took him like three days to smile again. He was that freaked out. Because at this point in our conception journey, we really didn't think we would be able to conceive without medical fertility treatments. In fact, I had made an appointment in January to see a fertility specialist. Turned out, I wouldn't need it.
I was soooooo lucky that I never had morning sickness. I would feel nauseous one in a while in the mornings when I didn't eat a good enough breakfast, but other than that, there was no sickness. Smells bothered me. Certain perfumes and raw meat. Oh and working at the bank, we experienced all kinds of smells emanating from the customers and I do remember one customer coming in smelling like cat pee. It was so bad that I had to keep backing up from them while they were at my window because I was afraid I was going to lose my lunch. But all in all, pregnancy wasn't that horrifying of a physical experience for me, thank goodness!!
The knowledge that I was going to have a baby carried me through the pregnancy in a happy, fulfilled kind of stupor. For the most part anyway. However, I did start back on an antidepressant (the lowest dosage) towards the middle of my pregnancy. And I'm not sure if it was pregnancy brain or what, but I sincerely cannot remember the details about why I went back on the meds. I do know that my husband and my doctor thought I should. But I totally cannot remember what changed in me that caused that concern. I would stay on the small dosage until I was done nursing Donovan, which was around March of 2014.
Of course, I went through all the feelings that most heavily pregnant women go through towards the end of a pregnancy. I wanted this baby out of me!!! I experienced horrible heartburn, suffered from super swollen feet (I worked as a teller, so I would stand a lot of the day if I was helping customers), I was waking up multiple times in the night to pee and change positions, and was just overall uncomfortable.
I woke up to regular contractions on Wednesday, July 24, 2013. I called into work and monitored my contractions during the day. I had a doctors appointment scheduled for that afternoon, so the doc told me to come in early and they would monitor me. I was 36 weeks and 4 days pregnant at this point, so they wanted to make sure it wasn't false labor. I was excited and REALLY nervous about the fact that the contractions were so regular. I still had three weeks, right???
I went into the doc and she said the contractions are regular, but only every 7 or so minutes apart. She figured I would need to go home and wait it out. Then she checked my cervix and BAZINGA!!! Her eyes were really wide and in a shocked voice she said, "Well, you are dilated to a 5. You need to get to the hospital right now." And that was it. I was going to have a baby. Seriously???? What about those three extra weeks I was supposed to have? And hello?? Weren't first babies supposed to be overdue most of the time?? Good grief!
So Shon called the two sets of grandparents and I got myself put together enough to walk across the street to the hospital. This was really happening! I was so nervous and excited and was experiencing so many other emotions. It was almost surreal. Like, I was outside my body watching myself walk into the hospital and up to the maternity ward. How could I really be having a baby?? Gosh! Someone tell me what to do!!!!!! How can I be a mother? I'm going to mess it up, for sure! Can I do this? Can I really do this? I don't think I can do this..... But I have to do this. It's too late to back out now. Well maybe I can just stay pregnant?? I mean, what would happen if I just crossed my legs and refused to push? What if I turn my baby into a serial killer? What if he gets terminally sick? How could I live without him? Why did I want to have a kid again?? Something about wanting to feel fulfilled and a biological clock thingy? Is that what it was? Do I still feel that way? Oh my gosh, I am getting into a hospital gown and they are hooking me up with fluids and what the heck??? There's a baby bassinet and heating lamp and monitors and nurses and what the what?!?!?!? What if I poop during labor? When was the last time I pooped? Did I shave my legs recently? And HOLY COW!!! I'm going to have to breastfeed soon!!!! And what's this they're showing me now? Paperwork?? Seriously?? A name for the baby? Applying for a social security number? Birth announcement? Birth certificate? What is all this crap??!!!!! And why didn't I think about all this before right now???
Just a few of the thoughts rushing through my head. And there were countless more.
And so labor progressed. I made it to 7.5 cm dilated before they broke my water and then, WOWZA! The contractions hit full force and I couldn't breathe. I was hyperventilating. We decided an epidural would be the best thing for me. I was a little disappointed that I had made it almost to an 8 without one, but looking back, I am glad I got it. I was at 9 cm by 11:30 pm. And then the contractions stopped. And I got so mad at my body! We waited to see if they would start up again and by 1:00 am, they still hadn't, so they gave me a little pitocin and had me do a few tiny pushes, trying to get me to a 10. Finally, at 2:00 am, it was time to push. And at 2:46 am, Donovan Alexander Reed was born. Lots of emotions, lots of feelings, lots of smiles and tears and oohs and ahhs. Here was my little miracle baby. He was finally here. In my arms. And I was home.
My mom arrived in the early afternoon, having driven from Spokane, WA. Donovan is her first grandchild and she was smitten. It was so nice to have her there to help. She stayed until Labor Day weekend, which was a major help! Because, as much as I was in love with this little bundle of sweetness, I was also dealing with some of the rotten parts of having a newborn. I breastfed, but Donovan had so many issues latching. He was born at 6.5 lbs., and ended up getting down to 5 lbs. 13 oz. because he just wasn't able to get enough from my breast. This was when I started feeling the depression sneak back in. I couldn't even feed my baby!!!! I would sit on the couch in the middle of the night and both Donovan and I would be crying, one of us out of hunger, the other out of frustration. Feeding him was at least a two person job. At these times, my mom was such a help because she helped me stay calm and kept reassuring me that he wouldn't starve. I could do this.
After many doctor and lactation consultant visits, the decision was made that we needed to supplement his feeding with formula. As soon as the poor baby started getting some formula, he finally started gaining weight again. And he looked less and less like a skeleton baby. I was happy that he was healthy, but I was sad that my body wasn't able to do what it was designed for. I just couldn't produce enough milk for him and the milk I did produce could be considered the "skim" milk of breast milk. But I tried really hard to just be happy that he was able to receive the nutrition he needed. He began to thrive. :)
Once I went back to work, nursing was almost impossible for me. He pretty much weaned himself off the breast by 8 months old. I was blessed to be able to quit work around this time and be a stay at home mom. Something I had wanted for ALL my life.
I had heard from other stay at home moms that it can also be quite the challenge because you start to crave adult companionship and some kind of social stimulus. I thought that I would be fine. I wouldn't need that. I had always wanted to be a mom and now I was able to live my dream. How could I ever not want to be with my baby?
And that was true. For about 6 months. Then I really started needing that adult conversation. I started to understand what seemed impossible for me to understand before. Once my baby started becoming mobile, it wasn't as much "fun" anymore. Most of my time was spent running after him and grabbing stuff out of his hands that he was trying to eat off the floor and telling him "no" and "get down" and "not for babies" and "please stop" and "shhhh" and, well, you get the picture. Gone were the days when I could doze on the couch holding him or bundle him up in his car seat and go walk around thrift stores. Now he wanted out and down and everywhere. And it was exciting to see him reach the milestones, but it just meant that my "stay at home life" had changed. And it was then that I fully realized what it meant to be a stay at home mom. It was so much more than napping when the baby napped or reading books or watching Baby First TV and singing all the songs to him. I was responsible for how this little baby would learn and grow and act. It was a pretty heavy realization. 
I was beginning to feel overwhelmed. I remember the moment when I knew I needed some more help in my life. I was feeling insufficient and unqualified to be a mom. I was constantly comparing Donovan to other kids and finding all the places he was "behind" in. Then the guilt would creep in and on top of my feeling of inadequacy, I began to wonder if I had made the right choice in having a child when I was clearly not able to handle it. (This is just what I was thinking. I know that many mothers feel these same things, but in my mind, I was truly failing my child).
When he was 11 months, I went in to the doc and she started me on a new medication that non nursing mothers could take. It helped a little bit. Took the edge off. But my feelings of failure continued. I felt like if I couldn't feel 100% happy all the time, that I was doing something wrong. I began to think that maybe having a baby wasn't the best thing in the world. Had I really wanted a baby for myself, or was I just trying to fulfill the role that society and my peers expected of me? And what was wrong with me, that I didn't want 4 kids like all my friends had? I must be a terrible mother. I had come to grips with the fact that Donovan should have a sibling, but only one other. And if I wanted to be completely honest with myself, I would rather not even have another one. But I know Donovan and I know he would thrive with a sibling. So the decision was made that we would have one more. But we wouldn't start to try until Shon was almost done with his Bachelor's degree.
With that knowledge in my head, I pressed forward, trying furtively to throw myself into motherhood. That worked for maybe a month. By the time Donovan was about 18 months old, I could tell something needed to change. Not to be melodramatic, but I knew something was wrong when all I could think about was throwing the poor child out the window. Every little cry or whine was enough to get my blood boiling. I wasn't connecting with him the way I sincerely wanted to. Because on the surface, my general mood was apathetic. I just didn't care. The part of me that truly wanted him to succeed was still there, it was just overshadowed by the "selfish" part of me who just wanted him to deal with things on his own and leave me out of it. I started to expect so much more of him than any 20 month old should have to do. I wanted to know what he was saying and trying to communicate, and I would get frustrated with him when I couldn't understand him. It is totally not his fault, and I know that logically, but in the moment, all I felt was impatience and annoyance. 
Even as I write this, I am crying, because why can't I just let him be a toddler? Why can't I turn even the most annoying thing into a learning experience, rather than be convinced that he was trying to make my life miserable? What kind of mom would do that??? :( He was my baby, but all I wanted was for him to learn and grow and leave me out of it. I found it an inconvenience that he wanted me to read books to him. Annoying that he wanted to watch the same show over and over and over. Hated it when he wouldn't eat what I put in front of him. I began to punish him for being a regular, active toddler. I would wish that he would nap all afternoon so I could have a minute to myself. Let him play on his own, so I could read a book or watch a TV show or play a puzzle in my puzzle book. I was more important to myself than he was to me. Who. Thinks. Like. That???? What kind of a mother was I? I didn't even have any right to have a child. I felt like I was doing irreparable harm to him and even as I was thinking that, I didn't care..... I knew I needed help, but just couldn't get myself to try. Gah! Writing this is so hard! It makes me feel ashamed and embarrassed. :(
My son is my world and I was treating him like he was a boil on my backside. And my husband was also feeling the brunt of my indifference. I was creating rifts between myself and the most important people in my life and I DIDN'T CARE. I was a shell. I had no feelings. This was not good. I was headed down a terrible road.
I would like to say that I "saw the light" at this point and started on my journey back. But it was just beginning. I had only begun my descent into the darkness.
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END OF PART TWO
Stay tuned for Part Three
I will try to post it before Thanksgiving
Thanks everyone!
Let's make it a great day!
<3 Sometimes I wonder if this is why we haven't been able to have kids yet. I know I couldn't handle it right now. I'm hoping to follow the path of medication and therapy to help me sort things out and get "back on track".
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