So I guess it happens a lot.
The great betrayal of the body.
It’s starts with that combination of joy and terror that only a pregnancy can bring. You take your vitamins, go to all your check ups, eat properly, cut out coffee and pop from your diet, don’t lift heavy things. You allow your body to be taken over by this half pound being. You vomit. Your head aches. Your back aches. Sleep comes in half hour increments only, as there is no way to be comfortable with a person dancing on your insides. Your feet and ankles swell. You bear a slight resemblance to the marshmallow monster from Ghostbusters.
And then the labour. The first waves of contractions that sweep over your midsection. You feel like your spine is trying to be burst open from the inside. The ice chips, the breathing exercises, that stupid birthing ball. The begging and pleading for the pain to stop. The drugs…. gets a little foggy after that but there is a blissful nap around this point 🙂 Then the pushing. And there he was.
And then your body, which has brought you so far, has done numerous miraculous things through all of this, suddenly turns on you. Your emotions go haywire. The chemicals and hormones in your system decide not to do their part anymore. After all the preparation, the 10 months of being held hostage in your own body, your reward is not to delight in your newborn baby but to wonder if there’s been a terrible mistake and this baby is not in fact yours. Because if it were truly yours, surely you would feel something. Something. Anything.
I don’t like to think of it often. It’s hard to write. It’s hard to talk about. Sure, I’ve told enough people about my post-partum depression, but I usually leave out this bit: I did not like my son. I did not enjoy him. There were moments and nights and days when I did not want him.
In just over a week my baby boy will turn one. 12 months later, it feels like he’s been here with us all along. We are more complete because of him. More of a family. I’m more of a mom now because of him. Each of us are a little more of who we are supposed to be because he’s here.
He spent the first 3 months of his life fighting for my affection.
Well Liam, you fought. And you won. You are 100% a Mama’s Boy now.
Your floppy hair. Your big brown eyes. Your chunky thighs and your two little teeth. The way you laugh, the way you eat, the way you scream. The way you sway from side to side when you hear music, the way you clap your hands. The way mommy and daddy and have to wrestle you to the ground and basically sit on you in order to get a diaper on you.
I love everything about you.
So this blog is about marriage. I never wanted to have a parenting blog, there are lots of those out there. I’ve always been really intent on keeping this about marriage and relationships since I feel it’s important and overlooked. But over the next little while I will share about my ongoing post-partum experience. There’s a lot to share and it might be easier for me to do it in pieces rather than all at once.
And here’s my hubby’s post about his side of the story: http://cchase101.wordpress.com/2012/11/01/marriage-blog-post-partum-depression/
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