I’m 10 weeks postpartum, and I’m still having moments when I feel like the walls are caving in.
Moments when the sound of my crying newborn triggers instant anxiety. Moments when I snap at my Saint-of-a-husband for no good reason. Moments when I miss being pregnant. Moments when I relive my labor and delivery over and over again in my head. Moments when I feel like the weight of motherhood is crushing my chest. Moments when I feel ashamed for feeling this way.
This isn’t my first experience dealing with the baby blues either. They hit me like a ton of bricks after my first baby was born, when motherhood was so new and so daunting. But this time, I told myself, I knew what to expect afterward. I knew what my triggers were. I knew I wouldn’t have time to feel sad or mad or [fill in the blank] because I also had a 2-year-old to chase after. This time, I told myself, I wouldn’t let the baby blues get the best of me. But I was wrong.
I lasted one week and two days after my daughter was born before, for lack of a better phrase, losing it. All of the pent-up exhaustion, emotions and frustrations from the first nine days of her life and since becoming a mom of two made their way down my face as hot, burning tears. It was then I realized I couldn’t keep up the “I’m totally fine” charade any longer. It was ok to be happy one minute and then sad the next. It was ok to cry over spilled breast milk. It was ok to feel anxious when my husband went back to work. It was ok to not wear my mom hat 24/7. And it’s all still ok.
I’m not a medical professional by any means and know that the way some new moms feel after having their littles warrants a trip to the doctor. That was me after my first baby. After several months post-birth had gone by, I still wasn’t feeling quote-unquote normal. My doctor prescribed a low dose of an antidepressant to help take the edge off, and I participated in some therapy sessions with a counselor that specializes in postpartum depression.
While sometimes medical intervention is necessary when it comes to beating the baby blues (and there’s no shame in seeking help), I’ve also discovered some things that help me when I start feeling bluer than the Genie in Aladdin:
- Take a hot shower or bath – Washing all of the stress (and spit-up) from the day away is a must for me every night to feel rejuvenated and ready to tackle the next day.
- Drink lots of water – I’m not as good about this as I should be. But when I start to feel anxious (nursing tends to trigger this emotion for me), I become really thirsty, too, so I try to keep a bottle of water handy at all times.
- Dream big – The thought of starting from scratch in the newborn department (i.e. a super needy tiny human) – especially when my toddler is becoming more and more independent every day – can be a bit daunting. So I like to think about what my next passion project will be when our lives start to return to normal because it gives me something to look forward to.
- Have dance parties – The equivalent to going on a walk with your new baby to get some fresh air. Both of my babies were born in November, so outdoor excursions to boost my mood weren’t exactly in the cards. Instead, we have dance parties in the living room. And by “we,” I mean me, myself and Alexa.
- Go for a drive – Not only might this help get a fussy baby to sleep, but it also gives you a chance to get back in the driver’s seat – both literally and figuratively. One of the first things I looked forward to after having my babies was driving somewhere for the first time as a new mom (after being medically cleared, of course). It gave me a newfound sense of empowerment and independence after being cooped up inside post-birth.
So yes, I’m 10 weeks postpartum and am still having moments when I feel like the walls are caving in. But I also have moments when I feel like the luckiest mom in the world as my baby girl smiles up at me. Moments when I feel like I can conquer the world, one blowout at a time. Moments when I get baby fever again already.
And it’s ok to have these moments, baby blues and all.
