The Dark Side

I've got a few minutes while Bailey and my daycare kids are napping, and thought I'd take the opportunity to post about my experience on The Dark Side (as I like to call it).  It took me awhile to come to terms with it, and I know that a lot of other moms go through the same thing but they either don't know what's really going on or feel too ashamed to say anything about it, and so nothing ever comes to light.  Now that I'm (working on) getting past it and moving on, I figured I'd share my experience.  Now bear with me here, because this could get long. 

Before Bailey was born, I had all these pictures in my mind of how our life would be once she was here.  I would dream about it and sometimes the dreams would be so vivid that when I woke up I'd swear that they really happened.  I'd picture the three of us taking walks together with the baby smiling and happy in her stroller.  I saw a daddy's girl high up on Scott's shoulders, giggling and smiling.  I saw the three of us doing so many things and loving every minute.

I knew that I would bond with my daughter the minute I saw her.  I pictured us locking eyes and her tiny hand wrapping around one of my fingers while we smiled at each other.  I'd always read about women who felt that bond, that all-consuming love the second their baby was laid on their chest.  And that's what I was expecting.  

Being in labor was a surreal experience for me.  I don't think it ever really hit me that this was it when my contractions started.  I went through the motions...get the epidural...have your water broken...start pushing...push, push, push...you have a baby!  As soon as she was born, the nurse laid her on my chest.  Bailey and I locked eyes...and that was it.  I'm still ashamed to admit that I didn't feel that bond that I'd always heard about and expected.  She was very alert from the first second, and we gazed at each other for what felt like hours (but was really just a minute before they whisked her away to get weighed and measured), and in that time all I could think was Who is this little person and what the hell am I supposed to do with it?  She didn't cry at first when she was born, and they took her to the other side of the room to do some more suctioning, weighing, measuring.  I watched from the bed, where the doctor was working on my "repair", and I remember wondering why she wasn't crying and if something was wrong with her.  When she did cry, I felt nothing.  No relief, no excitement.  I did feel fear and lots of confusion. 

When we got home, nothing was like I'd pictured it.  Yes, I had my baby and I absolutely loved her.  But nothing was like I thought it would be.  Scott and I fought constantly (looking back, I realize that most of it was my fault for different reasons) to the point where I once told him that I didn't think I wanted to be married anymore.  He has the summers off (he's a high school history teacher), but it was his first year coaching the high school football team so he was working all day every day, and I was home alone with the baby.  Days would go by where I'd look down at myself at 3 in the afternoon and realize that I was still in my pajamas and hadn't combed my hair yet.  I never left the house (except for Sunday dinners at my parents' house).  Breastfeeding wasn't going well at all (I will never get over that one), and Bailey went through periods where all she would do was scream.  Nothing I did could calm her down, not rocking or swaddling or feeding.  Something about her cries hit me straight in the heart.  I couldn't take them.  When she cried, I cried...every time.  It caused me physical pain, and I just couldn't handle it. I was a first time mom with little or no help and I had no clue what I was doing.  If I had asked for help, I'd have had my family and Scott's here in about 4 seconds, but I honestly never even thought to ask.  Every day blurred into the next until I felt like I was in a constant cycle of wake, cry, sleep.  My house was a disaster, I was a disaster, and for a little while there I truly thought my marriage was going to take the hit.  I cried every single day, and those of you who know me know that I very, very rarely cry.  It was mortifying and sad to me to realize that I couldn't handle it, that I wasn't the woman and the mother that I thought I would be.  I wasn't me anymore.  I put on a good show of smiling and making an effort when I was around other people, and I don't think anyone even knew how things were at this point.  But I felt like I was failing my daughter and my husband and I didn't know what to do.

One night when Bailey was about 3 months old, friends of ours (Devon and his wife Diana) came to visit (the guys had a fantasy football draft or something).  I remember sitting down with Bailey and Diana and talking to Di about life with baby.  I can't remember what exactly I said, but I remember later that night thinking about it.  Scott had asked me if I had a good time with Diana, and I remember saying yes and then bits and pieces of what I had said to her coming back to me.  I remembered telling her things about my life that I hadn't admitted to anyone (most of the above) and wondering why the hell I had said what I did.  It bothered me most of that night, and I decided that maybe I wasn't "normal".  So I called my OB (who I absolutely LOVE, by the way) and made an appointment for the next day.

I'm ashamed to say that I completely broke down in her office.  Before I had even gotten pregnant I'd talked to her about it and how badly I wanted a baby soon after getting married.  So her first question to me was, "How's life, Mommy?  Are you loving it?".  I smiled and started to give her the response I gave everyone because I was too embarrassed to admit otherwise, "I love it!"  I choked out that single sentence and burst into tears.  I spent almost an hour in her office and, bless her heart, she never once tried to rush me through it or hustle me out of the office so she could see her next patient.  I laid it all out for her and told her how I felt like I wasn't good enough to be Bailey's mother and that she deserved better, how I was a terrible wife, didn't know what the hell I was doing every day, that nothing was like I thought it would be...everything.  I couldn't understand why I couldn't get it together like every other mother I knew.  The whole time I was sitting there crying and telling this woman basically that I was an unfit mother, my sweet girl was napping in her car seat.  Every time I looked at her I started crying again.  She was everything I'd always wanted and I just didn't understand why I couldn't step up and get myself to remember that.

The doctor gave me a tissue, put her hand on my shoulder, and told me that I had Postpartum Depression and Anxiety.  I wasn't going crazy, I wasn't a terrible mother...I was "sick" and I needed help.  She wrote out a prescription for an antidepressant and I started it that same day. 

Little by little I started to feel better.  It was easier to handle Bailey's crying and I even figured out a way to comfort her and make her stop.  I started to recognize her hunger cues and her tired cues.  I (almost) came to terms with the breastfeeding difficulties.  I was able to get myself up and dressed before noon every day, and actually had the desire to leave my house more than once a week.  I started talking to friends that I'd just let go of after Bailey was born.  I felt like I was me again and I could start to enjoy things. 

Six months later, I feel that bond with my daughter that I was missing the day she was born.  I understand now what all those mothers were talking about when they said they would do anything for their children.  Now I feel comfortable in my ability to be a good mommy to Bailey, and she makes me smile every single day.  I can't imagine what I would be like without her.  As ashamed as I was to admit that things weren't right, I'm more upset that I didn't figure it out and get help sooner.  Because I feel like I was robbed of those first few months of Bailey's life, and they're just too precious to miss out on. 

I experienced The Dark Side for quite a while; definitely for longer than I should have.  I'm still embarrassed about my doctor's office breakdown and I'll always be sad that I let it go on for so long without realizing it when I could have been enjoying my baby.  But, in a way, I'm sort of grateful.  Because since coming back from The Dark Side, I have a whole new appreciation for motherhood, for Bailey, and for family.  I look back on every day and am thankful that I was able to experience the Mommy aspect of it, whether good or bad.  And now I make it a point to really "cherish" the time I have with Bailey.  I may not be the perfect mother, but I think that I'm a damn good one these days.  I know she loves me.  I make sure to tell her that I love her every day.  And give her lots of hugs.  And, of course, I give her kisses til she screams in annoyance...but I'm pretty sure that's just a mom thing.  ;-) 

Quite possibly the worst picture I've ever seen of myself...but Bailey looks great!!