Part 4 - Rewind

You know what they say about hindsight? Well, here's a really good example.

When Littlebat was born, I was truly overwhelmed with emotion. It was a really happy time. I was so excited and so in love, but also, I was absolutely terrified.

I looked at him, so tiny and helpless, and felt desperately afraid. I felt that since he was no longer enclosed in the safety of my womb, I was powerless to protect him. I felt a sort of empty sucking feeling every time I thought of his transition to the outside world; how safe and secure he had been, tucked away in there, and how incredibly vulnerable he was, now that he was out.

I was scared out of my mind that something bad was going to happen to him. And I thought about it constantly.

Everything, and I mean literally everything, seemed like a threat - germs, dirt, temperature, noise, chemicals, diseases, vaccines, other people, myself...

I was afraid that he would get hurt or sick, I was afraid that he'd just stop breathing, I was afraid that he'd suffer irrevocable emotional trauma (at some point in his life), I was afraid of just plain not doing things correctly, of not being a good mother.

As much as I wanted to get out of the hospital, I remember feeling horrified that we were allowed to take him home.

I knew it should be right. And I knew that we would be okay. But that didn't stop me from worrying.

I've heard from many people (my therapist included) that it's totally normal for a new parent to have these feelings; to be distinctly aware of threats, to feel fiercely protective of their children. It's hardwired, actually. It's how we survive.

Even so, I knew what I was feeling wasn't normal, or at least what I was going through was not the normal way to experience the feelings.

Adrenaline rushed through me. I was in a constant state of flight-or-flight. My anxiety was at least an eleven (eleven hundred?) on a one-to-ten scale, pretty much all the time.

During the first few days and weeks postpartum, many women experience what are known as "the baby blues". At the time I thought perhaps that was what I was going through, that it was simply my hormone levels readjusting.

I was also still trying to process the information that I'd received, literally moments before leaving the hospital with a two-day old Lb, that I had a pre-existing heart "defect" (that apparently had always been there and was really no big deal).

I cried a lot (mostly in the shower). I screamed a lot (mostly at Papabat). I couldn't sleep. I was a mess.

One time, a woman approached me at the grocery store to ask about my Moby wrap, in which I had bundled Lb snug and sound, completely hidden from public view (which for a while, was the only way I could go out with him). She came a little too close though, and I freaked out. I felt like I couldn't breathe and I barely managed to answer her question. Then I lost sleep over it. What could I/ should I have done differently? Did the stranger breathe on him? Did she notice my reaction? Aaaahhhggghh!

Another time, I had just about a 48 hour long panic attack after a relative kissed him on the forehead. Remember that? Yeah, not my finest moment.

Suffice to say, it was not the baby blues, and it did not just go away.



To be continued.