The closer I get to bringing this next baby into the world, the stronger this feeling grows that’s been subtly gnawing at me for months now. It feels like there’s something in me that’s been left unresolved. Along with this comes an urgency to address them now, before the next baby gets here. I feel like I can’t let myself have this baby with all of these old, lingering feelings around my last birth and postpartum experience. It’s understandable, I think. Those times were hard–really hard.
I did not experience any of the blissful, euphoric feelings that everyone else had told me they felt. And to be honest, I felt ashamed of that. Especially because on the outside, there was no reason I shouldn’t have felt that. My birth went smoothly. I was only in labor for six hours and came out of it with just a minor tear. I got to go home and stay home with my baby for as long as I wanted, not having to worry about maternity leave running out. From the outside, nothing traumatic had happened. But on the inside, I felt pretty traumatized.
My labor experience really wasn’t that bad. It was hard as f*ck, but it was just a matter of enduring pain, which I felt like I had prepared for and handled pretty well. But something happened when my son finally came out of my body. Instead of feeling this huge sense of relief or accomplishment, I actually felt like my body had been violated. I know that sounds strange, and it’s hard to even type these words out, but it’s just honestly how I felt. I instantly had this acute awareness of how exposed and vulnerable I was. So much of what was inside of my body had just come out–a baby, a placenta, an umbilical cord, blood, fluid–and there was a room full of midwives and nurses right up front to see it all. I felt like I was left just lying there, wide open and empty.
In that moment there was no time (or physical ability) to try and close myself up somehow, like by closing my legs or covering up. There was no time to process what the hell just happened. My screaming baby was placed on my chest while the midwife looked at my tear, a nurse pressed on my stomach (which was extremely painful), and another nurse tried to say something to me that I didn’t even hear. I was having all of these intense feelings of violation, confusion, shame, and a weird hollowness inside, but I had no time or capability to process any of it.
My baby screaming in my face forced my mind straight into survival mode. Do what you can to calm the baby. Take care of the baby. It was all I could think about. There was no time for anything I was feeling. My baby needed me for survival. I needed to only focus on that.
These feelings did not go away for quite a few months postpartum. The ongoing pain that recovery and breastfeeding brought me were a constant reminder of that feeling of violation I felt while giving birth. And then the confusion and shame would always follow after that.
Why did I feel that way giving birth when every other birth story I’d heard ended in the mother being in this beautiful state of euphoric bliss?
Is there something wrong with me?
Maybe I wasn’t meant to be a mom after all.
How can I be the mom I always wanted to be when I had these uncontrollable, horrible feelings while giving birth?
I felt haunted by this experience for months. I can’t know for sure, but I do feel like if my recovery had gone smoother and breastfeeding hadn’t gone terribly, that I would’ve felt better sooner. But being in constant physical pain for so long made it feel impossible to address any of those unwelcome feelings I was having. It felt like my mind was stuck in survival mode for the longest time. All I could think about was how to take care of the baby (who had colic for the first three months and then continued to be a non-sleeper for the next nine), and how to get myself out of the physical pain I was in.
Eventually, little by little, things started getting better. My stitches healed and that whole region recovered in about six weeks. The severe constipation I had after birth that caused significant pain lingered for about another month and then subsided. My son finally started sleeping for more than two hours at a time after about three months. And breastfeeding finally got easier around eight months, but the significant pain it caused ended around five or six months.
I didn’t feel normal again until after I stopped breastfeeding and my period came back at about fourteen months postpartum. Once I did feel normal again, I found myself avoiding all of those feelings that had been pushed back to the depths of my mind. I finally felt good again. The last thing I wanted to do was revisit the place of mind that I was trapped in for so long. After a while, those feelings were so far away it felt like maybe they were gone. But they were always there. They never really left me.
This time around, I am determined to have a better experience. I am doing everything in my control to plan for a better recovery. I know there will be things I can’t control and I may have different pains and troubles this time, and I accept that. But there are things I can do to at least try and make it easier on myself. First thing is to get truly resolved with my previous experience. Next is to prepare as much as I possibly can to prevent these types of feelings from coming up again. But if they do, this time I won’t judge myself for it. I know now this is an experience that many women go through, and there is nothing wrong with that or me.
Sometimes giving birth can affect or change you in ways you never even imagined. But no matter what, your birth experience is your own to grow and learn from, and cherish when you’re ready.
And that’s the mom tea.
With love,
Jennelle