Crazy hormonal waves of hellatious emotions, crying because my 16 day old child wails for an hour while trying to figure out how to poop, getting into a yelling match over the cats with Jas at 4 pm in the afternoon in front of our daughter...
Yeah. The Shit-Hit-The-Fan list could go on for a couple more pages.
Starting on Wednesday, I just felt like I was going a little crazy. Thanks to the "You need to nurse your infant 10-12 times a day" rule, I wasn't sleeping more than an hour at a time. When I'd wake up to nurse Merri in the morning (5:30/6:00 am), I'd HAVE to shower after sweating enough to lose 5 pounds overnight. Then I'd make Jason lunch and see him off to work. Craving time to myself, I'd stay awake rather than nap after Jas went to work, blogging, wasting time on the internet, watching TV or catching up on my word-of-the-day crossword puzzle calendar (I just now tore off May 1st's puzzle). Of course, it wasn't until when I'd FINALLY remember to feed myself, Merriwether would rise with her little eyes and hungry cries, letting me know it was her turn to eat first. By the time I was done nursing her, I'd be so thirsty that I'd chug water in lieu of eating before beginning the day's chores of laundry, dishes and straightening up. By the time that was complete, Nursing O'Clock struck again.
Rinse and repeat the cycle until total sleep deprivation kicks in.
Seriously, sleep deprivation kinda kicked my ass. Like, completely. On Thursday night after napping with Merri on me, I woke up really disoriented and gave her to Jason saying, "Here, I think your Uncle charm will make her feel better." Needless to say, Jason wasn't just NOT impressed, he was pretty worried as well (And yeah, I went with the double negative there).
Aside from just being plain dumb (Hello...Jason isn't her uncle for crying out loud!) I found myself feeling really down about well, everything. The sun depressed me because I couldn't go outside with her. And, even if I DID go outside with her, I didn't have anything to wear aside from my gray and black maternity clothes. And with the humidity kicking in, those wintery clothes made me sweat double the amount I was already leaking! But I couldn't wear anything else! After all, while weighing only ten pounds more than my pre-pregnancy weight, I'm no where near ready to fit into my hipster jean shorts and cute summer dresses I donned last summer.
These postpartum blues, fueled by sleep deprivation, began to spiral into a tornado of a mess, disabling me from really taking good care of myself.
And what happens when a postpartum woman who's up for 18 hours a day stops eating and staying hydrated?
She has a total breakdown, which is absolutely what happened to me on Friday evening. After celebrating Epipheo's fifth year anniversary, I broke down crying.
And when I say crying, I mean CRYING. Ugly crying with unwavering streams of snot, bewildering moans, and eyes so swollen it looked like I had an allergic reaction to something. I believe the word that best describes these ugly cries is inconsolable.
But I'll admit, I'm damn thankful it happened. Had my breakdown not occurred when it did (Because let's fact it, a total collapse was inevitable), I wouldn't have been able to reset myself over the weekend. With some careful planning, incredible support and long conversations with Jason, I'm feeling more confident about being able to juggle being a new mommy, a wife and an adequately rested human being.
And so, upon the closure of my first Mother's Day, I go into next week with a badge of confidence I didn't have before: "First New Mommy Breakdown." Check.
Bring it on.
