Amateur Baby Blues

First, you must know I've been writing this post for roughly 2 weeks. I've been wanting to write honestly how this period of time has been - as Dickens said, it was the best of times, it was the worst of times.

The first three (or so) weeks of my child's life has been the hardest thing I've ever done. I've never loved someone so much that caused me to turn my life upside down - that caused me to stop sleeping, stop fitting into my clothes, stop blogging/facebooking, stop exercising, stop eating dairy, stop interacting with others. I'm pretty sure the next few weeks won't exactly be a walk in the park, either

Let's start from the beginning, with something they DON'T tell you at your birth class or third trimester OB visits:

That your life will never be the same, and you have no idea how different it will be from anything you could imagine. That your life completely revolves around the needs of your child. You will most likely have no idea what your child needs, or even how to meet those needs, and you will feel both hopeless and terrible that you don't know what you're doing.

For me, it took a solid two, two and half weeks to not cry at the drop of a hat. It took a visit from my sister pushing me out of the house; my husband telling me to get outside, play music, and practice some yoga; going on a few walks; making sure to take a shower and get dressed every day; and eventually calling my OB and scheduling an appointment to make sure I'm not crazy.

I am definitely still crazy, just not certifiable (yet).

So first there was CHOPS, which didn't even brush the surface of the baby blues. Visitors coming? Tears. Visitors leaving? Tears. My mother talking about the delivery? Tears. Me recounting the delivery or talking about my feelings? Tears. Trying to take a nap when the baby naps? Tears. First doctor's visit? Panic attack. Reading endless newborn material? Stressing out about not doing it right, and you guessed it - more tears. Thinking about how much I love my daughter? Tears.

Those hormones are real, people. And like I said, they don't really warn you or prep your husband or family for the insanity that is about to ensue. They don't send a message out to your friends letting them know that while you'd love to chat and talk about your birth story and motherhood, you feel like bawling; however, you still need their texts and Facebook messages and voicemails.

Looking back, I'm not sure if any warning would've really done much at all - and I'm sure down the road I'll forget about how one of the happiest moments of my life (the birth of my daughter) also coincides with one of the most emotionally taxing period of my life.

I'm finally learning that I can read all the books, but nothing replaces a mother's intuition. That your family and friends are very ready and willing to help you. That no one really knows what they're doing, and one day you will sleep again and you will miss how your kid was once a tiny baby.*

I love the advice that I've received - the different book recommendations, the idea to sleep when she sleeps and to give nursing a solid two weeks. I love that people who have no idea what I'm like 24/7 tell me I'm doing great - because to be honest, I feel that most of the time I'm lost in a sea of baby wailing and breast milk.

With that, thank you everyone for your love and support. Thanks for thinking my baby is pretty, thanks for understanding that I'm not ignoring you, and thanks for listening. Slowly but surely, we are becoming a team (I think). This sweet little gal sure does give me (and her dad) and run for our money (how could I write and NOT post pics?! I know that's why you're here, anyway):

3 weeks old

*probably; I think I look forward to having a kid who can verbalize their needs way too much right now.