Not depression... just... blue.
It is hard to believe that after such an incredible, (one of the most incredible) moment it is possible to feel anything but absolutely amazing and high from the idea that this new little beautiful, precious baby has entered your life. But, I did. And I think it is a combination of those natural high cloud 9 feelings mixed with the sad blue feelings that make it so confusing and hard to comprehend. They clash, in a way.
We arrived home in the early evening of January 1, 2009 and I couldn't wait to introduce my baby girl to her new baby brother. We walked in the door and my daughter was very happy to see us, but a little weirded out by the tiny little bundle I was holding in my arms. My mom and sisters had been staying with her so she was having a great time. And my apartment was spotlessly cleaned and my mom had cooked up a storm. Something we are all always so very thankful for. At first my daughter wasn't into the idea of a formal introduction to her brother so we just gave her the space she needed until she was ready. Which happened to be the very next day. She sat on our love sac (foam bean bag) and asked to hold her baby brother. It was the sweetest moment. I cried. Of course...
I will admit, our 1st night at home was R-O-U-G-H. I was prepared for the nursing on demand and knew that I wouldn't be getting much sleep, but for some reason it was just different than when we first arrived home with my daughter. Aside from only being a day old my baby boy already required way more attention... Attention I had absolutely no problem giving, it was just an adjustment phase. Naturally. He needed to be changed with practically every wet diaper because if I wasn't fast enough to change him he would leak. Man, baby boys pee A LOT! And if you don't change fast enough you are surely to get peed on as well! So my awesome husband and I spent most of our nights nursing him, changing his diapers AND jammies and then re-swaddling him, only to do it all over again an hour later. Add to that my baby girl waking up a 5am and wanting to nurse and come to our bed with us... Of course we let her. That 1st night/morning my husband offered to take my baby boy to the couch with him while my baby girl and I nursed and cuddled, but I wasn't about to let that happen. Nope. We all cuddled in our bed and my babies took turns at my breast. And then we tried our best to sleep until at least 7am! Sometimes we'd stretch it to 8! By then I had to get up to make breakfast and start our day... This all sounds pretty normal right? Why would I be sad at all? Well... there were a few bumps in our road ahead.
Because my husband is completely dedicated to his family AND to his job he wasn't able to get out of the already scheduled inventory at his company. Especially since he is the manager and had to be there to supervise his dept. So about 10 days after we returned home he had to go back to work for 3 nights - starting at around 8pm and not returning until somewhere between 2-4am. Which meant I was on my own at bedtime and throughout the night... My daughter was still nursing to sleep as was my son (of course!) and I felt like a complete failure at managing my time between my babies. They both needed me so and I had to make them both feel 100% loved and soothed. I settled for nothing less. Most nights I ended up on the couch, nursing them both after neither one of them would go to sleep. Once my husband was home and in bed he never once hesitated to still get up to help me, which I felt so lucky to have, but of course I made him rest up as much as he could. Mornings came and I would do my best to juggle a crying newborn while making eggs for my baby girl. I wasn't smart enough to have a sling back then so I would just hold him and cook with one hand or put him in his swing and hope and pray he wouldn't cry. Once breakfast was made and my daughter was eating peacefully I could sit and just swoon over my son. And by then my husband insisted on getting up to be there for us and with us throughout the day.
By this time his parents had flown into town to visit their brand new grandson. They were (still are!) so proud. They were staying at a nearby hotel and as soon as everyone was up, dressed and able we would go visit them at their hotel for breakfast or lunch or to simply hang out and visit. Admittedly it was difficult for me to muster up the strength to leave the house... healing after the birth was rougher than I had anticipated. And I was just plain exhausted. Never the less getting outside always felt nice and the fresh air was something we all most definitely needed. And when I felt I just couldn't do it they had no problem coming to us. They spoiled us with love and support and I secretly hoped the birth of their grandson would persuade them to move closer to us... I still haven't given up on that hope.
There was one more bump in the road... We had given notice to move out of our apartment and needed to be out by January 15th. Yep, two weeks after my son was born we had to pack up and get out. And nothing in my apartment was packed. Nothing. I was so not ready for this. It was our decision to move and something we needed to do for financial reasons, but still, I was dreading it. Immensely. I felt at a complete loss. I didn't want to leave it all up to my husband to take care of, even though he was completely willing and able, but there was literally not one single part of me that felt I could handle the stress of it all. Which also made me feel horrible. I am also not very good (at all!) about asking for help. It's just not in my nature... something I need to work on, for sure. So when my amazing friends called and begged to come over and help I repeatedly told him "no thank you". My exceedingly generous IL's (In-Laws) heard we needed to buy a fridge for our apt. and took us shopping to pick one out. They didn't even question it. We needed it? They were going to provide it for us. They also offered to pay for movers when they heard we planned to do it all ourselves.... So we graciously took them up on their offers and tried our best to express our heartfelt gratitude.
Our 2 leases overlapped so we could take our time moving in and we were able to kill 2 birds with one stone by meeting the delivery company for the fridge and the gas company guy all in the same day (at the new apt). My daughter immediately chose the room she wanted and in fact the day we were there waiting she and my husband took a nap together, on the carpet, in the room she still sleeps in today. I wound up taking a little walk with my baby boy while looking around our new neighborhood. Things were looking up.
It was January 13th, the last morning of my husbands inventory and ONE day before our movers were scheduled. And there was still so much to be done. I got a call from a very good girlfriend of mine and I must have been feeling completely vulnerable because after her many offers and persuasions I ultimately gave up and let her come over to help. She has a son my daughters age and so I also knew they would be happy to see each other. After visiting with my baby boy for a bit she just took over and packed up my entire kitchen. In no time at all. My heart was filled with love and gratefulness. I have to add that this is also the same girlfriend who had her husband stop by a couple days after we got home with a big ole' box of gifts and homemade delicious food for us. She knew that if I saw her I would invite her in, but that I wasn't quite ready for visitors so she sent her husband up to drop it off with a note that we would see her soon. She rescued me that morning. And I am forever thankful to her.
By the end of that day we were somehow close to 95% ready for the movers. My husband stepped up huge and practically packed up our entire place. I managed to pack up a few things here and there, but I take no credit for getting us ready. I know how tremendously lucky I am to have such remarkable people in my life. And with that... moving day fast approached. Like it or not. January 14th was upon us.
I will admit, our 1st night at home was R-O-U-G-H. I was prepared for the nursing on demand and knew that I wouldn't be getting much sleep, but for some reason it was just different than when we first arrived home with my daughter. Aside from only being a day old my baby boy already required way more attention... Attention I had absolutely no problem giving, it was just an adjustment phase. Naturally. He needed to be changed with practically every wet diaper because if I wasn't fast enough to change him he would leak. Man, baby boys pee A LOT! And if you don't change fast enough you are surely to get peed on as well! So my awesome husband and I spent most of our nights nursing him, changing his diapers AND jammies and then re-swaddling him, only to do it all over again an hour later. Add to that my baby girl waking up a 5am and wanting to nurse and come to our bed with us... Of course we let her. That 1st night/morning my husband offered to take my baby boy to the couch with him while my baby girl and I nursed and cuddled, but I wasn't about to let that happen. Nope. We all cuddled in our bed and my babies took turns at my breast. And then we tried our best to sleep until at least 7am! Sometimes we'd stretch it to 8! By then I had to get up to make breakfast and start our day... This all sounds pretty normal right? Why would I be sad at all? Well... there were a few bumps in our road ahead.
Because my husband is completely dedicated to his family AND to his job he wasn't able to get out of the already scheduled inventory at his company. Especially since he is the manager and had to be there to supervise his dept. So about 10 days after we returned home he had to go back to work for 3 nights - starting at around 8pm and not returning until somewhere between 2-4am. Which meant I was on my own at bedtime and throughout the night... My daughter was still nursing to sleep as was my son (of course!) and I felt like a complete failure at managing my time between my babies. They both needed me so and I had to make them both feel 100% loved and soothed. I settled for nothing less. Most nights I ended up on the couch, nursing them both after neither one of them would go to sleep. Once my husband was home and in bed he never once hesitated to still get up to help me, which I felt so lucky to have, but of course I made him rest up as much as he could. Mornings came and I would do my best to juggle a crying newborn while making eggs for my baby girl. I wasn't smart enough to have a sling back then so I would just hold him and cook with one hand or put him in his swing and hope and pray he wouldn't cry. Once breakfast was made and my daughter was eating peacefully I could sit and just swoon over my son. And by then my husband insisted on getting up to be there for us and with us throughout the day.
By this time his parents had flown into town to visit their brand new grandson. They were (still are!) so proud. They were staying at a nearby hotel and as soon as everyone was up, dressed and able we would go visit them at their hotel for breakfast or lunch or to simply hang out and visit. Admittedly it was difficult for me to muster up the strength to leave the house... healing after the birth was rougher than I had anticipated. And I was just plain exhausted. Never the less getting outside always felt nice and the fresh air was something we all most definitely needed. And when I felt I just couldn't do it they had no problem coming to us. They spoiled us with love and support and I secretly hoped the birth of their grandson would persuade them to move closer to us... I still haven't given up on that hope.
There was one more bump in the road... We had given notice to move out of our apartment and needed to be out by January 15th. Yep, two weeks after my son was born we had to pack up and get out. And nothing in my apartment was packed. Nothing. I was so not ready for this. It was our decision to move and something we needed to do for financial reasons, but still, I was dreading it. Immensely. I felt at a complete loss. I didn't want to leave it all up to my husband to take care of, even though he was completely willing and able, but there was literally not one single part of me that felt I could handle the stress of it all. Which also made me feel horrible. I am also not very good (at all!) about asking for help. It's just not in my nature... something I need to work on, for sure. So when my amazing friends called and begged to come over and help I repeatedly told him "no thank you". My exceedingly generous IL's (In-Laws) heard we needed to buy a fridge for our apt. and took us shopping to pick one out. They didn't even question it. We needed it? They were going to provide it for us. They also offered to pay for movers when they heard we planned to do it all ourselves.... So we graciously took them up on their offers and tried our best to express our heartfelt gratitude.
Our 2 leases overlapped so we could take our time moving in and we were able to kill 2 birds with one stone by meeting the delivery company for the fridge and the gas company guy all in the same day (at the new apt). My daughter immediately chose the room she wanted and in fact the day we were there waiting she and my husband took a nap together, on the carpet, in the room she still sleeps in today. I wound up taking a little walk with my baby boy while looking around our new neighborhood. Things were looking up.
It was January 13th, the last morning of my husbands inventory and ONE day before our movers were scheduled. And there was still so much to be done. I got a call from a very good girlfriend of mine and I must have been feeling completely vulnerable because after her many offers and persuasions I ultimately gave up and let her come over to help. She has a son my daughters age and so I also knew they would be happy to see each other. After visiting with my baby boy for a bit she just took over and packed up my entire kitchen. In no time at all. My heart was filled with love and gratefulness. I have to add that this is also the same girlfriend who had her husband stop by a couple days after we got home with a big ole' box of gifts and homemade delicious food for us. She knew that if I saw her I would invite her in, but that I wasn't quite ready for visitors so she sent her husband up to drop it off with a note that we would see her soon. She rescued me that morning. And I am forever thankful to her.
By the end of that day we were somehow close to 95% ready for the movers. My husband stepped up huge and practically packed up our entire place. I managed to pack up a few things here and there, but I take no credit for getting us ready. I know how tremendously lucky I am to have such remarkable people in my life. And with that... moving day fast approached. Like it or not. January 14th was upon us.
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