3 weeks 3 days

I'm finally able to share this. Before you read this very very honest confession that I wrote almost a month ago, know that I am better. I am joyful. I look at my daughter and think she is lovely and have to actively stop myself from kissing her all day. 

Still, I think this might help some new parents to know that they are not alone. So I share it, now as different person that the one who wrote it. It is ok to let yourself vocalize these things. I had to before I could let it go.

My days are a blur, and I dread the night. This morning, I had a machine strapped to my breasts milking me while I awkwardly leaned over my coffee table in an attempt to eat breakfast with my free hand alternating between bouncing my 3 week old daughter and editing photos on my laptop.  If that sounds insane, that’s because it is.
I am going insane.
Last night, she ate at around 2 hour intervals… which left me about an hour available for sleep between feeding sessions IF I could fall asleep. Every time I feed her, she is gassy and scream/cries approximately 20 minutes afterwards. Not FOR 20 minutes (the time is indefinite), 20 minutes LATER she will cry. Let’s do some math, if the child is eating at 2 hour intervals from start to start and eats for about 20 minutes, gets burped for 5-10, is soothed to sleep for 5-10, and then wakes up gassy and fussy needing to be put down again, that leaves a window of 20 minutes for sleep, followed by a second window of 1 hour and 10 minutes MINUS the time it takes to get gassy girl to be quiet.
Sometimes, I am just awake for the entire 2 hours and it begins again.
During the day, I usually sit with the baby in our living room with the windows drawn (since I have to pull a boob out at regular intervals), and “calming” music playing. Here’s the thing, when your child will only sleep in a room with white noise, there is never a moment of silence.
I have an eternal headache.
As an extrovert, with the need to achieve, the whole alone-in-a-dark-room-all-day thing is really really depressing. Sure, I could get out while Margo is napping, but then I would have to sacrifice my own ability to nap while she is napping… even if it is light and fitful. Also, I would have to cry in front of strangers. That is such a buzzkill.
I was so focused on labor and delivery that I didn’t give much thought to what it would be like afterwards. Pregnancy is hard. Delivery is harder than pregnancy, and life with a newborn is infinitely harder than delivery.
Maybe I will post this someday later when I can put a positive spin on things. People say that this will get better, but right now, I’m living in anticipation of the stress in the minutes to come. I find myself watching the count down clock in my breastfeeding app, begging it to slow down so that I can get away.
I would never leave my family, but now I understand why someone would. It’s not even about them. It’s about me. I am selfish. I want to be my own person and do what I want, when I want. I want to sleep through my daughter’s screams. I can’t… but I want to. I want to go to the freaking mall and get some clothes that hide my postpartum belly flab, are suitable for nursing, and are not sweatpants and t-shirts. I want to take back my “mom bob” haircut, as someone so graciously called it, and look like myself again.
Eveything is stripped away.
I am complete emotional nerve endings… like my daughter.

Good news! At 7 weeks, Margo is sleeping much longer during the night, and we are getting adequate sleep. She is smiling. It is amazing. 

I have much more freedom to leave the house since she does wonderfully in her car seat and takes bottles easily. I feel like myself. It's a new me, but I like her.