Almost immediately after I gave birth five months ago, I felt like a warrior. My body had done something miraculous – for a second time. My pregnancies were not particularly easy for me. This last go around, I suffered a laundry list of difficulties: all-day sickness for nearly 18 weeks, swollen kidneys that were full of stones, a kidney stent to keep one kidney flowing, surgery to remove said stent, insomnia, and the itching… oh the itching. I don’t relay these challenges to garner any kind of pity; on the contrary, going through all of this made me realize an inner strength I never realized I had.
I was a gladiator who had gone into battle and emerged victorious.
Sleep? Who needs sleep? Not me – it’s just for mere mortals.
Kidney stones? No big deal… I can handle at least 10 of them at a time.
Nausea? I’ll run to the bathroom, get sick, and go back to work like nothing happened.
And birth? Dare I say it, but it almost felt EASY!
I had never felt so strong.
As quickly as I was on top of the world, I was swiftly knocked back down. Just a day or two home from the hospital with my new sweet baby, I began to cry inexplicable tears for seemingly no reason. Every time my husband would ask if I was okay, it was like a dam burst and the tears would flow. I couldn’t explain it. I loved my baby so much – almost to the point where I didn’t even want anyone else to hold him for too long – but yet I was drowning in sadness.
Even after experiencing months of pregnancy insomnia, newborn sleeplessness is a completely different monster – and suddenly my body craved sleep. A few months before, I had been a champion on four hours of sleep, but now, I was a groggy zombie.
Like clockwork, at three months postpartum, my hair began falling out – but not just some random shedding here and there – no, full-on clumps of hair multiple times per day. I developed psoriasis on my scalp that ached to the touch. At 33-years-old, my mom had to help me wash and brush my hair because I was too emotionally unstable to deal with it.
I had never felt so weak. This is the postpartum paradox: powerful strength and utter weakness.
The truth is I am strong. My body overcame a lot of hurdles and gave birth to two healthy, beautiful babies. But the other truth is that I am also weak. I have days where I feel completely overcome and overwhelmed.
That’s motherhood. It’s moments of pure triumph – you finally got the baby to stop crying, you got over the sleep regression, you survived the day. And it’s moments of pure defeat – you were up every hour with a fussy baby, you lost your cool even when you didn’t mean to, you had to carry a kicking and screaming toddler out of a public place.
This postpartum period can be so full of magic: snuggles, the new baby smell, and those precious first smiles. And it can also be full of a lot of mayhem: delirium from sleep deprivation, a messy house, interrupted routines and schedules.
I don’t have any real solutions; I’m in the thick of it myself. Here’s my greatest advice for those of you right here with me: ask for help when you find yourself in those moments of what feels like defeat. Celebrate the moments of triumph. Soak it all in – the good and the bad. Because, like all of the stages, this one too is fleeting.
