I had originally written this post a few years back when I had just had my second daughter, so I had to do some revisions as well as adding more to the original post. This post started about three weeks after having my second daughter. The original post will be centered where the additional information will be shown as left aligned. I hope you like this one because it was written with the emotions I had then (in that moment) with a little more emotions now in reminiscing…
The nights seem to be shorter than ever; I wouldn't say its necessarily because its more tiring but it really oddly does feel like the days have seemed to be dragging out a lot now. I guess I shouldn’t complain though since it gives me so much daylight with both my girls. The youngest is growing expeditiously, it seems almost impossible to tell that she's still a newborn baby meanwhile my oldest daughter is trying to cope with the new changes going on in her life. Specifically being that Mommy is resting a lot and not doing as many things with her throughout the day as before; I've forced myself to be moving around probably more than I should because I know my oldest needs me. Breast feeding has been going well and the little one’s appetite continues to grow every day. She’s really been working herself a little more here and there to her feeding needing to transition into milk that’s more substantial. It's amazing to notice all of the changes in my girls and within myself, but more importantly the changes from being a mom the first get go to being a mom the second time around. What do I mean?
So the nights during my first daughter’s new life was a lot more exhausting, for lack of a better way to explain it. I'm going to deduce that the reason for that during my first daughter’s feeding was more because of the stress I was under and also the overall recovery from the surgery itself. Therefore nightly feedings then were more groggy and tended to entail more sleep throughout the night. I vividly remember always needing help; whether it was my mother getting the milk ready or doing the feeding herself while I was the one doing the milk prepping. Other nights I couldn't do either because I might've pushed myself harder through the day and I was just too exhausted at night; that's when my mom would do everything for the feeding time herself. See it was a little bit after arriving home from the hospital that I got to really begin breast feeding my oldest; sadly though because of the delivery I didn’t have the most memorable of feedings since it involved a rented out breast pump and I was nowhere near to producing the breast milk my baby needed. Formula was going to have to be used early on for her…
You see, the day I was to be discharged from the hospital they told me, that because of the magnesium that was used during my emergency c-section, the milk production wasn’t going to be the same or as usual for me and my daughter-but for me to not worry that babies thrive without concern even if little to no breastmilk is provided to them. That every drop I would give my daughter was necessary and vital for her growth, immunity, and for my continual milk production. For my health and well being I needed to get all the milk I would produce out as well, otherwise I could risk some health concerns in my breasts if I didn't. I don’t know how many reading are moms who have had a similar occurrence or have been told worse; perhaps know someone who’s gone through that but even after all the emotional roll-a-coaster I had nothing could keep my heart from dropping all over again. I felt a little bit like a zombie as everything was being explained to me. I mean what else could I do right?…I remember the moment the lactation nurse left, my tears I held in check finally fell down my cheeks. I had already gone through so much emotionally with the birth and the both of our physical healing post-partum, why couldn't it get a little easier now that the worst was over for both of us...I went into the bathroom in the hospital recovery room to gather myself because I know that my little one would be arriving and my family would be soon in my room too. To ensure that I would do as instructed I ended up renting a breast pump machine to take home. No matter the stories of all the women before you (of for those of you who bothered reading any of those maternity books because I definitely didn't), nothing and no one prepares you for the heart wrenching feeling you have as a new mom who can't feed her baby...I used to have countless feeding times or the times on the breast pump where I would cry in silence because I felt like I was only providing, not even half, of what my baby really needed from me. My oldest, to young and too soon got accustomed to baby formula. It wasn't until her three month check up that the pediatrician really explained to me how vital a mother's breast milk was to the newborn regardless of it's quantity, as long as it was directly coming from me.
This time around I guess you could say that I'm actually enjoying the afterglow of pregnancy and post delivery. Yes I'm exhausted but I'm also euphoric because this time around I'm partaking in more things that unfortunately I wasn't able to fully enjoy or appreciate until it was already too late with my oldest, post delivery. Night feedings with my oldest didn't last long because she would be more full due to the formula milk so that in turn put her into a steady schedule for sleeping through the night from a month on. Granted this time around I don't get to sleep as much during the night because my youngest is always hungry and my milk production continues for her. But whether my youngest or oldest, I have to say there is something truly enchanting when you see this new baby's eyes looking up at you around 2am in the morning...Her trusting eyes look at me knowing that there's some kind of time difference for her compared to the day, but there's so much unknown trust and love for you as she's looking at you. No one can can begin to fathom unless or until they have their child in their arms. There were minimal or more like close to no "hard nights" as many other women say or tell. I was blessed with the wisdom my mother and grandmother gave me, so both my daughters have been sleeping beautifully through the night. Although, I can probably count on one hand the difficult nights that I had with both of them. That's when it hit me, to write about one of the few occurrences where it was both hard and emotional for me...
One night (about a month and a half after my youngest's birth) it was the feeding time for my youngest. My mother had already helped so much and I frankly didn't feel like waking up ex husband (now anyway because we were married at that time) because I didn't feel like dealing with his half efforts. If you're thinking or asking, yes he was helpful to a very small extent; he would do something than either go back to sleep or he would be half asleep doing something that I needed done five minutes ago (men when they try, they just need to frankly try harder-no offense guys). My newest little one was wailing her head off she was so hungry, so I tried to make sure that she wasn't waking anyone up...My little one apparently woke up with a tummy who was starving! So I wasn't able to pump the milk in advance as I was usually doing, so out came out the breast and I began to breast fed her straight. I automatically knew in that moment that it wasn't going to be an easy feeding time for her and that I would have to war up a formula milk to "top her off". However, that didn't help in my already over stressed like feeling from earlier that week. I was so stressed that week so my milk production wasn't that high as normal. The moment I was adjusting myself in the sitting position, her little mouth on my breast was dislodged from it's location; so the moment I took baby girl away from my breast she started to cry. I quickly made sure that all doors were closed and that the people I didn't want to wake up wouldn't be awoken by her cry's. I started to warm up the milk and my baby kept wailing out loud, everything that would help her for a bit didn't help.
She was inconsolable even the moment that the milk bottle was ready. I had to try to calm her before even giving her the bottle so that she would take it. I remember that I started to tear up, that I felt the tears rolling down my cheeks as I watched her finally suckling on the bottle nipple. I began to cry harder as I caressed the right side of her face while she ate. I started imagining the moms with no help or assistance from anyone/family...I started thinking about the women who were as surprised as I was when I was first pregnant - you don't really know what to do...How they must feel in their desperation to console and provide for the baby but feel has if they have nothing to offer due to the circumstances.
I hope that someone gives them the support they need. That someone can give them hope. That someone can tell them, it's ok. It's hard but it's ok. You're doing the best that you could be doing and don't think that it isn't enough! I couldn't help but cry more on thinking how difficult it could or must feel for a mom who can't produce breast milk and instead spends so much money on formula. I hope and pray for the women, who doesn't get to feel the most intimate of moments with your baby as you breast feed them-it's ok if you didn't or don't-it doesn't make you less of a mom and your baby knows you love them. I pray for the moms who do it alone-that they can find hope and know their rainbows will come and the hard days will walk hand in hand with the good. I hope that the moms who've loved and lost their little ones-without experiencing the full extents of motherhood-know that you're baby is in a beautiful place and there's nothing wrong with still remembering them, it wasn't anything that you did wrong...for the moms who see no hope in conception, there's always adoption-so many children who have always wished for the warm embrace of a loving parent, they may be the perfect fit for you. In general, moms need hope, love, support, and a caring touch too...
Sincerely,
A Distinct Woman
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