The difference between what we expect and what actually happens is something I have a hard time balancing and figuring out.
In the weeks and months after I had Nicolas, I struggled with Post Partum Depression. I feel like it was largely a result of my extreme imbalance between my expectations of how life should be and how life really was. I was overwhelming myself and beating myself up over inflated, unrealistic, and self imposed expectations on how my house looked, my children were interacted with, and my husband was taken care of. Thankfully I was able to see that I needed help, ask for it, and get it. But the memories of who I was in that time and how I felt still make me so sad and played a huge part in our discussions on when and if we wanted to have more children.
Obviously, the good out-weighed the PPD in that department as we have been enjoying sweet Emerson as part of our family the past few weeks.
However, I can't forget that I am "officially" at risk for developing PPD and I am hyper aware of my feelings and expectations. It is hard, especially after an amazing birth, my quick healing (I seriously feel great), and Em and I easily establishing breastfeeding (after that first rough weekend) to keep my expectations realistic.
For example, and this isn't meant to be whiny in any way, I am seven pounds from my pre-baby weight. Not saying that weight was amazing or anything, but still, only seven pounds away from a good starting point to lose more. And I am itching, seriously itching, to go for a run. Hit the neighborhood gym and get on the elliptical. Finally get started on the Brazillian Butt Lift series.
But then the visiting nurse oh-so-gently reminded me today: I am only two weeks out from having a baby. No sane doctor will clear me for at LEAST another two weeks if not four. I am supposed to be healing (even if I feel awesome, my body still is adjusting). I am supposed to be resting. Feet up, drinking lots of water, sleeping when baby sleeps, stay in my pj's all day if I want to resting. I am not supposed to be restless. And so I have to look at what I am expecting of myself (drop those 7 pounds ASAP and get back to the gym) and then the reality (see above re: healing and recovering). And it is hard.
Throw in that, then add in the boys, the house, Andy and his job, and suddenly there is a long, demanding list of what I want/feel/need to happen and all the self-imposed pressure to make it happen. So I am working on relaxing more and planning/stressing/expecting less. I go back to remembering the awesome Saturday we had a few weeks ago before Em was born and how we had zero expectations for the day and it turned out to be an awesome day for the family. I try to let it slide that my floors haven't been cleaning for a few days (it's not like we eat off them, right?). And as long as we have clean clothes, it is probably ok that they don't quite make it into the drawers. I will get back to the treadmill and workout routine. But for now I need to cuddle my sweet baby because he will grow up so quick. And even though my two big boys are SO grown up, they are still just seven and four, so not quite ready to tackle all of life's day-to-day challenges on their own just yet. And they need some TLC from momma, too. So a little later bedtime, a little longer reading books, and maybe one more time walking around the block together will be good for all of us.
I am keeping a big, wary, eye out for anything that even remotely resembles PPD because if it happens again, I want to catch it before I become that person I was after Nic was born. And maybe that is just yet another crazy expectation (catching it, catching it early, etc) but it is one that it at the top of my list. Because I much prefer to be blissed out and happy with my family than anything else.
In the weeks and months after I had Nicolas, I struggled with Post Partum Depression. I feel like it was largely a result of my extreme imbalance between my expectations of how life should be and how life really was. I was overwhelming myself and beating myself up over inflated, unrealistic, and self imposed expectations on how my house looked, my children were interacted with, and my husband was taken care of. Thankfully I was able to see that I needed help, ask for it, and get it. But the memories of who I was in that time and how I felt still make me so sad and played a huge part in our discussions on when and if we wanted to have more children.
Obviously, the good out-weighed the PPD in that department as we have been enjoying sweet Emerson as part of our family the past few weeks.
However, I can't forget that I am "officially" at risk for developing PPD and I am hyper aware of my feelings and expectations. It is hard, especially after an amazing birth, my quick healing (I seriously feel great), and Em and I easily establishing breastfeeding (after that first rough weekend) to keep my expectations realistic.
For example, and this isn't meant to be whiny in any way, I am seven pounds from my pre-baby weight. Not saying that weight was amazing or anything, but still, only seven pounds away from a good starting point to lose more. And I am itching, seriously itching, to go for a run. Hit the neighborhood gym and get on the elliptical. Finally get started on the Brazillian Butt Lift series.
But then the visiting nurse oh-so-gently reminded me today: I am only two weeks out from having a baby. No sane doctor will clear me for at LEAST another two weeks if not four. I am supposed to be healing (even if I feel awesome, my body still is adjusting). I am supposed to be resting. Feet up, drinking lots of water, sleeping when baby sleeps, stay in my pj's all day if I want to resting. I am not supposed to be restless. And so I have to look at what I am expecting of myself (drop those 7 pounds ASAP and get back to the gym) and then the reality (see above re: healing and recovering). And it is hard.
Throw in that, then add in the boys, the house, Andy and his job, and suddenly there is a long, demanding list of what I want/feel/need to happen and all the self-imposed pressure to make it happen. So I am working on relaxing more and planning/stressing/expecting less. I go back to remembering the awesome Saturday we had a few weeks ago before Em was born and how we had zero expectations for the day and it turned out to be an awesome day for the family. I try to let it slide that my floors haven't been cleaning for a few days (it's not like we eat off them, right?). And as long as we have clean clothes, it is probably ok that they don't quite make it into the drawers. I will get back to the treadmill and workout routine. But for now I need to cuddle my sweet baby because he will grow up so quick. And even though my two big boys are SO grown up, they are still just seven and four, so not quite ready to tackle all of life's day-to-day challenges on their own just yet. And they need some TLC from momma, too. So a little later bedtime, a little longer reading books, and maybe one more time walking around the block together will be good for all of us.
I am keeping a big, wary, eye out for anything that even remotely resembles PPD because if it happens again, I want to catch it before I become that person I was after Nic was born. And maybe that is just yet another crazy expectation (catching it, catching it early, etc) but it is one that it at the top of my list. Because I much prefer to be blissed out and happy with my family than anything else.
I know the feeling of wanting to be back in your clothes and looking good after baby. I couldn't even fit in the yoga pants that I wore into the hospital to give birth! Knowing I use to have eating issues and obsess made me very aware of how I was treating my body since I was breastfeeding. I chose not to focus on my weight buy some larger yoga pants and when the Dr. cleared me Ev and I went on walks. Just enjoy your baby. A little extra is good for feeding and snuggles=)
ReplyDeleteLove you!