The Newborn Trenches
A newborn is defined as the first 28 days of life, though, the term is often used to measure the first three months of life.
The first three. months.
If you haven’t experienced this season of life with a newborn I can’t exactly describe it to you. Every postpartum experience is so unique and brings its own challenges. But I know other mothers can relate to the phenomenon that occurs the first time you hear your baby cry.
That first cry. Makes you cry. It hits you right in the gut. It changes you on a cellular level. You will never be the same person you were again.
It happens so fast. Seconds. And the person you knew you’ve been your whole life is dead, respectfully. And a new person is born. Well, two.
Once you’re in the mother-baby room you finally meet the person you shared your body with for the past 9 months. You realise all the nausea, pain, tiredness, swelling, and all the other horrendous pregnancy symptoms were all worth it. Actually, you could endure worse if it meant that your baby was the outcome.
What you thought was love before, aint sh*t in comparison.
That ex boyfriend that left your heartbroken for months? Seems like a middle school crush now.
Obviously this isn’t a romantic kind of love. Not even the love you necessarily have for your own mother. You ARE the mother. THAT is your baby. You would move mountains for this little tiny human that they just emergency ejected out of your body.
Then you come home.
It’s hard to remember myself at this time. I feel terrible for my husband who was only doing his best, but he didn’t understand no matter how hard he tried.
It hurts to move, but you have to feed the baby. It hurts to move, but you have diapers to change. It hurts to move and you haven’t slept a full nights sleep since sometime during your pregnancy, but the baby needs you. And you do it. Now, a baby needing you so much doesn’t cause frustration. In my case anyway, don’t forget, we’re all experiencing the same thing in different fonts. I was never frustrated. But I was alone. I was alone in a house with my husband, baby, and my own mother who came to help out. I went somewhere else. I couldn’t tell you where exactly. But the happy-go-lucky, sweet, kind woman I claim to be before slowly faded away in those weeks to come.
I cried. And cried. And cried.
You wake up surround by night bottles, there’s always a dirty diaper somewhere you forgot about, you look at the clock and it’s 2:00pm and you realise you haven’t eaten yet, there’s always 100 things to do and you’re wearing yourself thin trying to do it all.
I cried because I was tired. I cried because I was alone, I cried because my daughter saw me cry.
It came in waves then slowly dug it’s claws into me and started to become me. I didn’t feel like me. I didn’t look like me. So where did I go? Mind you, the love I spoke about previously for this new baby in your life is still there. It fuels your soul, but for some reason it doesn’t pull you out of the dark.
And you have to keep going. These are the newborn trenches.
Some stay here for a long while. Some never come back. I saw a video come across my tiktok one afternoon. The video probably found me with unwashed hair and tears in my eyes considering that was my uniform during this time. But, the video struck a cord with me. The video told me to fight back.
Fight back against your postpartum monkey on your back. Fight back.
FIGHT! BACK!
HELLO. Why did I even need that wakeup call? I know I’m not the only one who does. And that’s why I wanted to share the message.
I started small. I had my baby in the dead heat of a Georgia summer. So we were stuck inside but, I would put on a bathing suite and sit on my back porch and pretend I was at the beach. I would SWEAT, but feeling the sun on my skin and the refreshing breezes that very sparingly passed over my skin felt…. good. I would put on some music and grab a ice cold water or redbull and just sit. I got a great tan if anything. But this caused a butterfly effect.
I would sweat. Then I would have to shower. Then I would have to put on clean clothes. Then after doing this for a while I felt better on the inside.
Now this isn’t a how-to guide to beat the baby blues. This is just my experience. There’s a hundred ways this could look. Whatever is time for you. Your “me” time. You do a small window of it every day and then like everyone says it DOES get easier.
Here I am writing now my baby several months old and I’m able to look back and reflect on those times as a completely different person. You can too. You just have to fight. And we’re all here for you.
Speak to other mothers you know about how you feel. They will understand. They have lived through this season too.
Much love ladies,
Z-Mom