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So, my official position is that recovery from birth sucks. But, it’s also sort of amazing.
The first ten days of postpartum recovery were hard. Really hard. I do not deal well with anesthesia and definitely felt some postpartum crazy, even though I had a better experience. My limbs were tingly, my heart rate was really low (down into the 60s), and blood pressure was slightly elevated. This was all stuff that I dealt with during postpartum with Ezra, so it was very frightening at first. But I just kept telling myself that I KNOW my hemoglobin levels were good upon discharge this time and that it would just take time. Instead of freaking out, I tried to get out of the house and walk a little bit on the hard days to help get my body back to normal.
(Baby’s first trip to the park, 6 days postpartum)
(8 days postpartum, after a trip to the store)
(Walked my first mile! 10 days postpartum.)
I also had some bad dreams and anxiety about things like the baby dying, but it was much easier to combat this time around by attacking those thoughts with truth. There was also lots of crying. Thank you hormones.
I started feeling sane and “back to normal” (ish) at day 10. I am fully functional again as far as movement, my stomach muscles are only slightly sore. Honestly, it’s the back that hurts the most, from carrying around a 10 pound baby and nursing so much. I’ve also already lost about 30 out of the 53 pounds I gained. Wowza. Thank you water weight!
(This was taken today at 2 weeks, 1 day postpartum. I barely recognize myself!)
It’s still so crazy to me that I was pregnant just a little over two weeks ago. It seriously feels like another lifetime ago. I still get overwhelmed at times, trying to recover and make sure I’m taking care of myself while still making sure that the family is at least remaining clothed, fed, and on somewhat of a schedule.
Russell’s anxiety is high, but we are working through it. We saw our marriage counsellor and were able to work through some things and speak more honestly with each other about this transition. It’s been helpful (and restful) having him home, especially when it comes to dishes, running errands, and dealing with Ezra. We’ve taken lots of naps and spent a good chunk of time binge-watching Once Upon a Time from our couch, but I’m ready to get back into a more predictable routine. Russ will go back to work this coming week (right now he has off through Wednesday, but might go back earlier).
Ezra is nice and gentle with the baby except for putting toys in/on his face. But he’s acting out in other areas, and won’t listen or comply to instructions at all. We have to get firm and threaten discipline just to get him to do anything right now. I’ll be looking at him saying, “Ezra go do this right now,” and he will just stare at me either grinning or with an angry face on. Then he’ll get upset when we are firm with him. So I’m not feeling as much love as I would like for my sweet eldest right now. I know it’s just a phase (and an expected one at that), but it’s still hard. He’s in school six hours a day, which helps, and his teacher says he’s doing great. They haven’t seen that many negative behaviors like they expected.
I try to make sure I give him a little one-on-one time each day, as well as time with the baby, but I definitely feel like I’m not as mentally present with him and for him as I would like to be and normally am. (I keep reminding myself that these transitions and changes take time.)
Little Brother is great. He is up to 10 pounds 9 ounces. He sleeps a ton, gives me 3-4 hour stretches at night (which Big Brother never did!). He also usually takes a 3 hour nap some point during the day too. The rest of the day he nurses every 1-1.5 hours, but I don’t mind because he’s so easy the rest of the time.
(For now at least.)
(When he’s not drowning me in bodily fluids, that is.)
(Yes, there’s baby pee on my pajama pants.)