The Recovery Is Kind Of A Big Deal.

Someone I love just told me that she is pregnant.  I am so happy for her.  As we talked she asked questions like, "what's been the hardest part about having a baby?"  I told her, "the emotional recovery" and described how that 'time of the month' you just feel kinda 'off'.  Take that and times it by 50.  Then I talked about some of the joys because I felt the need to balance out that comment with some of the good stuff....because there's sure a lot of good stuff too.  I think it's hard to know how much to talk about the hard parts.  I mean really, I don't want to freak anyone out, make them feel afraid of having kids.

What I really thought about answering to her question was, "well, it's actually going to rock your freaking world."  But I didn't know if that would be terribly helpful.

A couple years ago a friend asked me,  "which one is harder, having a baby or doing an ironman?"  I thought about that question here and there while I was pregnant, still not sure what the answer to that was.  Now I have my answer, "the ironman was harder but the recovery is harder from having a baby."  

Keep in mind, that I am comparing a 16 hour ironman where I got extremely sick on the marathon and finished much slower than hoped to an uncomplicated labour that progressed beautifully and was full of support and joy, resulting in a healthy baby and momma.  Certainly every ironman is not harder than every labour and delivery.  This is just my experience.

My little Ivy Grace was born at 11:25 in my bath tub.  A planned home birth.  It was better than I ever imagined a home birth would be.  I had been resistant to the idea of a home birth for the first half of my pregnancy but my views shifted when we spent a day in the hospital around Christmas time for Kyla to have ear surgery.  I realized that I didn't really like hospitals after all.  Certainly they serve an important purpose but I was confident that my birth would go well and felt that a hospital wasn't necessary for me and my baby.
The birth did go incredibly well.  So has the recovery but it's a major ordeal to recover from having a baby.  As I've shared bits and pieces of my recovery with other women, some of them have been surprised and maybe even comforted to know that they aren't the only one who finds this stage hard.  So that got me thinking that I wanted to write a post about the recovery...

There I lay at 3 am on Feb 28th, in a maxi pad that might as well be called a diaper, pondering on the incredible events of the past 16 hours.  It was hard to believe that now I had a baby in my house.  My baby.  That I had finally delivered her. That I was no longer pregnant.  An incredible cocktail of relief, joy, awe and love mixed in with some nervousness about the next stage of life to come.

I remembered reading that newborns usually get a really long stretch of sleep after the delivery.  That it was important for mom to sleep during this time, to also recover.  But I felt like I had just come off of one of the most incredible experiences of my life. An endorphin high.  My uterus was cramping, my back was aching, my bottom was tender, my hormones were undergoing a major shift and I had just met my little baby girl, my daughter.  How on earth was I supposed to just relax and go to sleep?  I knew I was going to need time to heal, recover and adjust to this new stage of life.

It's been quite a ride so far.  Having a baby and caring for a baby is an extremely spiritual experience for me.  Heaven feels closer, God feels closer, angels seem to be watching over me and my little girl.  It's a time filled with simple sweetness.  I love those moments of feeding and snuggling my little baby.  I love how life seems to just slow down.  There are funny moments too, like at dinner when Riley points to me and says, "mom, your breasts are leaking."

There are also hard moments.  Like last night at 2:15 when Ivy woke up crying.  I had been up until midnight, crying and talking to Adam. At times, I cry for no reason, but this time I cried because it was only a few days until Adam went back to work and I felt nervous about 'doing it all alone.'  I also felt this deep ache to be taken care of.  To be held by someone, looked after.  Strange the things we crave emotionally after having babies, isn't it?  The care of my midwives had been so amazing.  I ached for more of that care, as I gave so much in caring for my baby.  I pictured myself laying on the couch, being held by my midwife and that image brought me to tears.  Then for the first time since Ivy had been born, she threw us a curve ball and every time we set her down, she woke up crying 15 min later.  We racked our brains, "was it the lasagna I ate bothering her tummy, is she growing, is it gas....".  Finally at 5:30 she went to sleep for reals.  Had to reach deeper into my reserves of patience and optimism to get through that night.

This raw emotion has washed over me many times since delivery.  Sometimes coming without warning and sometimes for no apparent reason, other than a strong feeling that I just need to cry and let it all out.  Apparently day 3 is a common day for strong emotions.  It sure was for me.  I sat on my couch, feeding Ivy, while my family was at church and the tears flowed.  This time, it had a lot to do with feeling so loved.  It spoke to the deep ache I felt.  The ache to be cared for.  I kept thinking about how one of the midwives was coming soon to visit and that I should really pull myself together so I wasn't a blubbering mess when she arrived.  But then I thought of her womanly care.  Full of compassion and wisdom and the tears would roll again.  I managed to stop the tears when she arrived but partway through the visit, they flowed again.  She was kind and understanding, not judgemental.  "Crying is a right of passage on the day three visit", she said.  "We are surprised if a mom doesn't cry when we visit on day three."

"I know this is normal for me", I explained.  "I remember this raw emotion after having my last two."

I have a good friend who checks in with me every day. On day three, I started dialing her number and cried as soon as I pressed the buttons.  After hearing my tears she responded, "it's one of those days, isn't it?"  I was crying because I knew she would love me, wouldn't judge.  Also, wouldn't worry about me.  Because she knows, as well as I know, that this will pass for me.  I've never had post partum depression but I certainly get the baby blues.

Another interesting part of the recovery has been the need to process my labour and delivery.  I have replayed it over and over in my head.  Sorting it through.  Longing to experience some of the amazing parts again.  Basking in the love and support I felt through it all. Feeling so proud of how I embraced and managed it. Coming down off a euphoric high and trying to find peace with the experience and move forward.

Having an "audience" to my birth was something new for me.  I loved the support of my mom, mother in law and especially the midwives but I was used to just having Adam as my support in the past and I felt somewhat vulnerable about how they perceived my "performance".  I know it's not a performance and I know I had nothing to prove but I still felt this need to be told by everyone that I had done a good job.  That I had coped well and maybe even impressed them.  Silly desire, but there it was anyways.  I thought this through and came to realize that I only needed to seek affirmations from myself and from God.  That their perception of the experience was not so important and I didn't need to crave their praise.  I also felt this need to connect with my caregiver.  My midwife had been amazing, especially in the final moments of pushing.  I suppose she had become a hero to me in those moments.  So I wrote her a letter, called it my 'creepy love letter' and she was kind and loving in reading it.  I remember after having Riley, going back to the hospital to see the nurse who had attended my birth.  I thought she would be thrilled to see us, that I had made such a lasting impression on her with my natural child birth, which she had said she rarely saw in the hospital anymore.  Not so.  It was a hilarious and awkward experience, as she pretended to know who we were and we pretended it was no biggie.

I know as I heal physically, I will also heal emotionally.  Engorged breasts, tender cracking nipples, blood flow, cramping uterus, aching back, as well as a host of unseen adjustments that my brain oversees, as hormones, organs and cells all heal from the pregnancy and adjust back to "normal".  These changes and adjustments take time.  I am more patient with this healing process, as a mom of three.  It's still hard but I have more maturity and patience with the process.  I respect it and understand that I am normal, that these challenges are normal, that it won't be like this forever, that it's ok if at moments I feel overwhelmed, overtired, and emotional.  These are steps and stages of healing.

To all moms reading this, you are amazing for what you do to bring life into the world.  
Ivy Grace Layton, I do this all for you.  I love you.  I am honored to be your mother.