Story #72 - Postpartum Pandemic Stories - Sara, Michigan (USA) - On Having a Baby During a Pandemic, "Sleep When Baby Sleeps", Anxiety, Depression & Being a Nurse During COVID
I found out I was pregnant on a trip to Alaska. Palmer was one of the towns we visited, so we named our son after it.
He was born in January, in the middle of the flu and RSV seasons. January in northern Michigan is quite intense, so we were already isolated and didn't go out much... or so I thought. My pregnancy with Palmer was pretty easy. We did not try for a long time to have him, and aside from the standard discomfort of being pregnant, nothing major happened. We're lucky. I had a long 30-hour labor, but he was born vaginally, healthy, and perfect.
I used to take him to stores or go over to friends, but not anymore. My mother, who lives nearby, works in a doctor's office and can be exposed, but before the pandemic hit, she still came over. My husband is a physical therapist, so he's in the same situation.
Now with this virus, I've never seen so much of my own house.
The first couple of weeks of his life were hard. I remember coming back home with him from the hospital and not being sure what I was supposed to do. I couldn't sleep because I was worried that he was going to wake up and then I wouldn't be able to rest. Then this virus hit, and I had nothing to do and nowhere to go.
He's a difficult baby with lots of colics and reflux. By week two, he would spend days crying, and all our efforts went towards trying to soothe him. When he'd finally fall asleep, it would be time to feed him again.
Oh, the things I said I would never do and ended up doing out of exhaustion! I was not going to cosleep, and we ended up having him propped on a pillow between us in bed.
I think I spent as much time crying as the baby did.
Everybody tells you to sleep when the baby sleeps: that statement is now my enemy. My son won't sleep, so what am I supposed to do?
I struggled with anxiety and depression before. I've been on medication throughout my whole pregnancy, and that helped. I was doing fine before my son arrived because I didn't have as much stress, and I was still working.
Stillness makes me anxious. This is why I like to work; it keeps my mind busy.
I had 12 weeks of maternity leave that is about to come to an end. I'm a nurse, and I love it. But I'm terrified to get back to work.
I'm actually ok with that amount of maternity leave. I thrive in a routine, and I'm ready to get back to a schedule. We're fortunate that I work three twelve-hour shifts per week, and my husband, four ten-hour. It means that we'll only need someone to watch him one day a week. We have enough family in the area, and my sister will come and live with us to help.
Part of me is looking forward to my job, but I'm so, so afraid I'm going to be exposed and will bring the virus back to him. We have a little apartment attached to the house, and I'm seriously considering living there. I'll pump my milk and hand it to my husband.
I will be exempt from caring for COVID patients because I'm nursing, but our unit will be taking care of some of them. Between wanting to be in the trenches with my colleagues, longing to be back to my old self, and fearing for my son's life, it's an impossible place to be.
To be honest, I also don't want to be separated from him and not be able to hold him. Can you imagine that? Living in another part of the house? At this age, he starts doing more and more, and I don't want to miss any of it.
Being postpartum at this specific time is so out of the norm. It’s really hard to know what can or will happen, which makes it even more difficult for someone like me, who’s an over-planner: I expected—and still expect—things to go a certain way. When they don't—or I expect they won't!—I become incredibly stressed.
I'm battling with a sense of guilt and failure because of this. I'd planned for this time in my life, and I thought I'd prepared for every option. But not that. Not a pandemic and reflux and constant crying.
I often feel that my baby is so miserable because I'm so bad at being his mom.
But he wouldn't sleep on his back. Then he'd cry for hours, get overly tired, and in the end, not sleep at all. We'd all end up sleep-deprived, and I would come out of this feeling like a failure: failure for not following the rules, and failure for not being able to soothe him.
Whereas I research and analyze, my husband goes with the flow. To some degree, it's healthy because it helps to level me out. On the other hand, it drives me crazy. In my head, I think, "Why aren't you more worried about all this!?" I don't think he—or any other partner for that matter—can truly grasp what women after giving birth are going through.
Our latest battle has been getting our son to take a bottle. I'm going back to work soon, and he simply has to. But he's pretty resistant, and that's just a new thing my anxiety has latched on. He needs to be able to eat, and I'm driving myself crazy with that. Plus, if he can take a bottle, I can get a little bit of my life back.
I'd love to be able to drive without being worried that he's going to scream in the back of the car. This bottle isn't just for him; it's for me too!
Of course, I also feel guilty about that because I believe that I shouldn't want to be away from him. But... gosh, I do!
On the days he screams so much, I just want to get away. From the house, from the sound, from everything. I've left him in a safe place a couple of times and walked away. I closed the door and went to another part of the house. It's always harder when I'm home alone.
It wasn't too long ago that I went upstairs to the guest bedroom and plugged my ears so I couldn't hear him anymore. I needed not to hear him for a minute. It felt awful, but at the same time, I knew that if I didn't get away, my stress and anxiety would have made it worse. And what're a few minutes of screaming. It won't hurt him. Right?
They say, "A calmer self means a calmer baby," but not always. He screams when he's dry, and I'm holding him. He screams when he's swaddled, and I'm standing. What more do does he want from me?
In a way, I'm grieving the nice first weeks not only because of the pandemic but because of how hard this is. It makes it tough because I wonder if it's not going to become another chip on my shoulder. Why would I willingly put myself through that again?
But you never know. Hopefully, things will get better, and at least now I know what to expect. I have more tools in my toolbox.
(Family photo)
This too shall pass, but in the meantime, I'll have a little bit of a break when I go back to work. My husband will have a go at it. Maybe he'll see what I've been going through. The splendid days! You don't want to think about it as a little revenge... but you do.
The boob is so convenient for a partner. Baby cries? Let's get the boob! Well, the boob is about to go away, and I'm looking forward to not always have to be the first respondent.
I've always loved being a caregiver at work. In the unit I work in, we see some of the sickest of the sick. We attend lots of deaths, but there're also many good things happening. Emotionally, it's very hard, but it's incredibly rewarding. I run around all day, draining myself, but I thrive on that physical and intellectual exhaustion. And I think that having a child of my own, now, will make me a better caregiver.
Being away from him for the first few days will be hard, I'm sure, but I'm looking forward to working because I know it'll make me happier to see him when I get home at the end of the day.
We live in a rural area, and our hospital is the biggest around. It's a madhouse right now. We get patients from everywhere around the peninsula. The hospitals down the state are already overwhelmed, so there won't be any ability to ship patients like we used to.
Or maybe we'll be lucky, and it'll be over by the time I go back.
I know, I know... it's wishful thinking.
UPDATE 5.13.2020
Sara wrote to me before I publish her story with this message. I’m copying it with permission:
I started back at work and have been a little busier! Thankfully the virus didn't explode up here like it did in other areas. I still come home from work scared every day though that I've somehow been exposed and will pass it to my little man. The isolation is still really tough. I haven't been anywhere but work and home in weeks. Not seeing my family is super tough. I feel like Palmer is growing up and everyone I love is missing it. He's doing really well though. He's getting super big, loves talking and babbling, and giggles like crazy!