Reading List: The First Year of Motherhood

This is the second in a series of three posts sharing the books I have read and enjoyed. As always, if you have any titles you have liked especially, please share them!

What can be said about the first year of motherhood other than it is a rollercoaster in every way? Everything changed when I had a child. Some changes were obvious (less sleep), and some, not so much. My entire thought process and view of the world became different. Below are some books that helped clear the smoke for me. I hope you will pick some of these up!

1. Down Came the Rain: My Journey Through Postpartum Depression  I wasn't a particular fan of Brooke Shields, but this book changed that. She is brutally honest and inspiring in this book describing her experience with PPD. Her writing is brave and her message is a positive one. I did not experience PPD to the extent that she did, but I found this book a great solace in my darker moments.

2. The Mask of Motherhood: How Becoming a Mother Changes Our Lives and Why We Never Talk About It   I am so incredibly grateful for this book. Though my experience in being a parent is largely a positive one, and my outlook is generally pretty good, I definitely had (and still have) times where things look bleak, the changes are unwelcomed, and situations and circumstances are completely overwhelming. This book spoke to that side of me and made me feel like I wasn't alone or crazy for having the thoughts and feelings I did. The worst thing we can do with negative emotions is to keep them to ourselves.

3. Mother Shock: Loving Every (Other) Minute Of It  Like the title above, this book is brilliant at celebrating the joyous changes that motherhood brings without denying the unpleasant ones. A real, honest look at what happens to us when we become mothers, not just physically, but emotionally, as well. It's humorous and engaging.
 
4. For moms of boys: It's a Boy: Women Writers on Raising Sons  This is such a great collection of real life stories. The relationship between a mother and son is unique and complex, and it's celebrated in this book. There are a couple of sad stories, so beware, but most of the book is funny, poignant, and from the heart.
 
5. Child of Mine: Writers Talk About the First Year of Motherhood  Funny, honest, and straightforward. This book has everything I love--real stories from women writers who happen to be mothers. Nothing makes you feel better about your circumstance than knowing that someone else is going through it, too!
 
6. Toddler: Real-life Stories of Those Fickle, Irrational, Urgent, Tiny People We Love A hysterical look at toddlerhood. These stories focus on the children, and anyone who has a toddler knows that their antics can send you into fits of laughter or rivers of tears, sometimes at the same time. Great when you need a laugh.

These titles are available through Amazon.com. Happy reading!

 

Motherhood Changes Everything

Motherhood changes everything. Even when you think that things couldn’t possibly become any more different—they do, and you are once again plunged into the dark unknown, completely against your will; completely unprepared, yet again. I’ve been a mom for seven years, and each age and stage my children have gone through has been harder, and better, than the last.

Such was my life during my son’s first year. The first six months, when my days were spent trying to decipher Alex’s cries, settle him to sleep, feed him, bathe him, all while trying to squeeze in a shower and maybe a glass of water for myself, seemed like a cakewalk when I returned to work and post partum depression reared its ugly head. It was as if nothing in the outside world was different. Other than the occasional query about my baby, people’s lives went on, unchanged. How was this possible when my entire world had become impossibly twisted? The earth had not stopped spinning because I had become a mother, at least not to anyone else but me.

It felt odd to walk around without my big belly after almost a year of being pregnant. My body was different. I’d been through so much in labor and delivery, and in addition to pregnancy weight, I’d gained stretch marks, a lingering baby pouch, and so much guilt-- about, well, everything.

I had expected motherhood to make me feel confident, invincible, and happy. Instead I was unsure of myself, vulnerable, and miserable. I felt so guilty for working, and that emotion consumed me. I was constantly exhausted and emotionally drained. I missed my baby intensely and I felt like I never saw him. I had enormous amounts of confusion and uncertainty about what my life was about. All this was such a blow to me, as I had thought motherhood would bring about all the opposite. I was also confused because since I had experienced the normal baby blues immediately following Alex’s birth (and come through them easily) this new set of feelings was unexpected.

The whole world suddenly seemed different; bigger, more dangerous—and having produced a human being inside my body that was now out in that same world, I felt intensely protective and helpless. A car could hit me on my way to work. My baby could die of SIDS. In the mornings, I made sure to memorize what color shirt my husband was wearing, just in case I had to describe him to the police later on because he disappeared. I recognized these thoughts as irrational, but I couldn’t stop them. The very thought that we were not going to be in this world forever to protect our baby filled me with despair.

Could I ignore the changes to my marriage? It was as if we had never existed as a couple before our son. What did we used to talk about? What did we do on our dates? Would we ever have a date, or time alone, again?

I also eventually had to admit that the difficult labor and delivery I had with my son had a lot to do with how I felt that entire first year. My experience was emotionally devastating, to say the least (and that’s another blog post!), and left me feeling helpless, scared, and not trusting of myself and my abilities as a mother.

Looking back, I should have asked for help. I spent too many days feeling despondent and unhappy, crippled by emotions that I couldn’t describe to anyone. Why is it that so many new mothers experience some form of depression or anxiety yet so many are unwilling to talk about it? The first year is so hard. There are infinite changes, and it’s normal to feel ambivalent about motherhood, resentful of the new responsibilities; even trapped. Not discussing it, or hiding it, is in part what leads to depression. I’ve never heard any new parent say, “yeah, we go to sleep at the same time we always did, take long showers daily, and eat dinner together every night.” Why is it that we can so easily discuss the logistical changes in our life as we knew it, but not the emotional ones? We all try to lose the pregnancy weight, go back to work, get back to normal, so quickly—as if we’re in a rush to prove something, as if we don’t want to admit that we’re not so sure about this new life as a parent—that everything is different. And it always will be.

Susan Maushart discusses this very thing in The Mask of Motherhood: How Becoming a Mother Changes Our Lives and Why We Never Talk About It. Says Maushart, “Experiencing ambivalence about motherhood is one thing. Expressing it—and by extension, legitimizing it—is quite another. The mask of motherhood ensures that the face of ambivalence, however widely or keenly felt, remains a guilty secret.” She found that the women who were able to be honest about their emotions were the ones least likely to be depressed.

Slowly, my life returned back to normal. Or, I should say, we all found a new normal. I am not who I was before I had children—I’m better. My husband and I now date regularly—even if it’s just a bowl of popcorn and a rented movie. We eat dinner together every night, and we talk, a lot. His compassion, patience, and support make him a wonderful father and an amazing partner. Years have passed since those early foggy days, but certain things will bring me back; a smell, a lullaby. I remember where I was and am proud of myself for how far I’ve come.

I know my feeling better was gradual, and the depression I experienced was relatively short-lived. But I honestly only noticed how different I am now compared to a few years ago just this past summer. After an afternoon out and about, as I was walking home with my children, I happened to notice how blue the sky was that day. Then I noticed the leaves blowing in the trees, and heard the birds singing.  And as I lifted my head up, I closed my eyes, felt the warm sun on my face, and I took a deep breath--I thought, my god, finally, I am happy. And it was the most amazing feeling. 

Coping with Birth Disappointment

    I have birth disappointment.  I've had two cesareans, and I am not thankful for them.  I do not believe they saved my life.  Sometimes I am angry.  At times I am frustrated or sad.    Sometimes I lie awake for hours wondering where things went wrong.  None of these things make me a bad mother.

    As a mother coping with birth disappointment, I can tell you that depression in mothers is terribly misunderstood.  Birth is broken in America.  As women we are asked to accept interventions without question and pressured to make decisions when at our most vulnerable.  We have 5 minute prenatals with an obstetrician that might be present during our births.  Electronic monitors tell nurses when we are worthy of their attention and pitocin is now as essential to birth as the baby itself.  So it's no wonder that even the most prepared mothers often come out of birth having experienced interventions.  For a mother that enters birth with certain expectations, unplanned interventions, use of pain relief, or cesarean birth can be devastating.

   Dealing with feelings of anger, shame, sadness, or disappointment regarding your birth can be difficult.  Well-meaning family and friends remind new mothers that they have a healthy baby despite the experience, and while the sentiment is meant to make the mother feel better - after all, what better prize is there? - it generally only makes her feel worse.  Often the mother feels judged, as though others see her as ungrateful or selfish.  However, the feelings associated with birth disappointment are valid.

   Birth is a momentous experience in a woman's life.  It is transformative for the woman regardless of whether it is her first child or her fifth.  It is her first experience mothering that child, and it is important to her.  It is not simply a means to an end.

   It is key that women are allowed to cope with birth disappointment rather than try to ignore it.  Birth disappointment can affect a woman's desire to have children.  Some are too scared to want more, others become obsessed with trying again in an effort to heal the previous trauma.  Ignoring it could certainly put mom at higher risk of PPD and PTSD.
     
    The first step in healing birth disappointment is to acknowledge it and accept it as valid.  So here is what having birth disappointment means and what it doesn't mean.
 
Having birth disappointment means:
- A mother experienced unplanned, and often undesired, interventions.
- A mother may have experienced an undesired outcome, such as a cesarean section or episiotomy.
- A mother's birth memories elicit undesirable emotions such as anger, fear, or sadness.

It does not mean:
- The mother does not love her child.
- The mother was uneducated or poorly informed.
- Interventions were not necessary.

Women who are experiencing birth disappointment should take some comfort in that they are not alone.  Realizing what you are experiencing is normal and valid allows you to take healing steps.  Below are some strategies for coping with birth disappointment.

Ways to cope with birth disappointment:


- Join a support network. Not only will you benefit from having others who understand your feelings, but it can help you feel more empowered about future births. The International Cesarean Awareness Network (ICAN) has chapters that meet monthly in most areas. Birth Network National has chapters in many states that offer monthly meetings on a variety of birth topics.

- Talk with your care provider. If you are lucky enough to have a really supportive care provider, discussing your birth experience with them might provide better insight into why things didn't go as you wanted. Even if you don't have a strong relationship with your care provider, think of this as an opportunity to understand what happened during your birth. It may also give you an indication of whether or not you want to use this provider for future births.

- Seek medical help, if necessary. PPD and PTSD following birth is more common than most women realize. At a time when you are supposed to be happy, often mothers feel that they can't speak up about being depressed. However, PPD is most likely caused by a hormonal imbalance out of the woman's control. SSRIs might be necessary, or talk with your provider about hormone therapy (My doctor put me on natural progesterone pills. By the next day I was laughing, and I no longer needed them at 2 months!)

- Write out your birth story. While time supposedly heals all wounds, it can also just make things fuzzy. Sometimes the further you get from an experience, the more likely you are to forget minor, but important details. Three years from now all you might remember is getting an epidural not the reason you had for getting one. Ask your partner or labor support person to help.

- Be gentle with yourself. I have to give credit to my midwife for this one. It's something I remind myself of daily. Whether or not you could have changed your experience with different decisions is a moot point. We all did the best we could with the information we had at the time. Reminding yourself of this can help when you experience moments of self-doubt or self-recrimination.

Coping Mantras

My feelings are valid. I will not be ashamed of them.
I will allow this experience to be part of me, but not dictate who I am.
My birth experience does not determine who I am as a mother.
I will be gentle with myself.

   If you have a friend or loved one who is experiencing birth disappointment, be patient, listen to them and express genuine sympathy.  Avoid lectures on gratitude.  Do not try to remind her of her blessings.  Your gentle reminder can send her into a shame spiral.  Instead respect her experience and offer support.  Often the love and support of others can do more to help heal her wounds than any other strategy.


Readers:  If you have dealt with birth disappointment, what helped you?