My first day as a parent was almost 6 years ago now. Labor started around 3 or 4 a.m. and he was born at 10:38 p.m. No record length of labor there. It was progressing smoothly until I developed a fever. The midwife and OB said it wasn’t from the epidural, but years later, as I was preparing for my second child, childbirth education classes were admitting that yes, epidurals can cause fevers. So I started my first day as a mom of a baby earthside sick and recovering from major surgery. A surgery I didn’t want and had worked as hard as I possibly could have to avoid. I could barely walk, I was traumatized, and baby and I had been separated, another thing I didn’t want.
I spent my first day as a mom feeling inadequate and unable to care for the baby I had just spent 10 months growing and throwing up for. He wouldn’t latch consistently. We had a tongue and lip tie revised-best decision ever because then he did latch consistently. But I could hardly move. My tailbone was in more pain than I thought possible when I lay on my back, and because of my c-section, I couldn’t turn or move in my bed without excruciating pain. I mostly lay around that day anxiously nursing or trying to get around. It quickly became easier to walk but nursing and self-care would take a few more weeks. And I was still operating mostly on adrenaline; the full weight of the difficult birth wouldn’t hit completely for weeks, and then new layers would slowly reveal themselves as I went to therapy.
A few years later I sit here while my second baby sleeps and my first baby is thriving in Kindergarten. I didn’t know what birth trauma would do to us. I’m proud of the growth we’ve all displayed in our family. But the anniversaries are coming up of the birth and postpartum trauma and that’s still a sad thing to face. I wish I could have nested in peace and comfort with my first baby the way I did with my second. The first day as a mom of two was beautiful in comparison. She shot out of me after a mere 7 hours since labor started. I avoided major surgery, and my body felt so much more capable and empowered than it had after my first birth. Although my second baby also struggled with weight gain, I had the self-assurance and autonomy to drive myself to a lactation appointment. I already knew how to pump and express milk. I had her gaining in days rather than the weeks it took to get my son back to his birth weight. I mourn for the insecure, brutalized, and traumatized first-time mom I was that first day. If you came upon this blog because you were put in that sort of position as a first-time parent, I am sorry this happened. Six years later, life is beautiful and parenthood is good. But it was a long road to get here, and fortunately and unfortunately it’s not a lonely road… There are many others like me who have had this sort of start to parenthood. Please feel free to drop a comment below with reflections on your first day as a parent… Your experience is valid, and it being hard or ‘bad’ is no reflection on you, your love, or your worth as a parent.
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