Dont Say The "P' Word!
On the edge
Overthinking.
Not enough room to think.
Not enough sleep
No where to hide
Only room to be present.
Only room to be present.
Mami Hood.
My daughter was born VIA C-section at 7:01 pm on October the 18th 2019. In case you don't know the recovery process of a c-section is horrible. With every movement I made after the procedure I felt like somebody was stabbing me. It felt so bad to the point where I couldn't even hold my daughter the way I wanted to. Using the bathroom was even worst.
The first day I brought my daughter home I seriously was naive to the fact that caring for a little human 24/7 would be so massive. Everything had changed so drastically in a way that scared the living shit out of me. Everything centered around her. Making sure she wasn't hungry, she's breathing, if her diaper needed to be changed. All while my body felt like my guts were going to fall out at any moment.
I think one of the hardest things was watching everybody else lives not being affected by my new found role. Nothing changed for them. Their days carried on as usual. They didn't have to schedule their hygiene around caring for a newborn or making the difficult decision on whether to eat because you haven't ate all day or fear of waking up the baby who has been waking up every two hours to nurse. I literally had to decide on whether a pumping session was more important than getting some much needed rest.
Some of you may not relate but I have to be transparent with this post and the truth is although I was so in love with my daughter, I never felt more alone. I felt ashamed to even talk to anyone about how I felt because apart of me felt weak for even complaining . I was fearful of someone making me feel smaller than I already felt. I started to harbor a lot of resentment.
It wasn't until a relative of mine who I just recently started back talking to called and asked how things where going. I gave her the unintentional rehearsed dialogue about my baby and how she's growing so fast and ETC. Usually that would of been it but to my surprise she asked " thats good, but how are you doing?"
I literally had to put down the phone because I started sobbing I don't even think she knew that I was crying. It was the first time that someone was checking on me. Not the baby, not Liyah the mommy, but Liyah. I held my baby for which seemed like forever and I promised her that I was going to get through this. I was forced to acknowledge the fact that I was not okay. That question became my safe haven.
I'm learning to embrace my vulnerability in being a mami and not comparing my journey of motherhood with anyone else. I'm a damn good mom and whenever I need some reassurance all I have to do is in look into those big dark brown eyes. Her eyes let me know that my job isn't to be perfect but to provide an endless space that she can flourish and thrive.
My daughter is my everything she is my muse, my lifeline, and my light.
I couldn't of given her a better name.
I'm pretty sure i'll face more emotional and physical scars along the way but until then
MillenialMami signing out.
-LyricLattimore
Some of you may not relate but I have to be transparent with this post and the truth is although I was so in love with my daughter, I never felt more alone. I felt ashamed to even talk to anyone about how I felt because apart of me felt weak for even complaining . I was fearful of someone making me feel smaller than I already felt. I started to harbor a lot of resentment.
I would tell myself, "its your baby, so it's your problem".
It wasn't until a relative of mine who I just recently started back talking to called and asked how things where going. I gave her the unintentional rehearsed dialogue about my baby and how she's growing so fast and ETC. Usually that would of been it but to my surprise she asked " thats good, but how are you doing?"
I literally had to put down the phone because I started sobbing I don't even think she knew that I was crying. It was the first time that someone was checking on me. Not the baby, not Liyah the mommy, but Liyah. I held my baby for which seemed like forever and I promised her that I was going to get through this. I was forced to acknowledge the fact that I was not okay. That question became my safe haven.
I'm learning to embrace my vulnerability in being a mami and not comparing my journey of motherhood with anyone else. I'm a damn good mom and whenever I need some reassurance all I have to do is in look into those big dark brown eyes. Her eyes let me know that my job isn't to be perfect but to provide an endless space that she can flourish and thrive.
My daughter is my everything she is my muse, my lifeline, and my light.
I couldn't of given her a better name.
I'm pretty sure i'll face more emotional and physical scars along the way but until then
MillenialMami signing out.
-LyricLattimore
Comments
Post a Comment