I remember back to being in the hospital after Harlow was born, and feeling so tired and overwhelmed... not really knowing 'what to do' with my new baby in front of me. It became nighttime and I promised Adam it was okay for him to lay down and get some rest on the couch next to me. Harlow slept peacefully in the bassinet beside my hospital bed and I kept watching her to make sure she was breathing. I started to lay down and close my heavy eyes but every few minutes I would sit up to look at Harlow. Any sound she made I got up to watch her, to make sure she was safe and okay. When she began to cry, I picked her up and began 'nursing' her and tried my best to understand a good latch. Adam offered multiple times to hold her while I got some rest but I refused. I wanted to do it. I was her mother, and I had this strong feeling of needing to show her I was her mom and I was always going to take care of her.
I refused several offers and suggestions from the nurses to let them take her to the nursery so I could rest. I didn't want to let her out of my sight for a second. I didn't trust that my baby would be taken care of or attended to if she started to cry. So there I sat, with burning, tired eyes, holding and watching my baby. My rainbow.
The following day I took a shower and tried my best to hurry, despite being in a lot of pain from labor, for fear that something would happen to her while I was gone. I feared that she would need me and wonder where I was during the 15 minutes it took me to shower.
That night, around 3 am, the nurse offered again to take her to the nursery so I could sleep. Knowing my hesitation she said she would take her for 2 hours and bring her right back for me to nurse her. I reluctantly agreed. Being as tired as I was after being up for 3 days straight, I fell right to sleep. When I woke up... It was 4 hours later and Harlow was nowhere to be found. I panicked and called the nurses button. When they answered, I rushed out the words how my baby was suppose to be with me and she's not and I need her immediately. Finally, Harlow was brought into the room. Apparently the nurse said she checked on me and saw how peacefully I was sleeping, and that Harlow had been sleeping in a swing in the nursery as well, so she didnt feel the need to wake her or myself. I get where she was coming from.... But this added to my already fragile emotional fear of losing her. I never let them take her again.
A photographer came to our room to snap some newborn pictures of her. She wasnt too fond of the idea and spent a lot of time crying and just wanting to be held. I suddenly had a flush of dizziness and started to feel hot. I tried to get out the words to tell Adam how I was feeling but struggled. He knew something was wrong though and hurried the session along. I was short of breath and felt panicked. I wanted the photographer out of the room immediately. I feel so bad now, but I got extremely rude with them because all I wanted was for them to leave, and me to comfort my baby.
Before leaving the hospital and being discharged, I had one more meltdown. We were on our way out and Adam had pulled the car around. It was hot outside and so we brought her carseat into the lobby to strap her in. I put her in and couldn't figure out how to tighten the straps right away and just began sobbing hysterically. I wondered why no doctor was with us, assuring Harlows safety in her carseat for the ride home. What kind of hospital was this?! (A renowned teaching hospital). How come no one was making sure she even had a carseat? Somebody who knows carseat safety should be here right now, I sobbed. Adam... Sweet Adam... Stepped in and strapped her in nice and safe and gave me a hug. After seeing all was okay in the world and Harlow was happily in her carseat, I walked to the car and sat in the backseat next to her the whole way home.
The first night home, I layed in bed and sobbed. I have no idea why or where it came from. But I had a meltdown. Poor Adam was trying to hear my indecipherable rant and came in to understand what I was saying... Leaving Harlow on the changing table. I freaked out even more and ordered him to go back in there. Now... She was a newborn... She wasnt going to roll off... Everything was okay... But in that moment, it made me feel like something could have happened to her... And it's because I wasn't there.
The first 3 months are a complete blur to me, although I know there were many more tears, meltdowns, and panic attacks. I started feeling like I needed to prove myself worthy of being a mother. I needed to do everything myself, with no help, so Harlow would know she was safe and I wasn't going to let anything happen to her. Now... That can be exhausting and was a compeltely unrealistic expectation, that I am sadly just NOW, starting to see. I felt and still feel, this desperate attempt to do everything exactly right and do everything myself. I don't trust that anyone else would care for her the way I do.
Fast forward to now... Harlow is 13 months old and I hold her for her naps. Yes, each nap, twice a day. She falls asleep fast and peacefully and sleeps 2 hours. She does this because she knows I'm here and she knows she's safe. I do this, so she can feel comfortable and safe. We also bed share, and I subconsciously monitor her breathing and can offer comfort her if she needs it. Harlow, is always with me. And I am always with Harlow.
I left Harlow with Adam for the first time ever just 1 week ago. So I could run to the store for 3 things. I mulled over the decision to go by the store without her. I have never understood how mothers can put their babies in daycare. Or how couples start to go on regular date nights after their little one is here. I also have to remember, those people havent lost a child and don't have the slightest clue as to what its like to lose the mostprecious thing to you. They don't have panic attacks or anxiety not being by their little ones like i do... i try not to compare myself and say to each their own. When I got home from the store, was Harlow hurting and crying? No... She was perfectly happy hanging out with dad.
I'm at a point where I'm starting to recognize this intense fear that I have. Fear of losing her just like I lost Lyla. I am scared that something will happen to her. I feed her all organic things in an attempt to not expose her to hormones or pesticides or anything else that can cause cancer. I am genuinely afraid and have anxiety over it.
This is something I'm going to have to slowly work on. It's hard to hear criticism from other people, regarding what I allow her to have, or how she sleeps or naps, or how I don't let other people 'watch' her. They have never lost a child. They don't have even an ounce of understanding of this anxiety that I have regarding the care and safety of her. I'm not saying that this is completely fine for me to have, but I do feel like it's justified. I wish it was treated tenderly with understanding and respect instead of ridicule. It's a hard road having your rainbow baby. Not just the pregnancy, but also the after part. The actually having your rainbow baby part. I never could have imagined how hard it has been, but we're getting through it, one day at a time.
You're doing a PERFECT job lovey! You have to do what you're comfortable with, you're doing it on your terms and that's OKAY! You're an amazing mama and don't you ever forget it!
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