I originally set out to lightheartedly share about our first few weeks with Adelaide. I process through writing and as I sat down to document our time with her, it quickly turned into a post about my vastly different postpartum and pregnancy experiences and the mourning and healing that have simultaneously been at work during this time.
These thoughts are personal and I initially didn't plan to share them. But as I sat with it, I was reminded that sharing makes us feel less alone. Time and time again as I've vulnerably blogged about things that life has thrown my way, I've connect with others over shared experiences, so without further ado...
My pregnancy with Dawson was filled solely with hope and excitement for life with a sweet baby. For as long as I can remember, I wanted to be a mom — completely ignorant to the challenges and life-altering reality of becoming a parent.
When Dawson was a baby, I remember reading other mom's posts about how happy their babies were, how great they slept and how blissful motherhood was. I would sob because I couldn’t say the same. My baby wasn't happy. He didn't sleep. While we went on to breastfeed for over two years, it took us more than two agonizing months to establish a positive nursing relationship, which I fully anticipated to come naturally. He cried around the clock despite my best efforts to console him. I spent much of Dawson’s early days (months) feeling inadequate, like I didn’t know how to care for him and wasn't good enough. He seemed to hate everything I tried to do to help him. The days and nights of infanthood were long. So long. It was soul sucking. Joy was there, but it was largely overshadowed by frustration and overwhelm.
When Dawson was eight months old I started teaching childbirth education classes with the midwives I’d seen throughout my pregnancy. One evening after teaching class, I was in an empty patient room at the clinic putting away supplies. There was a book sitting on the counter. I don’t remember the name of it but it was there for expectant mothers to read as they waited to be seen by the midwife. As a curious aspiring midwife, I picked up the book and skimmed through the pages. The words postpartum depression jumped out at me. Exactly what was written has escaped me, but I remember tears welling up in my eyes as I realized that’s it. That’s what I have. It's a thing, it's not just me. Although I felt relieved to know there was an explanation to my experience, I never did have the courage to seek help. This postpartum experience informed my whole idea about what it’s like to be a mom, particularly the mom of a new baby.
Insert my pregnancy with Adelaide.
While overall I enjoy being pregnant and was eager to be having another child, this time around there was far less hope and excitement for life with a newborn. Instead, I spent my pregnancy largely consumed by worry and fear of our future and the reality of how stressful life was about to become. This sweet girl came as a welcome surprise, but between my rigorous schooling and Josh’s never-ending work life, our world is already completely chaotic and I couldn’t fathom adding a newborn to the mix.
During this pregnancy, my midwife gave me a workbook — "a guide to a peaceful pregnancy and powerful birth" — and while working through it, one of the prompts had me write down my top three fears. My biggest fear was the newborn stage and that I wouldn't enjoy it. I feared being left in a depression again, this time having a whole lot more to juggle. I don't think I fully acknowledged it at the time, but looking back now I realize that this heaviness significantly hindered my ability to fully embrace my pregnancy with Adelaide the way I had with Dawson and now I'm left mourning that time and experience.
While overall I enjoy being pregnant and was eager to be having another child, this time around there was far less hope and excitement for life with a newborn. Instead, I spent my pregnancy largely consumed by worry and fear of our future and the reality of how stressful life was about to become. This sweet girl came as a welcome surprise, but between my rigorous schooling and Josh’s never-ending work life, our world is already completely chaotic and I couldn’t fathom adding a newborn to the mix.
During this pregnancy, my midwife gave me a workbook — "a guide to a peaceful pregnancy and powerful birth" — and while working through it, one of the prompts had me write down my top three fears. My biggest fear was the newborn stage and that I wouldn't enjoy it. I feared being left in a depression again, this time having a whole lot more to juggle. I don't think I fully acknowledged it at the time, but looking back now I realize that this heaviness significantly hindered my ability to fully embrace my pregnancy with Adelaide the way I had with Dawson and now I'm left mourning that time and experience.
But then Adelaide was born and everything was different than I anticipated: She was different. I was different. My perspective was different. Josh was different. There was so much hope and joy, peace and patience and just enough parenting experience to remind us that nothing is forever. We have support and community in a way that we didn’t yet have when Dawson was first born.
Adelaide has brought more peace and joy into my life than I can even begin to describe. I never would have fathomed that a newborn was capable of this. My time with her has been unbelievably healing for me as a mom and as a person. The experience has given me confidence and filled a part of my soul that I didn't know was empty. I have been on a high since her birth. I've had postpartum appointments with my midwife, my therapist, our marriage therapist and my psychiatrist (#mentalhealthgalore), all of whom have been beyond impressed by mental state throughout this transition. It feels too good to be true and it's hard for me to share about it because I don't feel deserving of any of it. After years of dealing with overwhelming amounts of stress and anxiety, it's foreign to me to feel wrapped in joy the way I do right now. Adelaide's existence is proof to me that God's plans for my life are better than my own. Just as Dawson was, and still is, exactly who I need to grow me in certain ways like love and compassion and patience, Adelaide is here to shape me in other ways, both of which I am so grateful for.
I also vacillated about whether or not to share this because I know how hard it is to read about someone else's happiness when you're in the throes of postpartum or motherhood. I've been there and I want to be mindful of that. If that's you, please know that you are not alone. You are seen and you are loved and this phase isn't forever. Nothing is. It's a growing place for me to own and share this moment of triumph and I trust that if you care enough to be following my life through this blog, you can understand that and celebrate alongside me.
And now, a bit about life with Adelaide:
We've had several people ask what we plan to call her. We call her Adelaide and prefer that her name isn't shortened. That said, Dawson refers to her as, "The babe" "The Babester" "Add" "Adds" and "Sweet pea," all of which we find perfectly acceptable.
His transition to big brother couldn't be going more smoothly. He has taken really well to her and loves helping us and snuggling her. His favorite thing is when she looks at him ("SHE'S LOOKING AT ME!!!") and his least favorite part is diaper changes and even the mere thought of her spitting up (he gags and it's hilarious).
Adelaide sleeps and eats well and is better at snuggling that anyone I know. So far she seems to go-with-the flow amidst our chaos. She's received a lot of compliments about how round her head is, which I find very random, as well as how much she smiles. I'm not sure exactly how much she weighs now, but at four weeks today she's on the verge of outgrowing her newborn clothes. We aren't sure quite who she looks like but we agree that she looks different than Dawson. She's an angel. She is everything I didn't know I needed and I'm so glad she's here.
I miss you all and love you so very much. I hope I can meet the babester, Adelaide soon!
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