Story #93 - Ting, Mechanicsville VA (USA) - Postpartum Anxiety, Feeding Journey, Sleep Deprivation, Insomnia, Intrusive Thoughts, Chinese Culture & Postpartum Care
The pregnancy was pretty good. I was so happy to finally get pregnant. We tried for nine months. We were about to see a doctor, and then, my periods never came.
The only hard thing about the pregnancy was that I had gestational diabetes. I'm a massage therapist, and it's a labor job, so I need to eat all the time. Diabetes made it hard to eat. I had to check everything I put in my body, and nothing in my diet made sense. I couldn't eat rice. I remember eating shrimps all the time because they have no carbs. I was hungry and tired all the time. I had to do the shots for insulin. I remember the first time I had to give myself a shot, I held the needle up for 10 minutes because I didn't want to do it!
I thought that was hard, but having the baby was much harder. Labor was 30 hours, and they had to use the forceps to get him out. I had the epidural, but I still felt everything. It was the worse pain I've ever felt. I remember my midwife would tell me, "Stop pushing the medicine button! You still need to feel the pressure to push him out."
I pushed for 5 hours, and finally, the doctor used the forceps. My brain went empty. There was only pain pain pain. And that was just the first step, I pushed four more times after that to get him out. And I tore badly. It was terrible.
The real journey began when we came home. I couldn't sleep, and I didn't know what to do. I was super nervous. My whole life, I wanted to be a mom. Finally, we have a little son, and I wanted to give him the best I could ever offer. So when he cried, I felt bad. I held him, but my milk came on the third day. Little boy was super hungry and thirsty. Crying and screaming all the time. At the hospital, they would come and give me my meal and check my blood sugar. I felt he was getting supply from me. But when I came home, I had no sleep and didn't have time to cook, so I didn't eat. I don't think I gave him anything, at least not until the third day.
It was hard. I remember the first night my husband was sleeping, and I was looking at the clock, holding my son. I let my husband sleep from midnight to five am, and then I woke him up. I said, "I just want to lay down too. I just labored for 30 hours. I'm tired."
I can still see myself sitting all the time, holding my son in the rocking chair. My stitches were hurting, and it had become a problem. Every time I peed, it hurt. I thought I must have had an infection, but when I went to see my OB, he said they were fine. I think that I was so tired that my body couldn't heal itself. I couldn't go number two. I tried not to take any pain medicine because I was nursing, but I eventually gave in because it was too much.
I was also very hormonal, like many new moms, and I felt nervous all the time. I couldn't sleep, even when my husband had the baby. At night, all the baby wanted was to feed. At first, I would ask my husband to bring him to nurse. But then, I had that silly idea that I was a superwoman, and I told him one night that I would sleep on the couch because he needed to work in the morning, so he should sleep.
I stayed on that couch for the first three months of my baby's life.
I wanted to be a great wife. I wanted to care for my husband.
Now I know I was wrong.
The new mom is probably the one who needs more help. She's the one who needs to rest and be taken care of.
I don't think we can know these things before we've experienced them. Even when friends tell you that you need to sleep and take care of yourself, you don't get it until you've done it.
I had to feed him every one or two hours. Between that and burping, changing the dirty diaper, and putting him back to sleep... you need to do it all over again. I never slept.
I also don't have any family here, so it was another challenge. I'm the only child, and my mom is from China. My best friend did come for a week after our son was born. She lives in Philadelphia and drove five hours to come here. She went shopping in Chinatown before she came and arrived with her trunk filled with food. That was super nice to have her.
When she left, I cried so much.
At the time, I blamed the hormones, but I think it's the physical exhaustion that killed me. I'd tell my husband, "You try not to sleep at all for so long and see how long you last!" A normal person couldn't do it.
The living room became a place I hated. I would walk down the hall at night after my son woke up again, filled with hatred. My body felt so uncomfortable. I was jealous of my husband who was in the bedroom and not stuck here.
One day, he came here and looked at our son and said, "Oh look at him with you. So much joy!" and I said to him, "There is no joy in here, only duty." I will work hard for him because I'm his mom, but I don't feel any happiness.
I didn't want to be a mom. I didn't want a son.
No one should feel that way.
After two weeks, my husband went back to work. From that moment on, all I did was to hold my son 24/7. Every night my husband would go to bed at 10, and I hated him for that. I hated to look at the clock because I knew he'd sleep 8 hours and look beautiful, go to work, and feel happy.
Meanwhile, I was so tired. Then, one day, I had this vision in my mind that I wanted to throw my baby on the floor. For five weeks, I had many more of these. I would be changing him, and he'd be fussy, so I would push him away on the couch. All I remember was his shocked face. He didn't know what was happening. He didn't do anything wrong, and I shouldn't have thrown him further away from me.
One day, it became too much.
I think it was a Saturday or a Sunday, and I told my husband to care for our son and that I needed a break.
I took the car and drove around, looking for food. Some people might dream of good restaurants, but that day I ate Chick-fil-A in my car, alone in a parking lot. I remember thinking that I needed to go back to China before I killed my son. I didn't care about my marriage anymore. I just wanted to feel safe. My mom and dad could help me.
When I came home, two ladies from the church were there. I was crying. I told my husband, "You did this?! You don't care about me! I want to go back to a place where I'm loved!"
One of the women he had called is an advocate for postpartum depression because her sister committed suicide after giving birth. They saw all the signs and were asking my husband if he had a gun at home. Things got really bad. I kept crying.
I can still see these two ladies sitting there holding my boy and my husband looking so innocent. But all I wanted to go back to China. I wanted to feel at home and stop resenting him for not helping me the way I needed.
In a way, that was my fault because it was my idea to care for our boy at night and be a good wife to him.
But after the two ladies left, I told him: "Either we find a nanny, or I go back to China."
The first few days after that, the two ladies would come to visit. They also contacted all my friends and neighbors. One of them, Irma, came at 7 in the morning and then would bring me breakfast. If she needed to leave, say, at 10, another friend would come to let me doze a little bit. Then another person would come.
It lasted for a couple of days, then one of my husband's colleagues, a Chinese lady, gave us some information, and we hired a nanny. We were lucky.
In China, we have a special system to support new moms, where for one month, they cannot get out of bed. People know your body needs to recover. The family comes in to help or they hire a nanny. She cooks special food because Chinese people think that warm broths help your body recover. You eat lots of soup, no salt. Then you sleep. When it's time to nurse, the grandma brings the baby to you and then takes the baby away so that the new mom can sleep.
Our nanny stayed for a month, like the four Chinese weeks. She arrived at eight o'clock in the morning and stayed until 4:30 pm when my husband returned home. I think they didn't want me to be alone and try to kill myself. They were afraid. Every morning when she arrived, she'd take the baby and tell me, "Go to sleep." I'd lay in bed for two or three hours, get up, and then the lady would cook lunch for me. After lunch, I'd go back down for a nap until she needed to leave.
I didn't enjoy it. I think I was too deep in my depression. My mind and body were exhausted. My spirit was out. I remember lying on the bed, scrolling on my phone, and feeling nothing. Numb.
My OB had given me medicine, and the dose was really low. They all wanted me to be safe, and I wanted that too, so I took it.
Then one day, I remember walking into our living room. I looked outside the window, and it was beautiful. I felt happy again.
It wasn't magical and didn't solve everything, but it was progress.
After three months, sleep had gotten better, so I was feeling okay most days. I don't think I was depressed anymore, but it was still hard. Some days, I would scream at my son and feel bad about it, but no vision of throwing him off the floor.
It took about a year to fully feel like myself.
I understand now that you can't do it alone. Before we had a baby, I thought my husband and I had the most perfect relationship in the world. We never had any problems. But after our son came, I wanted to divorce him.
On a good day now, I'd like to have another baby. My husband says I'm crazy.
In China, we have that saying that women aren't the brightest animal because, after all this suffering, we still want more babies.
But having children is our life reward. We are here to love them, and they are here to love us so much. My son is the best and most special thing in the world. Hard and rewarding at the same time. To love him is a chance.
Now I understand a bit better how my parents must have felt.
Funny enough, I didn't have a good relationship with my mom. Now it's much better, but back in 2012, that was the most important reason why I came to America. I didn't feel very happy in China. I felt like Chinese parents were just trying to control us, and I hated Chinese culture. There, we don't have space, and we don't respect each other. Parents think of their children as their possessions, so I felt like I owed my parents too much when I grew up. Then I came to America and thought: "The land of the free!" I loved this culture and felt Chinese culture was so old.
When I was pregnant and ready to give birth to my son, my mom offered to come, but I said no. I thought I was doing just fine on my own, that I was so tough and could do everything.
I didn't realize the Chinese culture had something good to offer.
After it got bad, she tried to come and help, but she had visa issues. That, too, was heartbreaking and didn't help the situation.
But in a way, having a baby healed my relationship with my mom. After he came, I would facetime with her every day, even though there were years when we didn't speak to each other.
She is here with me right now.
We just came back from China. We spent two weeks there and then my mom flew back with us. It was a great help for the trip because my boy only wanted to play for 17 hours! To my parents, my son is the best gift I could give them.
In the end, if I can get the chance to have other moms read my story, I want to give them a little encouragement. I want them to feel that they aren't alone, that we stand by them and for them.
Moms are doing the most important job in the world. Even if they think there's no more love in their heart, they are making the earth a better place.
Maybe the Chinese saying is wrong. Maybe mothers are the brightest animal, because they shine light into this world.