Story #69 - Postpartum Pandemic Stories - Emily, Alexandria VA (USA) - On Grieving & COVID, Loneliness, Lack of Support, Formula Feeding & Doing Our Best
I had anxiety before, and I struggled with depression in the past. I had a difficult birth and postpartum period with my first child: 57 hours labor, back pain, nothing went right. Depression hit hard afterward, and I was put on medication. She was not that difficult of a baby, but I was dealing with so much anxiety and depression that I could not cope.
I saw my psychiatrist regularly after she was born, and when I got pregnant with my second baby, I decided to wean off the medicine. My doctor advised against it, but I still moved forward with it. In retrospect, I wouldn't do that again.
During the pregnancy, the hormones did their job, and I was feeling ok. I was also seeing a therapist, and with my psychiatrist, we put a plan into place. I talked to my friends about them visiting and checking on me. My parents and in-laws would come and help, and I already had all my therapist appointments scheduled.
I did the work. I was prepared. Then it all went away when the pandemic hit.
We were lucky to have him right before they started implementing all the rules about visitors and who could be in the room. I can't imagine having to give birth alone and then have to care for a newborn by myself surrounded by nurses. Although everyone at INOVA Alexandria was amazing, they don't know you. He had jaundice, so we had to stay for a couple of days at the hospital. I'm happy my husband got to be there with me. He knows how to calm me down, and we communicate well. We've been together since 2005. We get on each other's nerves sometimes, but we have been good about dividing and conquering. I'm thankful for him.
The birth was easier this time. Only seven hours. But I'm feeling a little bit of grief right now. It's unfair. You think, "I did what I was supposed to do, so why didn't I get what I expected?"
I know it does not always work like that, but it's hard.
My daughter is two-and-a-half, and it's a particularly tricky age. I was already struggling during the pregnancy with her tantrums, but now that her brother is here, it's worse. She's jealous that things are changing. The contrast between the raging toddler and the soft and fluffy newborn strikes me every day. I don't want to compare them, but I do, and it makes everything harder.
I started therapy years ago because I did not have good parenting models. We decided to put her in daycare, where she had friends and learned a lot; she loved it. But now she's cooped up here. We're at week three of that, and I can't provide the structure she needs. I struggle a lot with that.
Plus, this second baby is more demanding than she was. He's fussy and colicky. He has lots of indigestion and reflux. Put that on top of dealing with a toddler and sleep deprivation...
Thankfully, both my husband and I are on parental leave, so we don't even have to work from home right now. He's a software developer, and I work for CASA. I do all the training and supervise cases. He'll go back to work at the end of April if everything goes well, and my return is scheduled after Memorial Day. Hopefully, it'll all work out. My job isn't so much at risk because it's been around for more than 30 years. But we just had to cancel our biggest fundraiser. Financially, it's precarious, so I'm not sure.
I had PTSD when I was younger, and let's just say I work with abused children for a reason. It makes life — and especially parenting — quite a bit of a struggle. Because of that, I always try to prepare as much as I could and use my coping mechanisms. I do the work to prevent anything from happening. And now this.
Some days I wonder: when is it supposed to be easy?
I'm back on my meds, and I have an appointment scheduled with my psychiatrist. We're trying to figure out Zoom with my therapist to get our sessions virtually. But again, a big part of what's helping with therapy is to get out of the house and see her. Here I'm always hearing the kids screaming in the background or them needing me. It's hard to focus and to find space.
We do Facetime with our families, mainly to keep my toddler occupied, and people are occasionally texting to know how I'm doing. But that's about it. Everyone is stuck at home with their little ones. We're commiserating.
This virus is affecting everybody, so I know I'm not the only one who struggles. Some days, I find it comforting because I'm not alone. Other days, I feel I can't vent because everybody is trying to cope, so there's no space for me. There's no real solution to the situation, and no one can give advice because no one knows. The uncertainty complicates everything.
The first time around, I felt so much pressure to breastfeed that my anxiety spiked, and I felt like a failure. This time, I just said no. Children do turn out ok on formula. He got two weeks of breastmilk. I'm fine with it.
Luckily, when we found out he would need the sensitive formula because of his reflux, the demand was not as high as it is right now. I don't know what I would have done: your supply dries up, and you have no backup because people are hoarding. It's scary.
I feel that it was supposed to be my time to be alone with my baby. I would have watched lots of Netflix and bond. It's still hard, but you get to stay in your bubble and relax. It's special, and you're not pressured by the state to remain home.
I feel I've been robbed from my maternity leave.
I have my daughter all the time. I don't get to retreat and recover. Sometimes, I don't want her around, and I just want to take the baby and go somewhere else. But I can't. There's no space to have alone time.
It's also unfair for my husband: she was supposed to go to daycare so he could bond with his son. He deserved that too. In a way, he's also getting robbed of this experience.
We're doing our best, given the situation. We try to go outside once a day and try to find at least one fun "non-TV" activity. I used to work in preschool, and my job was to come up with games, so it comes handy nowadays. But it was a job, and I had to be "on." Now it's home. I don't want to have to be "on" at home.
I had started to work a lot on self-compassion before it all started. I should get back to it, knowing it's a constant work in progress.
The second-time parenting also helped a lot this time. I know I'll come out on the other side. When he's waking up every hour, I know it won't last forever.
Nothing lasts forever.