A Piece of Me Lives Outside of My Body

Thoughts of unfamiliar grief and an unrecognizable self

6 months postpartum today, and I’ve discovered that motherhood has been a conundrum of chaos swirled around with insurmountable joy combined with a giant heap of WTF and a dash of who the hell am I? Some days I just feel like I’m doing my best to grasp hold of my sanity. I found myself just standing in the middle of my kitchen staring off into the distance last night and between the unreasonable argument with my husband due to my bitterness, the mastitis that crept in through my back door while I was asleep on Friday and struggling heavily with my blob of a body in a multitude of ways, I feel extremely unbalanced and completely unhinged. The troubling episodes that I’ve been having lately are aggressively ripping at the seams. It often feels like a not-so-subtle unraveling. I’m a mess inside and if you could see me as I type this, I look pretty disheveled too. Two days ago, I was in the shower just clenching my teeth so hard that I could’ve broken a molar. I let out a loud scream into my hands as my baby couldn’t seem to stop crying and just take his nap. I tried to continue showering, repeating to myself “you have to take care of yourself too,” but his screams from the room next door wouldn’t allow me to relax and so after 15 mins I speedily splashed some water on myself, quickly shut off the water and grabbed my towel. As I quickly pat my face I yelled loudly into the towel once more followed by a big sloppy, sighing breath of desperation. Soap caked under my neck and still dripping wet, I set aside my own frustrations and scurried into my son’s room. I gently picked him up out of his crib and sat down in my rocking recliner, comforting and cradling him in my bosom. He quieted instantly and fell asleep in my arms as I rocked back in forth, still taking deep breaths and leaning into the understanding that he just needed Mama’s cuddles. Now here I am engulfed in the deep-rooted gratitude that somehow still resides within me. THIS encapsulates 6 months of Sage. Oh how these moments take me by surprise on the daily.

I was sitting in that same nursery recliner this morning as the rain slapped the window pains of our home, my son laying down in his crib for his first nap of the day babbling away. Looking down at my phone to log his feeding, I sneezed and peed on myself a little. I got up to see a little spot on the chair and walked over to grab a baby wipe to temporarily clean it up. So disappointed in myself, I thought I had grown past that. I just had my 6 month postpartum assessment with my pelvic floor therapist a little over a week ago and we celebrated that particular milestone amongst others. NO MORE URINARY INCONTINENCE! Or so we thought, but now it’s back and I’m feeling like I’ve traveled backwards in my recovery. That’s kind of how I feel about my mental health too at the moment. I travel forward and feel like the anxiety and depression is behind me, I’m finally healing, and just when I think I’m on the mend I fall forward into a pothole that I didn’t see in front of me. Why and how does this happen?! I know life is filled with uncontrollable waves that we have to learn to ride but why can’t the waters just calm down for a little while…like literally. Can I hold onto to the excitement that my prolapse has improved, my diastisis is closing and each day my pelvic pain subsides? Why do I feel like I can only put on clothes that will help me hide? How can I feel like the same body that created human life is inevitably causing me so much strife? Pumping up the volume on a new level of that postpartum poetry please!

My laptop on my lap and fingers tapping away in front of this pudgy pouch that I didn’t think would still be here and my boobs are huge but still not big enough to stick out further than my tummy. I ended up getting mastitis in the middle of the night on Friday. (For those that don’t know what that is, CLICK HERE). Anyways, it’s pretty awful. Body aches, chills, a fever, I thought I was coming down with the flu until I touched my right breast and the pain I felt was indescribable. Hot and tender to the touch, it felt like I was grabbing a boulder that had rolled off the side of a volcano. My husband went downstairs to get some Tylenol Flu out of the medicine cupboard for me. It temporarily took away most of my symptoms but the huge knot in my breast would not release. The next day I scheduled an urgent TeleDoc appointment, per the advice of my amazing Mama friends, and I was prescribed antibiotics. Psychologically I’m tripped up by the dip in my milk supply (I think the medication did it). As I play catch-up, I’m not getting to see the increase and stacked up reserve throughout the day. My baby is eating everything I’m producing as it comes via nursing and pumping. It’s not until the end of the day when I see he drank over 30 oz that I can comprehend any success. I feel like I’m chasing feeds again and I’ve been panicking, thinking he won’t get enough to eat. Jimmy could see me struggling and suggested I relax my mind and my sore body in an epsom salt bath. So I put on some smooth R&B and soaked in the tub Saturday evening. As I lay submerged in gentle waters, I thought about how my bubble of a belly was once a safe, nourishing home. How it was once sweet shelter for a developing, delicate human. Two hearts beating here, two souls dwelling inside of one vessel… and now a piece of me lives outside of my body. A portion of me is learning to thrive in this world apart from what once felt like divine unification. To be whole without me… a tear ran down my cheek as I closed my eyes and leaned into the fact that I must be grieving.

Grief isn’t linear. It isn’t limited or exclusive to negative shifts in life. In my case, it seems to be directly linked to the acts and image of my body, both invigorating and discouraging. I’ve grieved relationships and the loss of loved ones. I’ve healed and crumbled to pieces many times before but this feels so different. The sequence doesn’t seem to have any comprehensible order and I’m confused to see myself so full of joy in one moment as I hear, touch, smell and see my offspring before me and simultaneously wallowing in debilitating desolation, misery and fear in the next. What even is this? If you’ve been tuning into my story, some of this might seem a bit contradictory but the honesty that I’m honoring today is that more than one experiential feeling can exist at the same time, in the same space. I’ve both loved and hated my body in this season, I’ve celebrated and self deprecated, I’ve taken all of the vitamins and also indulged in a ton of unhealthy eating habits. I’m doing my best to embrace all of the wonderful things my organs, my muscles and all internal systems are doing for me AND I’ve also been quite ashamed of the shape I’m in. The crippling, twisted thoughts that pop up in my head throughout the day really spread the icing on this sweet yet spicy cake (if you can imagine these two flavors together they can be delicious or disgusting depending on your mood). I truly empathize with the mother who is much too afraid to take her eyes off her baby long enough for her to bathe herself or get a proper shower. I was her! Unwarranted intrusive thoughts attacking me constantly. Now that I’ve stepped into a new phase of my baby’s life I look back on those times wanting to talk to that new woman and remind her that it’s important to take care of herself. I want to let her know that it won’t always feel so heavy here but the energy may transfer focus to something else. To that Mama that may have given up working out because her body didn’t feel like it could move the way it used to and she didn’t trust anyone (not even her partner) to be left alone caring for this being that was once internally attached to her. I’m also her! And I need to tell myself to keep going and to use all of the inspiration I’ve gained from watching other magical Mamas but as it stands, even as a fitness professional (struggling not to say former), I could use some extra motivation over here. It’s funny, when I’m not feeling the greatest, I try to find ways to make others feel good, through movement, through words, through gestures. I really need to be taking that same energy and pour it back into me. Get back to throwing myself little postpartum body parties in the bathroom to my fave songs or treating myself to a massage, Acupunture, a facial if I can get out of the house. After all, it wasn't that long ago that I was starting to get into a little groove. I need more of that for sure because the mental state that I’m currently in = DOWN BAD. Nobody tells you how terrified you might be as you embark on this journey of parenthood. How things don’t always seem the way they look. How many old friends will fall away and how many new ones you’ll gain in the midst of that. 6 months in and a little layer of that fear is beginning to melt off. Though I’m seeing sprinkles of darkness here and there, when I zoom out and take a look at this entire picture, my days are much brighter. And truly, it’s all because of Sage. The countless amount of times that his Dad and I have looked at each other simply in awe of him. We did that! And I made it this far, I can keep going. My baby boy IS the motivation! My precious family IS my inspiration! Yeah girl, that’s the spirit! Alexa, play Celine Dion’s “It’s All Coming Back To Me Now”:

…I just have to admit that it's all coming back to me
When I touch you like this
And I hold you like that
It's so hard to believe, but it's all coming back to me
It's all coming back, it's all coming back to me now

There were moments of gold
And there were flashes of light
There were things I'd never do again
But then they'd always seemed right
There were nights of endless pleasure
It was more than any laws allow
Baby, baby!

I’m a sucker for a big build and I’m preparing for mine! Ok, I got some refreshing to do (literally, I haven’t showered today and I better get to it while the little one is napping.) Love y’all! See ya next week.