Six Weeks

Note: I started this blog post at six weeks postpartum. It is now eight weeks postpartum as I am finally able to finish and hit publish.

Six weeks ago I gave birth to my daughter. In some ways it didn't go according to plan.

I had hoped to have a water birth. I imagined arriving to the birth unit and getting in the tub, but if that didn't feel okay then I would get an epidural because my pain tolerance is low and my fear of labor pain was intense. I didn't want to feel it.

But we arrived to triage at 8:00 PM on my due date, after 14 hours of intensifying contractions. We were sure we would be sent home because I had been timing my contractions and they had become further apart as the day went on, but I was in so much pain, Jhey lied to triage when he was on the phone with them and fudged the contraction timings.

Good thing he did because after sitting in the waiting room and crying out in pain, they whisked me back, did a check and told me I was 4 cm and in active labor. I wouldn't be going home.

We went off to the birthing suite, and I didn't want to move to one with a tub. I was glued to the bed with gas and air asking for an epidural. I never got an epidural. I still am not sure why, but my guess is because of how fast my labor progressed. Jhey was also worried I wouldn't be able to sit still for it. He's probably right.

6 hours later at 2:05 AM, Chloe arrived into the world.

I had no complications or any need for interventions. By all means I had a dream labor.

The fallback birth plan was for me and Chloe to leave the hospital healthy and alive. We did.

The midwives and nurses were all great. I still think of Grace, the nurse who came in when we couldn't get Chloe to settle 24 hours later and knew exactly why.

The public NHS ward leaves much to be desired, and your experience depends on who you're sharing a room with. Unfortunately we had the most obnoxious couple who had a caravan of people in and out across from us.

And when did it become fine to take all your calls on speaker phone? Everyone around us was on speaker phone for their calls. Why!?

Again, the NHS nurses and midwives at Bedford hospital were fantastic but I could not wait to leave.

We left the hospital about 36 hours after I had given birth. As I hobbled next to Jhey out to the car in my pajamas while he carried the car seat, I realized all those influencers who post a photo leaving the hospital in their coordinated outfits are full of shit. Anything for the 'gram and the illusion of perfection. I had the most uncomplicated birth experience and was still moving slow (and forget about holding the car seat).

The sky was clear and we had left at sunset. It was cold and crisp. As we drove home, I'll never forget the giant full moon that rose in the kind of pink sky you only get during winter sunsets.

And then life was completely different.

Even my dog Vogue knew when we arrived home from the hospital.

I will admit I was not prepared for those first few weeks. They are called the newborn trenches for a reason and there is a reason there are so many people posting on newborn and postpartum subreddits digitally (and probably literally) sobbing about those first days. It is unlike anything I have ever experienced, and while I miss the very new newborn face scrunch and her teeny tiny little self, days feel more manageable already (we're 8 weeks in as I finish writing this post that I started at the 6 weeks mark, lol).

The Last Six Weeks #

Over the last six weeks I have cried from sleep deprivation. I've wondered what we've done. I've mourned the postpartum experience I will not get because I don't have a village in the UK. I have cried because I can't take Chloe out in her stroller to go for a walk in West Seattle with one of my friends. I have cried because my family is so far away.

I've cried. Just because.

I have gotten a tiny bit better at asking for help (but still struggle with this and always have.)

I am incredibly stubborn and hate sitting still. I was up relatively quickly for walks by week 2 and 3. But it's taken me some time to be okay with the routine of being the primary parent while Jhey is back at work. I've had to be okay with sitting still and letting the countertops be cluttered, with ordering takeout instead of cooking (I love cooking).

These early weeks have been an exercise in letting go and mindfulness.

But at the crux of it all, despite whatever feelings I may be feeling, at the top there is an overwhelming sense of love that is unlike anything I have felt. I was terrified I wouldn't be able to do the things a parent is supposed to do. I always felt awkward with other people's kids and babies but suddenly instinct kicked in when Chloe arrived and all that worry was for nothing.

I have involuntarily become an early morning person again. Similar to the days I would take calls in Seattle at 6:00 AM to catch my team in Berlin and Lithuania, except now my calls are with a tiny human, the most demanding of clients. When her deliverable is late (her bottle), she pitches a fit.

But I'd honestly take that any day over being yelled at by a man who's angry over lines of code.

Life is different now #

There's a part of me that's devastated I have to go back to work in May, even if it's not full time. There's a part of me that can't wait either as I feel a sense of greater purpose.

Before Chloe arrived, I didn't realize how much time I was spending, primarily online, and not really doing much. Making plans about side projects and blog posts to write but didn't entice me enough to actually follow through on. Now I prioritize the things I actually want to get done in between cleaning/feeding/changing/putting down for naps/taking care of the dog. The time to dedicate to my things is currently minimal (as demonstrated by how long this post has taken to write).

Things are evolving every day and Chloe's first vaccinations are next week so life will evolve even more when I feel comfortable taking her out to places so Jhey and I can get out of the house together for more than just grabbing a bagel or a donut.

Life is very different now and my world is making sure this little human, that might actually be an Ewok based on the noises she makes at night, is fed and thriving.

Speaking of, she's stirring and squawking from her bassinet, so this is where I'll leave you.