I thought being pregnant was bad. I was wrong.
Pushing a 7 pound baby out was bad. Lot of blood and some stitches involved. Nobody told me she was coming 2 weeks early. I had a pretty healthy pregnancy with no complications.
Then she comes. I hear she has jaundice and do everything in my power to reduce it. I did everything the doctors told me to do.
Feed her every 2 hours. Get no sleep. Feel completely worthless and exhausted. This is my first.
Wish my husband would go back to work. He keeps trying to pawn her off to his parents. His mother acts like she is hers. Well then, you deal with all the fussing when she eats and the shitty diapers at 3am. She’s only around when she’s sleeping or when it’s convenient to her schedule to make herself look good.
Here comes the PTSD or what it feel like, night sweats. Like having inflamed boobs constantly and a bleeding vagina wasn’t enough.
Then I watch my mother’s boyfriend before she died write everyone a petty goodbye message. Some ‘father figure’ I haven’t spoke to him since Christmas and he never once asked me how I was when I was pregnant. Didn’t even know when I was in labor. My actual father did and surprisingly showed up at the hospital.
And the newborn. Most people don’t understand that we really are on a schedule with her right now because her condition. Everyone wants to see her. Everyone has questions. Nobody respects our privacy.