Day 80

     Caroline turned 6 weeks old today. In that time I've had some amazing highs and some pretty dark lows. I'm in the midst of a low point and through my tears, I asked my husband to document this moment.

Shutting down isn't very beautiful

     Post partum depression/anxiety sucks. I've now experienced it three times and I'm not sure if this time is the easiest or if I just know I can get through it because I have in the past.
Just like the previous times, my anxiety has centered around weight gain (baby), sleep (me) and breastfeeding (both of us).

     All three of my children have been preemies and slow to gain weight. As I discussed in a previous post, I was having supply issues due to a variety of factors. Thankfully I've been able to resolve many of the issues and my supply has improved greatly, but Caroline still isn't growing as much as we'd like due to her inefficient sucking reflex, and reflux. I  supplement bottles to get extra milk in and spend lots of time pumping, cleaning bottles & pump parts, making/drinking nursing tea, taking supplements- never mind the act of nursing her. It's consuming, rewarding and exhausting. There are some days when I feel so proud as I feed her because I have pushed myself through the self doubt and the difficulties. Unfortunately there are days when I feel like an absolute failure. When people see her they always comment on how tiny she is. I know they mean well, I know they are simply making an observation, I know they have no clue what my day looks like or how hard this is and I know they don't realize every time I hear she's small, it feels like a punch in the gut. I smile and say something witty, but it eats away at me. I'm doing absolutely everything I can and it still feels like I'm a terrible mother.

     The lack of sleep amplifies these feelings of failure. While the baby may sleep in 3-4 hour increments overnight (with the occasional 5 hr), I'm not sleeping that full stretch. After a feeding, my mind is racing over whether she drank enough or if she is going to throw up and choke. Logically I know she won't aspirate, but when I'm filled with anxiety, the fears take over. Every single one of her squeaks jolts me awake. There are nights where I just stare at her to make sure she's ok. I do get some sleep and I do try to nap with her, but let's be honest- when in your life, other than when you're parenting a small child, is a three hour stretch of sleep considered a luxury? Sleep deprivation is a form of torture and I'm currently being tortured by that lack of sleep, as well as my own demons.