what to expect postpartum

I’ve been waiting to feature Roxanne for a long, long time.  Finally the day has arrived!  Roxanne’s blog is witty, raw, and honest.  I love her.  And hope you will enjoy this great piece on what to expect postpartum!

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Hello Nap Time is My Time readers. I am thrilled (and a bit surprised) to be a contributor over at Emily’s place.  For my first guest post ever I thought about writing a recipe or a funny story about the kids, but wanted it to be memorable. Since Emily’s audience is a ginormous mix of wonderful women I didn’t want to leave you with another crock pot chilli at the end.

Ladies, I am using Emily’s blog to expose the truth, uncover the hidden, and BLOW. THE. WHISTLE. If you are pregnant or TTC, I (having been in your shoes) know what expectations you have. I read a ton of books when I was pregnant for the first time on how to “handle” my newborn. From sleeping habits, to feeding schedules, changing, bathing, holding, playing, etc, etc, etc. It was truly information overload, but at the time I wanted to be an expert, be prepared, know everything I needed to know, and hit the ground running (with my baby in a Baby Bjorn, of course). Come show time (otherwise known as the birth of my first son), I didn’t know it all.

1. Post Baby Weight. Yes, I left the hospital still looking ten months pregnant. At the time it was the furthest thing from my mind, however I had envisioned being able to wear my old clothes, and look like my old self again after delivery. I believe I rocked my maternity pants a good three months after delivering my son, and even a year later down to my pre baby weight, things have shifted and settled it the strangest places, i.e. back fat.

2. Breastfeeding Is Hard. We’re all too familiar with the TV version of delivery and birth. The baby pops out after three pushes, the new mommy brings her newborn to breast and the little one nurses, while a tear falls down the new poppa’s cheek with joy. Nnnnnoooooo! Without a lactation consultant, a breastfeeding pillow, a pump, and a permanent kink in my neck, getting my son to latch on to a cherry flavoured candy breast was proving to be impossible. I felt like a failure, completely defeated, and everyone around me confirmed those feelings. Yeah! For those who can, and do! My kids were fed pumped milk for a while and then formula. They are fine, and by the way I was kidding about the candy breast, but what an idea.

3. The Hormone Roller Coaster. I was in control of everything I said, did, and felt. When I returned from the hospital, it was a completely different story. It was like someone served me a tall glass of overwhelmed, sleep deprived, irritated, confused, and scared with a few shots of vodka. It was all a blur, and though that could have been the drugs for the first few days, it was months of weeping when my son wouldn’t latch, paranoia that he would forget to breathe while he was sleeping, and don’t even get me started on the anger I had toward Award Winning Dad when he would utter a “hello”. Who was I?

4. Revolving Door Guests. Now this may not bother everyone, but just putting it out there. There should be a miss manners book for guests who visit after a baby. At the time I thought I would love to show my newborn off to everyone, however I was not prepared for guests to visit for hours on end, expecting to be fed lunch or dinner on their five hour long visit. I wanted to sleep or lie down, but felt guilty having people come to see the baby and I.

5. Advice. Or should I say unsolicited advice. I had people telling me what to feed the baby, how to hold the baby, bathe him, and carry him, how to put him to sleep, how to dress him, etc, etc, etc. Oh and it did not stop there, people did not hold back on what I should eat, when to sleep, what to wear, etc,etc. “You should be doing this”, “you shouldn’t be using that”, “I used to do it this way”, “I never did that to my baby”. AHHHHHHHHH, it was too much. I rarely ever give advice unless it’s asked for, and the few times I have slipped Award Winning Dad reminds me how much I hated it.

What failed expectations did you have?

I wanted to thank Emily for being so brave to allow me to guest post, and will apologize in advance for those few readers she may lose.

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You love her now, don’t you?

Roxanne is married to the smartest guy on earth (obviously if he married her), and she is mom to two wonderful boys who have sugar running through their veins. She lives in Ontario,  Canada.   As she stumbles through this journey as a mom, it is clear that she is no expert, there are no awards in my future, and she measures her success by whether her kids are clean, dry, and fed before bed.    I’m guessing that she IS winning mom of the year!    You can find her on Twitter,  Facebook, and her blog.