New Mothers

So I stopped by my University (Southern Connecticut State University) to drop things off, see people and check my mailbox on Friday. I stopped into a Group Counseling class taught by my friend and colleague, Cheri Smith; and I got to see a bunch of my students, who I miss so much!! In the course of my visit, Cheri asked me (as an impromptu guest speaker), if I was going to make a counseling group for new mothers, what would the themes of discussion be? I answered in the brief 4 minutes that Wilson allowed for me and then had to run to feed the little monkey, but I kept thinking about the question later on that day. What are the psychological and emotional needs of a new mother? Hence, my new post. This is based not only on my experiences, but my developmental psychology training and the experiences of all the new mothers I now know.

• Identity Change. Your identity as a "person" unique and individual to you changes into something else: a parent. It is a little surreal, however. It's not like this just happens overnight or at the delivery of your baby. It really didn't hit me until Wilson was about 3 weeks old that I was a "mom". Your vision of who you are before has to merge with who you are now, as a mother. That may be easier for some than others, depending on what your identity was before. It is not easy to be sexy, quirky, and cute while covered in poop and spit up. For me, I have found that my laid-back attitude, love for academia and humor have persisted into motherhood; right now, however, they are expressed very differently than they were pre-motherhood. Being laid-back means I don't ever freak out at every issue - crying, poop-plosion diapers, his little bump on his head from the birth, etc. My love for academia has evolved into research on baby stuff, writing this blog, staying connected to the faculty and students and watching thought-provoking crime tv shows (which is truly just sad). And my humor has stayed the same; although a 1-month old doesn't appreciate it like my husband or my classes do. Despite your previous identity, however, you find yourself singing everyday tasks (My latest song was: I'm about to change your diaper...Look you pooped! Gross, kid, Gross, kid, Mommy wants to sleep!), making funny faces and cooing at your baby and falling in love with this little beast despite the amount of aversive consequences at first: no sleep, crying in your face and digging you with those tiny wolverine-like fingernails.
• Learning Curve. The amount of new data that needs to be downloaded into your new mommy brain is immense. Lanugo, placenta, lochia, co-sleeper, baby-wearing...the new terms are substantive enough for a new college course. Then the skills you must be able to perform are really quite intense, in terms of the learning curve. Mike and I have, at first, looked like monkeys while we tried to: install the car seat, open the baby stroller, put him in the infant car seat without him screaming bloody murder, pump milk with the "freestyle" pump (big lie) and attach the Madonna-looking hands free bustier (way less sexy than it sounds) for breast milk pumping. I have additionally learned to pick him up with one hand, feed him and burp him while pumping, change a diaper at lightening speeds, calm him when he's freaking out (it involves a combination of jiggling, talking and singing - my son is as weird as me) and how to stay sane with no sleep (that is not a sure thing yet). In fact, while I was trying to write this blog, I had to balance my breastpump while changing and feeding him and letting the 3 dogs outside.
• Conflicting Emotions. There are so many emotions that are linked the crazy hormones you are experiencing postpartum; and in addition, you also are reacting to the-whole-change-of-life thing, which is also emotion-laden. On one hand you are so happy to be a mother, loving and appreciating this new little person in your life. On the other hand, you are sleep deprived, mourning your old life and identity, frustrated, annoyed, exhausted, sad and feel guilty/unappreciative. During the first month, I kept seeing monarch butterflies everywhere, which are a great totem symbolizing change. The great thing about butterflies is that you have to allow the change to happen itself and can't rush it no matter how difficult it is, knowing that at the end of this transition, something truly beautiful will result. I try to remind myself of this at 3 a.m. when Wilson won't go back to sleep for 3 hours.
• Dealing with Perfectionism. Women are really their own worst critics; they not only have lower self-esteem than men, they tend to minimize their positive qualities and strengths. Although I typically have high standards for myself, I tend not to be perfectionistic in nature. But even I felt the pressure of being a "mom". You need to be all, do all and know all or you feel judged. While it's cute for a dad to struggle with understanding his newborn, if a mom feels that way, she feels like something is wrong with her, or worse yet, others treat her that way. Nothing you do will be perfect - you will probably do a lot wrong with your little one, but you need to remember what you are modeling for your child. You try your best and when you don't do something well, you try again, apologize if needed, fix it and move on. You wouldn't want your child to beat themselves up and agonize over their mistakes, so why would you?
• Whim of a Tiny Little Beast. I think one of the hardest things to deal with is that your life is now at the whim of your newborn. When you can eat, pee, shower and spend time with your partner now depends on this new person with their own agenda. It is easy to get frustrated sometimes and it is easy to forget to empathize with your infant, who is struggling to adjust to being alive in the outside world. But either way, it is a difficult adjustment to realize that you are not your own person anymore. Your life is completely at the whim of this tiny little person; and no matter how cute they are, that is a big adjustment.
• Relationship Evolution. Your relationship will absolutely change with your partner, for the better or worse. Everything from who does more with the baby, who sleeps more, who has given up more and how you are both adjusting will be topics of frequent conversation. It's difficult to adjust as an individual to these changes; it is even harder to adjust as a couple. Mike and I have found that we are a great team in taking care of Wilson, but it took us a month after Wilson was born for us to snuggle together on the couch. Your priorities are: baby, sleeping, eating, showering, work, and then your relationship. So, it's easy to take each other for granted, become resentful and forget how much you mean to each other. This is why it's important that you remember who you are as individuals and as a couple.
• Body Changes. You cannot fully prepare for how your body will change and how you will now completely change how you look at your body. No matter what you think, modesty will absolutely leave you in the hospital during labor. Your partner will see things you never wished them to see and you probably won't care, for the most part. But nothing prepares you for the physical changes in pregnancy and after birth. Between the breastfeeding and pumping, the changes in your weight, the possibility of lovely side effects of pregnancy and birth: things like heartburn, gas, hemorrhoids, burping, etc., your love life is likely to take a hit. But at the same time, you are amazed at the ability of your body to create life, which is unlike anything else in the world.
• Breastfeeding. No matter what anyone says about how natural breastfeeding is, I call bullshit. In a culture where we grew up watching breastfeeding and where we experience births with less medical interventions, I am sure that breastfeeding is natural. In our culture, no, no no. Between trying to get the latch correct, everyone telling you incorrect information about breastfeeding, hoping that your nipples don't get sore, bloody and/or cracked (ew) and attaching a mechanical pump to your nipples to pump out milk, the whole thing just feels...wrong. And if you don't want to struggle with this crap anymore, you feel like a totally horrible mother who wants to give her infant poison (otherwise known as formula). I'm totally committed to giving breastmilk to Wilson, so since he has NEVER latched, I have to pump 5 to 7 times a day in addition to supplementing with formula. Even though I keep praying he will latch someday, I wonder if that will even be better; I hear my friends who talk about sore, cracked nipples because their babies struggle with a correct latch. Others struggle with making enough milk and others have too much. However, I'm holding out for the beauty that I still see in breastfeeding; hoping beyond hope that one day we can achieve that. But if not, the pump will continue to be my friend. 
• Being Confident in Your Decisions. Everyone gives you advice about parenting, so one thing you have to learn quite quickly is to trust your own instincts. You will hear lots of contrary advice and some things, particularly from older generations, sound like downright crazy-talk. I have learned to be appreciative and listen to everyone who gives advice, solicited or unsolicited, but I only accept and use that advice that matches my own instincts and sense.
• Your Appreciation for Your Own Parents. Regardless of your relationship with your parents, you realize that at minimum, they kept you alive, which you now realize is a huge accomplishment. They gave birth to you, changed your ridiculous number of diapers, bathed you, fed you and loved you. Watching my mother with my son was an amazing experience for me. It made me realize what a wonderful mother she was to me and how affectionate, loving and nurturing she was (and is). And now she gets to tell me, "I told you so."

There are probably more themes that would emerge, but these are the ones I have noticed in my brief 1-month stint as a parent. But as difficult as this transition is, I find myself looking at my son with wonder, amazement and love. Today he smiled at me and my heart burst with love for this little person, making any amount of pain, transition and difficulty worth every single second.