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The first week with a newborn
By ella | April 8, 2008
I started this when I came home from the hospital. It’s taken me four weeks to write these few words. Yes, I’m just a little bit busier than I thought I would be.
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March 16 2008
Day Zero
I’m moved to the post-natal ward. I can’t feel anything from the waist down which is a blessing judging by the midwives reaction when they look at my perineum, or what’s left of it.
I scoff breakfast even though I’ve just eaten another breakfast on the labour ward. The baby is asleep. Seconds later I fall into a coma which is a mistake because I miss lunch. Have they no idea that a post-partum woman needs food? And lots of it. I raid the kitchen and find my lunch being kept warm. I eat that and then raid the kitchen again. And again. The midwife comes to tell me my baby is awake. I look at her with a mouthful of toast. I would feel more ashamed that I’ve been caught neglecting my baby in favour of food if I wasn’t still so hungry.
The afternoon is filled with visitors. Matthew brings the boys in to meet their new brother but they’re more interested in the presents the baby has brought them. About ten minutes after arriving Ben looks up and with a look of shock and surprise on his face he points and exlaims ‘baby’. I fully expect him to go round to the cot and try and beat him over the head or something but the baby doesn’t register on his radar again. I don’t think he’s expecting the baby to be a permanent addition.
The midwife runs me a bath. I nearly faint when I wash myself and vow not, under any circumstances, to look ‘down there’. The baby is asleep so I fall gratefully into another coma but the midwives have other ideas and wake me in order to stick me full of antibiotics. The anaethesist comes to visit and I have to restrain myself from throwing myself at him and smothering him with hugs and kisses in gratuity for my epidural. Later, the registrar who delivered my baby comes to visit, putting his head round the curtain uncertainly. I smile and he looks just a little bit relieved. He gave me a near-perfect birth, I can just about forgive him for the torture - the incredible torture - he put me through when he broke my waters. Maybe.
Day One
I am ready to go home as soon as the last antibiotics are dripped into me but the midwives are too busy to do the paperwork so I spend the day gazing at my perfect baby and try not to think about how much I miss my other children. I hear the mother across from me sobbing. The curtains are closed but I can’t listen to her crying like that and not see if she’s OK. I spend the next hour with her as she tells me how she and her premature baby were due to go home today until her elder child came down with chickenpox. She’s been in hospital for eight weeks already and now faces another ten days. I can’t say anything to help so I sit with my arm around her. I’ve missed my boys after just three days. I couldn’t fathom weeks without them.
The baby feeds desperately. My milk hasn’t come in and he’s hungry. I’m sore and my nipples are starting to crack and bleed. By the afternoon he’s biting on my nipples in desperation. I ask the midwife for a bottle of formula. I explain that I gave two of my elder children a bottle before my milk came in because they were so big and so hungry. ‘It could stop him breastfeeding,’ the midwife reminds me. I try to reassure her that I will breastfeed exclusively once my milk comes in and it hasn’t been a problem before. She defers to my experience and I realise with horror it is because I have, in her eyes, had So Many Babies. My instincts are right though: the baby gulps half the bottle and falls into a blissful sleep.
We make it home and I sink onto the sofa, sore and tired. But I can’t believe that I’m home the day after giving birth. It’s wonderful.
Day Two
The baby will not sleep. If I put him down he wakes within five minutes, crying. But my milk has come in and he feeds at length. It is agony despite applying Lansinoh religiously. I yelp in pain when he latches on and sit there gripping the sofa cushions. It’s a long, painful, tiring day.
Day Three
I got no sleep last night. Edward spent the night frogging on my chest while I attempted not to fall asleep and smother him. Every time I put him down he woke crying. More feeding pain and the only thing that gets me through it is knowing that the pain doesn’t last for many more days. I wonder if I have the will to last that long.
Day Four
Another night with no sleep and I feel sick with fatigue. The midwife visits and I try to hold it together in front of her. I don’t want her marking me down as having post natal depression. Not if it’s just due to lack of sleep.
Day Five
The baby finally slept a bit last night. That’s the thing about sleep deprivation - just when you think you can’t go on, you get just enough sleep to survive further sleep deprivation, thereby prolonging the agony.
Day Six
I’m a mess today. I can’t stop crying. I’m tired. I have a cracking headache. I miss my dog. I shout at my children. Then I cry some more. Matthew stands back knowing nothing much will help me today. I fall into bed and cry until I fall asleep. But at some ungodly hour, the baby wakes me and I realise gratefully that my headache has gone. I feel less tired and a bit more hopeful about the day to come. As I fall asleep I look at the clock: 04:09. Exactly a week since my son was born. I have survived.
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Read More:
- Breast gymnastics
- The first month with a newborn
- Sibling rivalry and a new baby
- When will my baby sleep through? When?
- Week three with this new baby of mine: longing
Categories: Babies
Hang in there, you’re doing better than you know!
You know what the strange thing is? I read this post and feel all wistful for those early days of babyhood again - sleep deprivation and all. I think I need my head read…
Frally, you do need your head read! I read this post and remembered those awful early days with a newborn and felt so relieved I probably won’t be doing that again!
But, as you know (experienced mother you), it gets SO much better. All the best!
Thank you for sharing this. I’ve been following your pregnancy for a while (from Australia)and checking often for news! Congratulations and you are doing fine, call in any help you can.
I’m due with my third baby in one week’s time so I’m about to follow that particular sickening/joyful roller-coaster ride which is the first few weeks and months with a newborn.
Best wishes.
Best of luck Marilyn
So good to read this and hear your news! Congratulations on your beutiful baby. Thank you too for writing so honestly about the breastfeeding bit. It brought back memories of my experience of feeding Elisha those first few days before the milk came in. Ouch!
Glad to hear you survived. I remember the shock of the first few days with my first baby. I couldn’t believe there was all this stuff going on that nobody had warned me about (like all the bleeding, so much bleeding!) I wish I had read an account like this. Anyway I hope things are going a bit easier for you now and you are getting a bit of sleep
you know it will get better. and you’ll look back on the sleepless night etc with fond wisdom - eventually…. Glad you are ok. the poor woman in hospital….
Congratulations on your beautiful son! I hope he starts sleeping for longer stretches soon so you can get some rest. I remember that feeling, when THREE WHOLE HOURS of sleep felt so good!
Congratulations, he is such a beautiful boy! Oh you brought all those memories back about surviving day by day with my three babies. Just hang in there, and I pray for more sleep for you!
This definitely brings back memories! For me the worst was the engorgement when my milk came in. It was so uncomfortable for the first few days. I do not miss that. I DO miss holding a baby that doesn’t wriggle out of my arms so she can walk on her own. That did not last nearly long enough! Wishing you lots of rest and quiet time with your littlest one…
I remember those exhausted days…Now I’m tired for other reasons! I miss holding a baby who doesn’t squirm away so she can run around with her big brother and sister. This time will slip by quickly! Enjoy it!
Someday, Edward will look back at these words and thank his lucky stars that his mom had the foresight to capture these incredibly important, fleeting moments in writing.
He is absolutely beautiful. May he always be a blessing to you and your family, and may you always have such happy moments to share.