Sweet Yet Sour

Despite what Tom Cruise has to say about it, postpartum depression (I’m calling it postpartum crazy) exists, and I challenge the sanity of any woman who says that she didn’t experience it after their children are born (especially the first). I can’t see how you could get around it during the first few weeks.

Let’s review some of the triggers and symptoms of the Postpartum Crazy period for me:

1. First, Anna is six weeks old and I have been writing this post in my head since week two and have only now been able to sit down to even begin writing the post. That’s how completely busy I have been.

2. During the last few weeks of my pregnancy, when people would ask how I was, sometimes I would answer with something like, “I don’t sleep – I just can’t get comfortable and I get up to pee 5 times a night.” More times than not the person would smirk and say, “Get used to it.” It was the smirk that always made me mad, as if somehow they were getting pleasure out of knowing that I would soon be a zombie.

And yes, it’s true, I am generally up several times a night, about every two hours, with Anna duty. Sometimes I feed her, change her, and get her calmed down enough for her to go back to sleep only to have to wake up again in an hour to do the whole thing again. Who wouldn’t go crazy with a schedule like that?

3. This lack of sleep has multiple affects, the first being that I am of course tired, but also that I am forgetful, grumpy and a little loopy. The other day I changed the baby, only to forget that I had already changed the baby 10 minutes later and advised Mike that Anna needed to be changed again.

4. I also am unable to carry on a conversation a lot of the time because I can’t remember words for things other than “diapers” and “wipes”. I’d love to talk about world events and politics with someone, but unless Hilary and Obama start having a discussion about whether cloth or disposable diapers are best, I don’t think I can contribute to a meaningful conversation!

5. The other day, during a quiet period while Anna slept in her swing, I watched the “Ellen” show for a few minutes of rest. Beckham was on, talking about how he and Posh Spice loved kids and wanted more. In my postpartum loopiness I actually wasted time wondering whether or not Posh has a nanny, because I couldn’t imagine wanting to be up at all hours with another child anytime soon. And then I wondered if Posh has stretch-marks and if she breastfed. Isn’t it a sure indication that I have lost my mind that I even spent any time at all wondering if Victoria Beckham has stretch-marks?

6. I was in the shower the other day and had to seriously consider, “Will my regular Suave shampoo get the spit up and lanolin out of my hair, or should I go for the Prell?” I went for the Prell in the end and it seems to have done the job. But eww…

7. The incident above was on one of the rare days when I actually get a shower. Some days, and sometimes several days in a row I don’t get the chance to shower. There are just some days where if I set the baby down, she cries inconsolably and I haven’t yet figured out a way to shower and hold the baby. By the time that Mike is home and I have an opportunity for a shower, I’m either too busy getting the things done that absolutely require two hands or too tired to do anything but conk out.

8. I have also found that even the two minutes that it takes for my electric toothbrush to run its full cycle is too long on those “colicky” days of Anna’s. I very rarely have the time to put her down and run through the full cycle, unless I do it while holding the baby at the same time – which means that really, only one side of my mouth is really getting the full benefit of the tooth-brushing.

I end up spending many days not having showered or brushed my teeth completely, never mind putting deodorant on, and with my hair up because it’s the best way to prevent the over the shoulder spit up from ending up somewhere in the tangles.

I’ve never been a “girly-girl”; I wear make-up rarely, skirts almost never and have found that if I paint my fingernails I’m so distracted by the color I can’t type but instead stare at my hands. But I’ve found myself so disgusted with my own un-cleanliness that I go overboard when I do get the chance to clean up. A few weeks ago Mike gave me the opportunity to go out while he took care of the baby; I was so overjoyed at the relief from my stinky-ness that I showered and wore heels to go to the grocery store!

So, if you come for a visit and something smells, it could be Anna’s diaper, or it could be me, her postpartum crazy mom…