Tales of a House Wife

Chapter 6: A Desperate Housewife Well, not two hours after Jimmy left, I did regret my choice to be a stay-at-home mom. Newborns were a lot more difficult when you were alone as opposed to when you had help. I was overwhelmed with grief because Jimmy wasn't home. This was not going to be easy. By nine o'clock that morning I was still in my pajamas, but I managed to change Chelsea twice when she had peed through her small diaper. She was so small that her diaper didn't cover her completely. There was still a tiny crack that the urine would find and flow out of. I continued to nurse her every four hours or so. She had done a wonderful job feeding, but I had become chapped and sore from the job. I started to give her a bottle, which was a no-no in the breastfeeding world. I just felt I had to. I was working with my doctor, her pediatrician, and a lactose consultant. I was very emotional and felt I had failed being a mother. And it was only two weeks into the process. I couldn't feed my daughter the natural way full time. She was in wet clothes constantly and I wasn't getting a grip on her gas problem. I started to realize I didn't know all there was to know. I thought I would be strong, vital, and could wthstand not having a full eight hours sleep. But now totally sleep deprived, with sore breasts, and crying most of the day, I knew I needed help. I managed to change into a pair of sweats and a sweatshirt while Chelsea was napping. The dishes were done. I made some eggs and read some material I had received from the hospital on the ten things to do if your baby is crying. I read you should check the diaper, or see if the baby is hungry, check for a fever or swaddle it in a comfortable soft blanket. After two weeks of guessing, I found the answer! If I would've known all those two weeks before then, maybe my time as a mom wouldn't have been so difficult. By twelve o'clock Chelsea had woken from her slumberand I changed her diaper, got ocmfortable in the rocking chair, and proceeded to breastfeed. I looked down at her and all of a sudden, I felt like I was mastering this. I was able to eat breakfast, change into clothes, and my hair looked half decent. I was relsihing the fact I had more knowledge on how to run my day. As long as she slept, I could get stuff done. All was quiet, and suddenly the doorbell rang. I had to put my sweatshirt back on, with Chelsea upset at the venue. I got to the door and saw flowers had been delivered. Honeslty, Chelsea cried for an hour after those flowers had been delivered. Her lunch was cut short, but now it seemed that both of our worlds have come crashing down. That day, I made a "no soliciting" sign for our door that also stated, "please leave any deliveries on the outside of the door, baby sleeping." I never felt guilty for stepping up and realizing that the phone ringing or the unexpected doorbell could interrup a wonderful moment. As Chelsea got older, she demanded more of my time. I just learned to do chores around her resting. I would also try to sneak a nap in the afternoon when she did. One of the greatest inventions to help her nap, which Jimmy and I truly appreciated, was her swing. She would sleep in that for hours! Some fussy nights, Jimmy would put her in there and get some sleep himself on the couch! It was a miracle in the making that she could sleep in that. A couple of times I brought it in our bedroom. I'd let her fall alseep in it. And as she slept, I'd turn it off and take a nap myself with her lounging in her swing, out cold. Those were the best moments when you find something as precious as that. She was a total binky baby. I always had binkies in the car, my room, her room, the diaper bag, my Mom's house. It was pathetic. But again, it helped us out so we used them. By now I had learned the keys to a happy baby: Meet her needs, and then yours. Eat dinner after she's in bed or you'll never get to. Bathe as fast as you can, and it's okay to neglect shaving your legs for a week or so. Let the answering machine pick up the messages and return the call as soon as you can. And oh, leave the sign up on your door for "no solicitors" and "packages can be left on steps." It was a tiring first two months but we were making head way. I wasn't crying every time she would. Instead I would use my reasoning and take care of her the only way I knew how-the way Chelsea wanted me to. It took a lot of love, soft light, and music, and Jimmy or myself rocking her until she feel into a deep sleep. I was desperate for a child-one of my own I could nurse, purchase clothes for, or show off at the mall. I was desperate for a baby I could show pictures of to a stranger, or I couldl enjoy the first touch after her birth. I was desperate to finally tell my husband we were expecting. I was desperate to have the baby shower I had always dreamt about, instead of going to a friend or family member's baby shower. I was desperate to be a mom. I became desperate knowing she didn't come with a book on how to manage and care for her myself. I truly became a desperate mother who was indeed on the brink of post partum depression.