A Little Leakage

Twelve weeks postpartum and I've officially peed my pants. And not even from a sneeze!

In the few weeks after delivery I tended to pee when I sneezed, but today I just peed taking a nice walk!

Seriously, what the hell? I never had these problems right after having Helen, so why am I having them now? It seems to me that the postpartum body is a constantly evolving, ever-changing thing. I'm not quite sure when everything will be back to "normal," but my pelvic floor muscles need to speed it up. 

Guess I need to start doing those kegel exercises everyone talks about . . . though when I'm supposed to find the time to remember to do them is beyond me.

Back to Work . . .

I did it! I successfully made it through my first week back to work without having a nervous breakdown or crying at my desk. Though now the weekend is over and I have to do it all over again . . . A colleague said the Monday after your first weekend would be hard, so here's hoping tomorrow goes well!

I'm working on a lengthier post about becoming a working mom. Hopefully after I get my "sea legs," as it were, the post will make more sense. For now it's just a jumble of thoughts and feelings. Lots of feelings. 

About Yesterday . . .

Just one day after posting about motherly guilt, a friend sent me this article about postpartum practices, or lack thereof, here in America. It's a very interesting read - and definitely a topic that needs more addressing in our society.

Fighting the Guilt Within

Catholic guilt may run deep (and as a papist I would know), but I'm beginning to think the guilt of motherhood is the worst kind of guilt.

I'm going back to work next week after ten weeks at home with my little nugget and I feel so many mixed emotions, guilt being pretty high on the list, and I find myself wondering if I'll ever feel a sense of normalcy again? I know "normal" will be a much different normal from my pre-parent days, but I feel like the past ten weeks were a sort of intermission between acts one and two of my life.

I'm waiting anxiously for my new "normal" because, frankly, I'm not sure how I'll feel once I'm back at work. I like my job, I like working, I like my co-workers and feel lucky in this economy to have a stable job with good benefits. But then . . . I look at my daughters sweet face and I can't imagine handing her over to someone else to nurture and play with and snuggle all day while I sit at a desk, wistfully wishing it was me holding her.

So guilt. So much guilt.

Will it go away? Or will it just get worse?

I fear I'll feel guilty for putting her in day care.

But I'll feel more guilty that I'll like being back at work. There have been hard days over the past ten weeks when I've caught myself thinking "I can't wait until I'm back at work . . ." And then I want to cry along with Helen for feeling so!! I should love every second of my time home with her!

Does anyone else feel like this?

Is anyone else struggling with the internal stay-at-home-mom debate? One day (today for instance) I absolutely believe I would love to stay at home in a few years once we can afford it and give Helen a sibling. But there's another part of me that thinks I'll love being back at work. Working won't make me a bad mother - maybe it will make me a more focused mother because I'll have to make the most of every minute I spend with my little girl.

But if I don't work . . . I don't pay off my student loan debt, my husband does. And yes, while the rational part of my brain knows that just because I wouldn't be "working outside the home," the idea of not working for moeny in my own right while still paying off college debt brings on a whole other kinds of guilt . . .

Does guilt ever end???

Comparing Notes, Not Babies

As a new/young mother, I frequently find myself asking other mom's for advice. Sometimes I follow it, sometimes I don't, but it always makes me feel better to know another mom has been through it and lived to tell the tale.

Comparing notes, as it were, seems to help ease my fears and reassure me that I'm not totally screwing up this whole parenting thing.

But when it comes to comparing babies, that just makes me feel crappy.

We just went in for Helen's two month check up and I was surprised to learn she was only in the 20th percentile for weight. While my husband and our mothers did their best to reassure me it was nothing but a number, I couldn't help the crappy feeling it gave me. Were my breast-feeding efforts not enough? Maybe my milk supply wasn't as good as I thought. Maybe so-and-so's baby was healthier that mine. Maybe my baby was too small . . . my mind went round and round with all the maybes and what-ifs that I kind of went crazy.

Logically I understand why doctors compare weight and length - you can't exactly ask a baby if it's feeling all right. Their measurements are big indicators that they're developing as they should and staying healthy. But I can't help but think the comparing makes mothers a little loopy.