On the 29th of April 2015 at abut 12pm, 4 days after birth, my hubby left me at home alone with the baby for the first time. While baby napped, I cleaned the washroom, something I hadn’t done in awhile. I felt useful and ecstatic to be able to take care of home. We joked about how I was going hard at the cleaning and that I should actually be laid down, feet up; but is unable to sit still. About an hour after he left to run errands, the baby was up. It was a change/feed cycle that we were just getting used to, in addition to learning baby’s cues. I changed my son and had a bottle on hand to start a feeding. He was erratic, screaming in the worse way and continuously stiffening his body. He was turning more and more reddish orange with every wail and I had no idea what the hell was going on. He wouldn’t eat and then he started foaming at the mouth and hitting himself while turning his head left to right. I thought I was in the twilight zone; alone. He then gave himself a big hit to the nose and a ton of mucus flew out. I was in disarray. I lost it and pretty soon I was wailing far more and harder than he was. I immediately called my husband to come home and as much as I tried he sensed the panic in my voice and kept asking me what was wrong. Unfortunately I did not know. All I thought was that I hurt the child and was now pleading with the gods to not let my child die.
Daddy decided we would go to the doctors right away just to ensure all was well. We packed son, his pooed in diaper, the bulb syringe I used to try to pull some of the mucus out and a heavy heart. I was a mess. I had passed a point of no return and physically could not stop crying. Tear after tear kept falling and I could not hold my hurt and shock in, no matter how much I tried. As time passed I got worse, in the waiting room I was a mess but tried my best to contain myself. As the doctor checked our son, I tried so hard to hold it together but I believed he sensed something. I was constantly asked if there was anything he could do for me, if I needed his help with anything and if I had any issues I needed to talk to him about. I of course said no to all of the above and made son the center of focus for our visit. I had even broken out in hives due to an allergic reaction to penicillin I received in the hospital but was so caught up I hadn’t mentioned it. When he said we were doing a good job and that baby was a-ok, the tears began to flow again. This time, I’m not sure if this was due to feeling stupid. Every baby has mucus on their chest and will be trying to bring it up as they get older. We did not know that or knew what we should be looking for in new newborns. I felt like a failure. I couldn’t handle myself and my husband was getting pretty annoyed with my disposition.
After the visit, we went to Wal-Mart where I got into a fit with my husband and when he snapped at me, asking why everything has to be a problem, I lost it again. This time I demanded the keys and bawled the entire way to the car where I stayed until he was done shopping. Again, another round of tears and wailing, this time in a hot untinted car, stationed in a busy parking lot. This time I felt alone, like I couldn’t depend on even my husband to understand what I was going through and respect that I needed some time. We went home at once when he came back to the car and when we got home I locked myself in the washroom where I spent a good hour or more just crying uncontrollably. I hadn’t touched my son since my husband came to our rescue and I felt no way about leaving him in the car seat when we walked through our apartment doors. I love my son and will do anything for him, but I had so much anxiety I felt disconnected. I never wanted to touch him for fear of hurting him and disappointing myself more.