Sunday, May 22, 2011
Aiyana is almost one week old and we've been home from
the hospital since Thursday at 9:30pm. We felt so excited and ready to come
home! Now that we're here though, the nights have been pretty rough. The first
night was the worst. We have Aiyana sleeping in a "co-sleeper" which is like the
top of a bassinet with mesh walls for a barrier between us. Aiyana actually
slept great -- hours at a time! Dan and I, on the other hand, stayed awake for
hours before daring to close our eyes, and then independent of each other, we
woke up frequently to check on her. In the morning, we talked about how scared
we both were when for just a moment, we thought . . . (I hate even writing
this.) We truly thought she was dead. That instant horror . . . I feel sick even
writing about it so I won't go into details. But it's safe to say we're both
pretty paranoid. I think every parent worries about SIDS to a certain degree.
But now we not only have the fear that it could happen. We also have
the haunting memories to go along with it.
I'm having the most awful flashbacks again. Aiyana feels too light, too limp when she's sleeping and I can't help but wake her up sometimes. My milk came in on Friday and I've tried to pump her full, hoping to fatten her up and help her grow up a little faster. But then this whole scenario makes me sad. . . I don't want her to grow up so fast. She's so small and adorable like she is. Fear is tainting my experience of motherhood, just as I anticipated. I want to just enjoy being a mom again, and yet returning to this stage with its accompanying memories is even harder than I imagined.
I stay up until 3 . . .4 . . . 5 in the morning, too afraid to shut my eyes for longer than 15, maybe 30 minutes sometimes because I'm compelled to put my hand on Aiyana's chest and feel those baby breaths. Night time has become the enemy. The closer to sunset, the heavier the dread that fills my body. There's just something about the dark and feeling tired and vulnerable that makes everything worse. It's like fearing slipping into a nightmare. . . I can handle the nights of interrupted sleep to feed her and care for her. It's the emotional toll of panic and momentary hysteria that is weighing me down. I can't even tell you the number of times each day and night, every hour, that I've hurried over to see if my baby is still alive. That should not be a normal routine!
Dan, too, has been struggling. We've been praying and reading scriptures together still, doing our best to invite the Spirit into our room before we try to sleep. We even asked our very good friend Elias, whom we love and trust so much as a "spiritual giant" in our lives, to give us each a blessing of comfort. The Spirit was very strong as he blessed us, and if I had perfect faith, I should be able to believe his words and have no fear whatsoever. But I have been unable to hold onto that comfort Elias brought us on the Lord's behalf. How I wish my faith was stronger! Satan is working hard to ruin this experience for us. Dan and I are doing our best to fight back.
Still, despite all these emotions, Dan and I do absolutely love our daughter. In the hospital, I don't think I could quite believe she was mine just yet. But the more we've had her in our lives and I've watched the double-chin she was born with thicken, along with her cute kissable cheeks, I can't stand to be away from her. Fear discourages me from laying her down all by herself, but my love and adoration for holding her also plays a role in this behavior. She is just so cute! And Dan didn't stand a chance -- he was smitten with her from day one. His interactions with her are so cute to watch, with a loving protectiveness all ready exhibiting itself. Sometimes Dan will use familiar phrases that make us both look at each other with reminiscent smiles because they are phrases he used to say with Ty, such as: "Those dang hiccum-ups!" when hiccups become a constant interruption, or "I know, I know. Mom makes me mad, too," when she's particularly upset. (I'm still not a fan of that one!)
Dan and I make a good team together. Dan has been so patient with Aiyana and helpful in any way he can, whether it's cleaning the house or organizing our excessive baby "stuff" in our room for easy access before bedtime. And, of course, he loves to snuggle with her and have his "Daddy time". We also love having all three of us in bed together, with Aiyana resting safely in the co-sleeper between us.
We have so much emotional work to do. The only way we can get through this (even when I break down and cry and wonder how I can possibly handle the fear) is through prayer and inviting the Spirit into our lives as much as possible. Little by little, the fear will go away. I believe this, even if it's not happening fast enough for my own desired timeline. I have to remind myself it has not even been a week. I don't want to go through this, but it seems to be part of the experience I am anchored to. We'll make it through.
If all of you could send a few extra prayers our way for a while, I know it will help.
Thank you and much love in return!
I'm having the most awful flashbacks again. Aiyana feels too light, too limp when she's sleeping and I can't help but wake her up sometimes. My milk came in on Friday and I've tried to pump her full, hoping to fatten her up and help her grow up a little faster. But then this whole scenario makes me sad. . . I don't want her to grow up so fast. She's so small and adorable like she is. Fear is tainting my experience of motherhood, just as I anticipated. I want to just enjoy being a mom again, and yet returning to this stage with its accompanying memories is even harder than I imagined.
I stay up until 3 . . .4 . . . 5 in the morning, too afraid to shut my eyes for longer than 15, maybe 30 minutes sometimes because I'm compelled to put my hand on Aiyana's chest and feel those baby breaths. Night time has become the enemy. The closer to sunset, the heavier the dread that fills my body. There's just something about the dark and feeling tired and vulnerable that makes everything worse. It's like fearing slipping into a nightmare. . . I can handle the nights of interrupted sleep to feed her and care for her. It's the emotional toll of panic and momentary hysteria that is weighing me down. I can't even tell you the number of times each day and night, every hour, that I've hurried over to see if my baby is still alive. That should not be a normal routine!
Dan, too, has been struggling. We've been praying and reading scriptures together still, doing our best to invite the Spirit into our room before we try to sleep. We even asked our very good friend Elias, whom we love and trust so much as a "spiritual giant" in our lives, to give us each a blessing of comfort. The Spirit was very strong as he blessed us, and if I had perfect faith, I should be able to believe his words and have no fear whatsoever. But I have been unable to hold onto that comfort Elias brought us on the Lord's behalf. How I wish my faith was stronger! Satan is working hard to ruin this experience for us. Dan and I are doing our best to fight back.
Still, despite all these emotions, Dan and I do absolutely love our daughter. In the hospital, I don't think I could quite believe she was mine just yet. But the more we've had her in our lives and I've watched the double-chin she was born with thicken, along with her cute kissable cheeks, I can't stand to be away from her. Fear discourages me from laying her down all by herself, but my love and adoration for holding her also plays a role in this behavior. She is just so cute! And Dan didn't stand a chance -- he was smitten with her from day one. His interactions with her are so cute to watch, with a loving protectiveness all ready exhibiting itself. Sometimes Dan will use familiar phrases that make us both look at each other with reminiscent smiles because they are phrases he used to say with Ty, such as: "Those dang hiccum-ups!" when hiccups become a constant interruption, or "I know, I know. Mom makes me mad, too," when she's particularly upset. (I'm still not a fan of that one!)
Dan and I make a good team together. Dan has been so patient with Aiyana and helpful in any way he can, whether it's cleaning the house or organizing our excessive baby "stuff" in our room for easy access before bedtime. And, of course, he loves to snuggle with her and have his "Daddy time". We also love having all three of us in bed together, with Aiyana resting safely in the co-sleeper between us.
We have so much emotional work to do. The only way we can get through this (even when I break down and cry and wonder how I can possibly handle the fear) is through prayer and inviting the Spirit into our lives as much as possible. Little by little, the fear will go away. I believe this, even if it's not happening fast enough for my own desired timeline. I have to remind myself it has not even been a week. I don't want to go through this, but it seems to be part of the experience I am anchored to. We'll make it through.
If all of you could send a few extra prayers our way for a while, I know it will help.
Thank you and much love in return!
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