My son E is nearly 1 month old, and as a First Time Mom this is supposed to be the most tiring, stressful, fulfilling and happy time of our lives. The first month is supposed to be filled with sleepless nights, bouts of tears, uncontrollable hormones, endless diaper changes and feedings. I looked forward to every little bit of it, particularly because I am to return to work very soon.
Up until this point I believed that I could be Super First Time Mom. I could not only recover from a C-Section, take care of my newborn, take care of my sick husband, and take care of myself when I became ill. Well, like all plans no matter how much planning- I failed. This may sound like me whining but believe me it is not, this is me getting all of this guilt off of my chest.
For the past two weeks, I have sat in my bed with my newborn son E lying in his bed next to me unable to hold him, breastfeed him, or soothe his crying. After a C-Section, and bout with the flu my immune system gave up on me when I needed it the most, and I became ill with Shingles. People usually have Shingles flare up after the age of 50 but for me its about 25 years to early. After a full hour of cussing out every person that I came into contact with who had germs, a cold, the flu- all while covering my newborn sons ears, the doctor broke the news that I couldn’t handle my newborn son until this had passed because i was highly contagious.
For many people not familiar with Shingles, the virus is a remnant of Chicken Pox, it never leaves your body. It is an after thought of a childhood illness, and those around you that have never had Chicken Pox are highly susceptible, and for my husband and newborn son extreme caution needed to be taken. While the “lesion” as it is called is red, itchy, and showing I am highly contagious, and no part of me should be scratched for fear of more breakouts. The attack of the nerves system is the worst because your body actually hurts like you have been trampled a dozen times.
No matter how much I cried, or asked for my newborn son, my nurse Foofoo (who is my older sister) and husband would not hand over my son to me, for fear that even though all my intentions were very natural and maternal, if my newborn son contracted Chicken Pox, I would feel guiltily. I thought back on all the times during my pregnancy that I complained about back pain, upset stomach, or kidney issues and today i would take all of those if it meant that I did not have to lie in bed in and hear me him cry next to me, or be able to rock him to sleep. This very morning I was able to wobble out of bed, pick up my son for the first time, and hold him, breastfeed him, burp him, and rock him to sleep.
I have never felt incandescently happy as I did in any other event in my life as I did this morning when I picked up my newborn son. To some people it is the simplest thing picking up their child, but to me it was the most fulfilling I have felt since finding out I was pregnant and responsible for the care of another being. I do not know if I will ever get past the guilt of the last two weeks, it is not like binge eating. I do not know if I should try to make up for it in the future with Baby E? Or if I should take from it and disregard it and continue to hobble around my house?
Something I have learned early on is to cherish every moment you have with your children even more- even if it is only your first
thatsnotmyboob 