But at least we are both healthy.

In the weeks, and months, that came after my sons birth day, we went through a lot.

Because he had breathed in amniotic fluid and muconeum following the cesarean, my son was in the NICU for a week while his breathing stabilized. He battled jaundice, dehydration and failure to thrive.  We had trouble breastfeeding because of the delay after birth, the CPAP machine, the monitors, and the horrid nurses who had no patience to help me at all.  Although he was 9 pounds, 15 ounces when he was born, he was down to 8 pounds 2 ounces before my milk finally arrived on day five.  The antibiotics that they had pumped into me during labor (since I was GBS+), had not only delayed my milk for five days, but also triggered a massive case of thrush in both of us.

But at least we were both healthy.

It took eight weeks to rid of us the thrush.  It’s taken a lot longer to to not sob when I think of his birth.  The nightmares began to wane, but with the recent talk to TTC again, they have returned a couple of nights each week.

It took me ten months to admit to myself that I had PPD.  That it wasn’t my Thyroid, or stress at work, or adjusting to a routine, or lack of sleep.  Even when I  did finally talk to the doctor, I was too embarrassed to admit to the nightmares.  The military takes mental disorders very seriously.  It could have a very serious impact on my career…  What if they think I am unfit to continue serving? So I stayed quiet.

But at least we are both healthy.

I started reaching out to others.  Slowly breaking my silence.  Taking bittersweet comfort in the stories of others facing the same birth demons.  There are so many of us out there.  Many who have friends, colleagues, family, and even spouses who just don’t understand.  How do you put into words the craving of birth?  How do explain the disconnect of your child being born, but not birthing them, if they haven’t felt it themselves?

But at least we are both healthy.

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