I went through my Facebook inbox a few days ago and if you ever want to get a good glimpse of what you are REALLY like, just re-read messages you’ve sent.
I got a good sense of what a raving lunatic I was in the early postpartum months with my son in late 2008. Let me post some excerpts from messages I sent to a friend (who was also in the postpartum period) so we can all look at how mood-swingy crazy I was:
August 8, four days postpartum:
“Having had two c-sections, all I have to say is NEVER AGAIN. I am NEVER having any more babies, do you hear me? If you ever hear me talking about how nice it would be to have another one, shoot me immediately. I must be talking crazy.
I’m in INCREDIBLE PAIN now, not because of the c-section (although my incision is still throbbing) but because of this damned milk. The lactation consultant officially coined me a “milk goddess” but this ish ain’t cute. I haven’t been able to sleep in three days. Little Thomas nurses, the boob fills RIGHT BACK UP. I’m exhausted and my breasts are like rocks.”
It’s interesting to read this, because I fear that some of the trauma has escaped my mind. I re-read this message and all the pain and irritation came flooding back.
And of course it’s time for the classic “new mommy rant about the husband”:
August 13, nine days postpartum:
Things this way are cool. My mom is off work now, so she’ll be here for the next week and a half. She’s been coming by regularly at night, but now she’ll be here full-time, which is nice. My mom is sooo concerned with us getting enough sleep, which TJ has been getting PLENTY of. I swear I want to hit him with a pillow (or a fist) whenever I’m up at 3:00 a.m. with the baby and he’s flat on his back snoring. THEN he has the nerve to come home from work and take a nap. I’m like, “Um, sir? YOU slept all night. I haven’t gotten more than two hours of sleep since August 4. WAKE UP.” LOL.
I love how I put an “LOL” in there after threatening to punch my husband in the face. Crazy.