A short memoir series of my experience with my last born child
Mental health is finally being taken seriously and with respect. It is finally right there at the front of self care beside physical health. It only took centuries to get to this point that we care for those suffering with mental illness instead of throwing them in an insane asylum or slapping labels on them. Postpartum depression lies under the umbrella of mental health. Thankfully, more and more women are coming out and talking about their struggle with it after giving birth. They call it the 4th trimester. It is a hard time for many mothers who suffer from it; however, what is not being talked about are those mothers’ who also have a colicky baby….
I am going to share my story as a mother, a woman, who was diagnosed with postpartum depression and whose son was diagnosed “colicky”. The combination is one that is never talked about but that desperately needs to be. I hope this memoir sheds some much needed light on the combo, or rather the colicky shadow.
This wasn’t my first rodeo. I was about to give birth to my third child, my last born. I was finally at a point in my life where things were going great. I had a successful career, a beautiful farmhouse in a beautiful historic town, with a beautiful pond across the way. I had a doting and attentive husband, two great kids (ages 13 and 6), and a growing online business side hustle. My psychotic ex had disappeared, for the time being, so we weren’t having to deal with litigated lawsuits or harassment. I was able to rebuild my savings account, focus on self-care, and enjoy the peace and contentment I had finally found.
I was 34. I had a pretty interesting life with numerous twists and turns that would thrill any reader if I ever had time to write it all down (someday). I was proud of how far I had come. I was looking forward to giving birth to my last child, getting my tits fixed, and getting fit and sexy again. Life was great.
My birth story wasn’t anything spectacular. I suffered through the worst type of labor, back labor, had to push on my hands and knees till the baby would turn because he was in the wrong direction, but all and all, it went rather smoothly. He came right out, crying and immediately wanting his momma. I remember when they brought him to my chest as I had turned over at that point to embrace him. His crying had died down while his naked body clung to me. I remember his lips parting, his heart settling while he listened to my shushing and soothing voice. I cried. I had never cried during either of my first two births, but with him, it was different. I immediately felt connected to him. It was like I could feel that he needed me, and he knew he did.
I did not really focus long on that foreign new feeling I had just witnessed. I was too busy securing a contract with a new client while laying in my hospital bed, breastfeeding a baby in one hand and finger banging my phone in the other. I was a happy, successful woman, remember? A woman who finally had her life together, who learned to put herself first and bring in money from numerous channels to secure a cozy retirement someday…. This was me. Whatever I had felt, I had quickly forgotten. And it wasn’t until four months later where I would have an epiphany and remember that fleeting feeling with newfound understanding.
The first night with him was immediately different. My first two children had slept hours, exhausted from the birthing ordeal they survived. Not Oliver. He was wide awake from the moment we touched. He wanted me, and only me. I wasn’t able to get the much-needed sleep I needed from the birthing ordeal either, but not by choice. Nevertheless, this was my third child, so I knew what to expect, even though that first night surprised me. I shrugged it off. Eventually, he would be sleeping all the time as newborns do for the first few weeks, and life would settle into a smooth routine…I told myself.
Stay tuned for Chapter two.
Podcast episodes coming soon.
THE STORY OF A DIGITAL STORYTELLER
I am just a girl who loves being kind. I love to listen to everything around me. I would much rather be on my porch, wrapped up in a plaid blanket with a warm cup of Hot Toddy, looking out amongst the Cascades displayed before me. I live in a farmhouse with my husband and three children here in Oregon. It is true; everything about the Pacific Northwest is magical. The smell, the wind, the scenery, and the feeling of that magic will engulf your every moment here. It is here where I am inspired every day and how that inspiration is transferred into my work.
Born and raised in Cupertino, (Silicon Valley) California, it married into the military and have traveled and lived all over the world. I started Shaunna K in 2007 while living abroad in Germany for a couple of years. Photography and graphic design was what I loved doing for clients that were from all corners of the globe. I ended up referring to both those things as design and therefore continued to expand my business around that.