Uncharted Territory

I have never, ever known a love like this. Ever.

I love Kelly from the deepest parts of my heart. I would die for her if that meant that I could save her life. There is nothing that I wouldn't do for her. There is no limit to the love that I have, and it's 10 years strong.

But the love that I feel for Bailey has no equal.

For the the first 6 months of Bailey's life, I didn't feel love like this. I am now educated enough about the effects of post partum to know that my lack of deep connection to Bailey was not my fault. It took me three months to seek help, but when I did, things started to heal. It took three months for the post partum to stop and I have now been without Prozac for 4 weeks.

Clarity has come about quite a bit. The biggest piece of clarity is about my relationship with Kelly. In a word, I was so jealous. Jealous of Bailey and the love that I saw her getting from Kelly.

It sounds horrible, even to me...and I now understand it. It is another part of our story, though, and one that I'm not willing to hide from. I didn't understand what Kelly was feeling when Bailey was born, because I wasn't able to feel much of anything. I was numb. Kelly was feeling what I am now lucky enough to feel.

If you're a parent, you're probably nodding and understanding without my description what I am about to say. I can now understand what people were talking about when they said it was all worth it. I can understand what it feels like to have everything else in my life come after Bailey. I miss her when I'm not with her and the kind of joy that I feel when I am with her is unequaled. Honestly, I've never felt this way. Ever.

Let me paint a picture for you so that maybe you can understand the journey to this point.

When Bailey was born, I was sick. Not just postpartum sick - but actually physically sick. I had lost nearly 2/3 of the blood in my body. My birth experience was NOTHING like I had wanted it to be. I was unable to breast feed. Bailey was huge and holding her for hours hurt so bad. I was weak, I was constantly tired from the lack of blood and the lack of sleep. I was confused because I never felt that rush of love that every mother talks about. I honestly believed that I was a failure - because I couldn't have a vaginal birth, because I couldn't breast feed, because I couldn't stop Bailey from crying...but mostly because I couldn't shake the thought that I had made the worst mistake of my life. We were alone. We had no family around to help us. Kelly was trying to care of me, care of a newborn and prepare herself to go back to work after three weeks. We didn't eat properly, we didn't sleep properly and just when things started to even out a little, Bailey developed colic. When Kelly went back to work, I was alone with Bailey. All day long. I was still weak from my surgery and loss of blood. I was loopy from the pain killers that I was still on. I was constipated from the massive doses of iron that they kept me on to help replenish my blood loss. Bailey was miserable and in pain and nothing that I did could help. When Kelly got home, she was immediately thrown into dealing with me and caring for Bailey. We had no time to just be in peace. We had nobody to come over and take Bailey for a few hours to let us reconnect. We were getting very little feedback from anyone about how we were doing, because we didn't have anyone around. Our relationship suffered from lack of care, from the frustration we were both feeling with our inability to cope and from my inability to adjust to our new world. I constantly felt trapped, scared, alone and more often than not, I hated that I had become a parent.

And this went on for three months without reprieve. Without a break. Without stopping. Without even the slightest indication from internal or external sources that it would somehow, some day, feel different.

Worse yet, we were one of a set of three in our area that had children within the same time period. Our friend, Olivia, had given birth 10 weeks prior. And her birth experience was anything but easy. And yet, she seemed to love her child, love parenting and be acclimating like a champion. 6 weeks afer Bailey was born, our dear friends Monica and Susanne welcomed their child into the world. And again, we watched as they breastfed without problem and turned their lives into a wonderful place for their son.

Even worse still, my brother and his wife had a child. My sister-in-law and her husband welcomed their daughter. Both families seemed relatively unscathed by the adjustments, even when it was difficult.

Now, I am not stupid enough to believe that it was easy for anyone. It is always a huge transition to bring a child into a family. But none of them seemed to hate their child. They would all talk about how it was tough...but worth it. I saw the couples pulling together to make it work, rather than pulling away from each other. I listened as each told me about the family they had coming over or flying in to help out.

And I compared myself and just sunk deeper. Daily, I had to watch my wife fall in love with our child and I had to wonder what the hell was wrong with me. Why did I want to cry with relief when she was taken from my arms? Why did I sob at night while I was holding her and trying to sing her to sleep? Why did the touch of her hands or the sound of her cries make me cringe? Why did every dream I had of my birth experience and her infancy prove to be false? Why did my wife never look at me? Why was I all alone?

And the biggest question of all...the unanswerable question that left me contemplating suicide one morning...how could I make this stop?

Turns out human beings can only take so much before they crack under it all, and I cracked. I broke apart into tiny shards of the person that I was and lost my fucking mind for a while.

Meanwhile, it still never stopped. I have never felt so hopeless in my entire life.

I can understand a lot now. Kelly never stopped seeing me...but she could only carry so much. She was working full time, learning how to be a mother for the first time, carrying the entire load of my emotional baggage. She was tired. Like I just said, one person can only carry so much. She rightly chose to carry Bailey. And all that failure I was feeling was a chemical imbalance created by pregnancy hormones. I can see that now. I can understand now. But, boy, I didn't understand then.

It's taken about 4 months - but I am well on my way to healed. Kelly and I are doing okay. We've survived a lot in our love and we survived this too. And as for Bailey, well...it seems that while I might have thought I was fucking her up...I was wrong. She's a wonderful, smart, affectionate child. I wish that everyone could know her as we do. And as for me...well, things are better. Not perfect...but then, they never were. I can thrive with a little too much stress and a bit to little sleep.

I can finally say that as difficult as some days are, I wouldn't trade my life for anything. I can finally say that with my heart...not just my mouth.