When I was pregnant, I read something on someone’s blog about Day Three, and how it’s a well-known fact (at least in some circles, it was news to me but made a lot of sense) that Day Three postpartum is one of the worst, hardest days. It’s a perfect storm of dismay: you’ve lost the last of the endorphins from the birth experience; the ‘newness’ of having baby has worn off but you haven’t yet established a workable routine so everything is still topsy-turvey; your milk is coming in (ouch!); and, worst of all, you’re a hormonal mess. In fact, the midwife was telling me that a newly postpartum woman has less hormones than a post-menopausal woman, as the placenta has been almost entirely responsible for hormone production during the pregnancy.
All that to say, Day Three is a mythically scary day. Day Three or no, in my previous pregnancies I’ve always had a particularly rough time in first few weeks after baby is born – emotionally, physically, and especially in dealing with the sleep deprivation. That’s why the whole “Day Three” thing resonated with me; except, in my case, it was more like the first three (or six!) weeks, not days.
And here we are on Day Four, and you know what? Not so bad! Maybe it’s a new level of self-awareness, maybe it’s an easier labour (story to come, I promise!), maybe an easier baby, or maybe just third time’s the charm. Yes, I’d say yesterday was the most difficult day so far, but as the worst, it was better than a lot of the best days from the postpartum days following the arrivals of Tristan and Simon.
It’s been way easier physically. I think my milk coming in yesterday and the sore nipples (not yet as battered as they were with the other boys, but still bruised and cracked) have been far more uncomfortable than the residual aches and pains from the delivery. Because Simon was born with his hand thrust over his head, the tear was way worse then than this time — it’s amazing how much the simple ability to sit comfortably improves one’s demeanor!
We were doing pretty good with the sleep deprivation, too. Lucas had been sleeping a LOT, which helps, but last night that went out the window. I’d been getting maybe six hours of sleep a night altogether, which while three hours less than my ideal, is still manageable. Last night, he was up for most of the night and I couldn’t get him to settle for love nor money. Even sucking on my fingers, the way I’d soothed him to sleep a couple of times the night before, wouldn’t do it for him. I think my milk coming in might have upset his stomach, and am hoping that he adjusts to it through the course of the day today.
Emotionally, well, that’s just been easier, too. I dunno why, but I’ll take it! I think it’s a combination of the wisdom of experience and the knowledge that this is the last time I’ll be doing this that helps. Part of my brain is whining “I feel like crap and I’m sooooo tired and oh my god, I wish you would just go to sleep” but another part of me remembers how truly short this time period is and how quickly it passes. (And no, I don’t really expect that serenity to last even to the end of today, let alone for any great length of time. But it’s nice while it lasts.)
So, if that was Day Three, and that was the worst of it, I think we’re golden!
And with that, my little one is awakening from his four hour mid-morning nap (how cruel is it that his best and deepest sleep of the day exactly coincides with my most alert and unable to nap time of the day???) and will be demanding second breakfast (actually, I think we’re up to elevenses) any minute now. If we get another long nap like this tomorrow morning, you may yet get that birth story…. or not!
