It's been a little over a week since Uma has been fully weaned. It was not easy for her, but I have to attest that it's been much harder for me. I just did a bit of research, and it seems what I'm feeling is "normal" but I also think I'm feeling categorically depressed. I guess the shift in hormones are pretty drastic for us weaning mamas, and many feel the same symptoms. It's comforting to know this, but I still feel like shit. I was lucky enough to escape post-partum depression, but post- weaning sure does suck (ha).
The first few days, I felt super sad ending the long era of our nursing relationship. I missed seeing her little face nursing, my little baby happily suckling. Then I started to feel extremely light-headed and got some headaches, which was weird- but then depression hit me like a ton of bricks. I was in my dance class (my first without Uma in a long time) and just started bawling over the loss of my mother. Missing the love that only a mother can give. I am no stranger to these feelings of abandonment and aloneness, yet they visit me abruptly with no warning like an uninvited guest. Making them leave is no small task.
I felt like a huge wound opened in my heart, and I still haven't quite figured out how to mend it. Now I feel like I'm able to cry at the drop of a hat. My heart just feels heavy, in a very visceral way. I feel raw, open, misunderstood, and overall poopy. It reminiscent of the mood swings and darkness I felt as a teenager, just wanting to curl up into a ball and sleep for days. Unfortunately, this is impossible. I'm still working on how to just get a good seven hours of sleep.
I know this, like everything else, is just a phase but it frightens me to feel so blue. I look at Uma and I see that beauty and love are alive in the universe, but when she's pitching a fit, I just want to join in. The winter doesn't help either, my mind keeps racing wondering where I can go to feel better. I know that wherever I go, I'll take my hormones with me but it sure sounds nice to escape.
Monday, December 10, 2007
desperately seeking oxytocin
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2 comments:
Hey Claire,
Here is what I have learned about grief in the past year and a half. I was "blessed" in these teachings, mostly during my time in Western Mass last September with Sheila.
When I arrived in Mass, I was deep in grief in the loss of my relationship with K, along with a lot of other things. And the truly miraculous Sheila stood by my side, listened patiently, loved quietly, spoke wisely. By the time I was due to leave, I felt almost, vaguely, put together.
Then, abruptly, by surprise, Sheila's dad died. And so my stay was extended. And I had the opportunity to help Sheila in her grieving process, and, in some ways to experience my own wounds opening all over again by standing in the depth of that grief with her.
By the time I left, I think we both felt we had experienced truly deep lessons about grief, and these are:
* grief is not something you can just "make leave." And really, you don't want to make it leave. You need to live through it and love through it... and that's the most important thought that leads me to...
* grief is certainly about letting love go, but it is also, most profoundly, about letting love in. When you can stand in the place of loss, but allow your friends and family to love you, to truly let that love in, AND find a way to love yourself, you begin to feel the grief most deeply, and then, begin to move through it.
You are so right. There is no warning to grief, it arrives when it wants. In that year of grieving, I found myself crying at Fred Meyer, driving down the road, watching a commercial, or at the Thanksgiving table at your house (did you see me? I hope not).
The best advice I can give is to allow it to be, be aware, look ahead, but don't try to push it out. It will only come back again. Likewise, don't push friends away, or push their love away. That, to me, is the moment when you have let grief win.
Feeling poopy is a distinctly "un American" feeling. As well as an "un-spiritual" thing. We are trained to "look at the bright side," to see the positive in things, to "move through." All these things are wonderful, and true, but (to me) only in balance with allowing yourself to feel the shit. AND, allowing yourself to get whatever help you need to move through, at a slow pace that releases and mends, instead of just pushing under.
I know that a lot of this are things that you already know, and you are likely way wiser about these things than I am. But I felt compelled to share, because now, looking back on the year of grief that I experienced, I feel deep pride in the way I sat in my own shit, and feel that I am moving forward in the way that I am because I allowed myself to be there. I know my life is much different than yours (ie- I am sans a child), but perhaps there are a few words here that will help.
Much love much love much love, Lisa
Love your blog. It's hard being a mama!
Have you ever checked out dooce.com? If not, you should. She holds nothing back. She writes about her own struggle with being depressed in her latest entry. Keep writing and hang in there.
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