It is very problematic to be a new mother. You question all, and I would be lying if I demanded I didn’t cry all the time. It wasn’t that I was unhappy, but rather that I was feeling overburdened, worn out, and feeling a variety of postpartum emotions.
Courtesy Gabrielle Lynn Dunn
I’ve permanently found it difficult to ask for help because I suffer from severe anxiety and OCD. I’m the type of people who says, I’ll just do it myself so it’s done right. However, that kind of thinking can boomerang. I was scared as a new mother. My nervousness made even simple tasks seem unbearable, and I had no idea what I was doing. Even though my husband, a bizarre and accomplished father, was at home, I was unable to even take a shower without becoming anxious. I would sob while taking a bath, questioning whether I was doing something properly. I was the most dangerous of myself.
Courtesy Gabrielle Lynn Dunn
One day, my husband was employed a 14-hour shift, I was covered in saliva-up, and I hadn’t taken a shower in two days. I couldn’t put my baby down without her desperate. I spilled my water while cleaning up after her flinging up on me for the fifth time that day. I was devastated by that small incident spilling a drink. I broke down in tears.
Courtesy Gabrielle Lynn Dunn
My phone then rang. Becca, one of my friends, wanted to FaceTime. I was crying so much that I nearly didn’t respond. However, I did, and she detected a problem when we linked. “Gabrielle, look at me,” she said mildly. That was all that was obligatory. I moaned and admitted to her that I was having worry.
Without unwillingness, she said “That’s it. I’ll be over. You will eat and take a bath while I take the baby.
She came, took my baby in her arms, and gave me a “Try” look. I can do this. Hesitant of what to do, I just stood there. We’re great!” she said with a beam. Get in the bath. I am aware of what I am doing. Abruptly, I was free at least provisionally.
Courtesy Gabrielle Lynn Dunn
I observed Becca treat my darling like her own while I was consumption dinner. And my baby was doing just well. I knew I just had to open the door for someone. It was one of those little but noteworthy moments that I will always recall, so I even took a picture.
Despite my repeated reminders that “you don’t have to,” love can occasionally look like this: presentation up.
Thank you, Becca for repeating me to take care of myself as well as for affectionate me and my child.
