Guilt. A sin my mother often spoke about but one I never fully understood until I was walking through my postpartum journey.
In the moment that the test comes back positive, the mother is born. There is no running, there is no giving up...and also, there is no sleeping. When we found out we were pregnant, there was not a doubt in my mind that we would ride this wave together. As reality set in and I felt a strong pull to return home and my wonderful partner felt the opposite, I began to feel the evil fingertips of guilt. It takes two people to have a child and even if those two people are loving partners excited for what is to come, the feelings of guilt can still do damage.
In the months before our daughter's birth, I carried the guilt of forcing my partner to make the transition to living back in the U.S. To say this was challenging would be the understatement of the century. Between reverse culture shock and balancing the needs and desires of family, we struggled significantly. Not to mention general emotional pregnancy shenanigans. It was so easy to feel guilty for having stripped a man of his dreams and ask him to move.
Let me be clear, my partner is a loving, caring man and I have no doubt that we are partners for life...but I still carried my guilt for a long time. At first it was for forcing the move but soon after our girl was born, my guilt shifted into a feeling of entrapment. It was in those late evenings and early mornings that I felt it most. No sleep for either of us but my partner also had to go to work every day. I felt guilt about the baby crying, guilt about not working, and guilt about not going to the grocery store, and on and on. I felt guilty for bring my daughter into this life of unsettled emotion and cultural imbalance after our return. I offered to set him free on more than one tearful occasion.
I allowed the guilt to render myself useless and my partner would look at me with empty eyes, missing the strong woman with whom he had fallen in love. It took me months of hearing "it took both of you" and reminding me it wasn't the pregnancy or the baby that was the problem. It was the guilt. Finally, I hit my limit of apologizing for every act and walking on eggshells. I was simply exhausted.
The definition of insanity is to keep trying the same thing and expecting different results. The guilt had to go. I had to consciously talk myself out of each guilty thought in order to change the pattern that had developed over the past year. It was hard work and it continues.
As I made my changes, I found that I was not the only mom who battled the sneaky and damaging feelings of postpartum guilt. What was your experience? Did you share it with your partner?
