One Day You'll Thank Me

by Cameran Eubanks Wimberly

  I did receive some negative comments about being selfish and how it wasn’t healthy for my child, but I would say the overwhelming majority of the more than 20,000 comments I got were from women who understood. They said, “I felt the same way, but I felt pressured by society to continue breastfeeding even though it was making me depressed” and “Thank you so much. Finally I’m not alone” and “OMG this post just made me feel NORMAL” and “I truly need this post and all the comments.” The last one was written by a woman who added that the guilt of stopping was tearing her to pieces and that “I hurt all day, every day.” WTF? We are not supposed to hurt all day, every day—especially when we need to take care of our children—and if that’s the case, it’s okay to stop. (Think men would do anything that hurt all day, every day?) Weeks, months and even a YEAR after I posted that I was quitting, I’d get comments from women saying, “I literally went and searched for this post today” to “help encourage me” or to “reassure myself that it is indeed okay to quit electively.” Can you imagine that they had to search for a year-old post just because they wanted to feel the support from another mom who couldn’t do it anymore? I’m not sure what this says, but it’s clear that the pressure and support to breastfeed is strong. And it might just be too much.

  I later read a CDC study that found that most women plan to breastfeed exclusively for at least the first three months, but only one-third of them achieve that, for a variety of reasons. I wish I’d known this back then! For me, the bottom line is this: the mental health of the mother is far more important than the extra nutrition breastfeeding gives the baby (if it’s even true that breast milk is more nutritious), and if it’s at the expense of your mental health, quit and give your baby formula. Your baby will be okay. Palmer was totally fine, loved formula and grew and gained weight as she should for her age. You will rejoice, despite the fact that your boobs will deflate and look like tea-bag city.

  Once Palmer was fully on a bottle, I felt like a weight had been lifted. She was no longer totally reliant on me. When I could finally leave my house for more than two hours, the first place I went was… you guessed it: Target. There wasn’t really anything I needed; I just wanted to feel like “myself” again. Me, a shopping cart and a Starbucks. It was heaven. Other times I would go for a drive and listen to music in my car… music that I would feel bad playing in front of a baby. Living on the edge, I know. I could also sleep through the night without my throbbing boobs waking me up. Mentally, I was in a much better space. Whatever postpartum depression I had was finally going away.

  If I could give new moms any advice, it would be this: do what works for YOU. Women, especially in this day and age, should not be ashamed if they can’t breastfeed or if they flat-out don’t want to. Your mental health, especially as a new mama, is absolutely PARAMOUNT. A happy mama makes a happy baby. If you are not in a good headspace, it’s hard to be the best mother you can be. One thing that made me feel better was this post by a group of moms who say they adore their kids but admit motherhood is hard AF: “PSA: If you ended up asking for the epidural, you weren’t able to breastfeed and you are keeping your bed to yourself because even a little sleep is the only thing maintaining your sanity, you are not a failure. You are still a badass mom.” Amen! In my opinion, if you feel that breastfeeding is making you depressed or stressed, it’s okay to stop. FED IS BEST. That’s all that matters. If your baby is fed, you’re doing a fabulous job; the method by which you do it (bottle or breast) isn’t all that important.

  Chapter Nine IF YOU DON’T SNOOZE, YOU LOSE

  I don’t want to sleep like a baby.

  I want to sleep like my husband.

  —UNKNOWN

  Sleep. Ahhh, sleep. How we take it for granted in our pre-motherhood days. Maybe I’m just speaking for myself here, but I know I did! I’ve always been a great sleeper, and pre-pregnancy, I would do it for about nine straight hours every night and wake up bright-eyed and bushy-tailed every morning. My first hint of sleep struggles came during my sixth month of pregnancy. That’s when I started waking up around 1 A.M. to pee every single night. I’m convinced this is intelligent design during pregnancy to prepare you for the sleepless nights ahead. Now we all know a Mary Sue whose firstborn slept through the night starting at two weeks old. Well, in my opinion, Mary Sue is full of shit. Maybe she just took Ambien.

  As a new mom, sleep is one of the key things that help you manage the unknown, sometimes crazy/sometimes monotonous baby stage. I think exhaustion contributed a lot to my mood and postpartum depression. After all, when you’re totally exhausted, your brain is not functioning. Navy SEALs use sleep deprivation as a form of training because it pushes you to your limits. But neither you nor I is a Navy SEAL, so we’ve got to get our rest. I’m happy to say that despite my new-mom fog, I was aware enough to remember a deal I’d made with myself when I was pregnant: I was not going to be overly crazy about getting up and going to my baby every time she made a peep. The only thing I’d read a lot about prior to having Palmer was sleep training, and I implemented everything I learned right away. Well, almost right away.

  I thought I needed to have Palmer in a bassinet directly next to my side of the bed because I was breastfeeding, so that’s where she was our first night at home. I had ordered the latest and greatest bassinet, one that vibrated and had a white noise machine built into it. Well, let’s just say it was a total waste of $400. I got zero sleep. Palmer was within two feet of me and I heard EVERY. SINGLE. MURMUR she made. My senses were already on high alert, but they went into overdrive with her being so close. She also cried a lot, so I had to get up and go to her several times. This would have been a bit easier if I were able to just bounce up from the bed. But my perineum was being held together with stitches, so just sitting down hurt big-time. I actually had to roll out of the bed slowly to get up. After waking up for the third time that night to nurse, I started crying. Jason wanted to be able to help me, bless his heart, but God didn’t give him boobs.

  I quickly realized it’s like this: if you’re in the kitchen of your favorite restaurant, you’re going to want to eat. I know I would. Palmer could smell me sleeping right beside her, so it was a nonstop feeding frenzy and she never seemed to settle down to sleep. The next morning I looked at Jason and said, “Tonight she’s going in her crib.” I decided to try the methods suggested in the various books I’d read. The book that helped me the most was Moms on Call Basic Baby Care, written by two pediatric nurses with over twenty years of experience and eight children between them. I figured those ladies must know what they’re talking about! And they did. This book became my baby bible. The main takeaway in all the sleep books I read was pretty much that your baby will sleep best in a crib. This sounded great, really great, but along with the allure of a full night’s sleep came the guilt. Should I really put my three-day-old baby in a dark room by herself? I thought. She was in my safe, warm tummy less than seventy-two hours ago! What if she stops breathing? Will I hear her cry? Will she be scared? Just the thought of this made me sweat profusely. But when evening came, I swaddled Palmer up and placed her in her crib. I turned on the white noise machine and closed the door behind me. I’ll be honest… I was very apprehensive, because it felt a bit unnatural for this tiny infant to be in a room down the hallway, but I knew I needed to do it so I could get some sleep. Yet, like most things, there was no need to worry. Palmer did great. It was a much more restful night than the one before—for both of us. Okay… I can do this, I thought. I can be strong.

  Well, I’m happy to report that my little bald-headed counterpart has slept in her own room ever since. Clearly, she did better when she moved away from her favorite restaurant. The confidence and satisfaction that gave me was almost worth the money I wasted on the bedside bassinet with all the bells and whistles. I kept a consistent schedule every evening (and still do). Bath, bottle, bed. When she would wake to feed, I would go in the room with the lights down low, trying to be as quiet as possible and not saying a word. I
only talked to her if she seemed agitated or needed soothing. Then I’d feed her and put her straight back into her crib. If I needed to do a diaper change, I did so quietly and quickly, which is why easy-access baby gowns are key. To this day, I keep a white noise machine on high in her room. This has worked for us, but of course, to each her own. A lot of women find that it works to have their babies in their beds or rooms, but the moment Palmer went down in that crib for the first time was the moment I started to feel human again.

  I’m not saying it’s easy. And I think the reason so many women have trouble getting their children to sleep is that they feel guilty about not rushing to them every time the baby makes a peep. Yes, this is very hard because we have this weird maternal instinct that wakes us up and takes over, pushing us to check on our baby’s every whimper. It’s definitely a mama thing, because my peacefully sleeping husband didn’t hear Palmer once—and still doesn’t. Practically defying biology is the only way that you are going to get rest. And if you are not able to do that you will end up haggard, tired, resentful and pent up. You have to be tough and know that your baby will be okay. Soon enough you will learn what this cry means and what that cry means and be able to determine if you really need to go to your child or not. It’s hard to explain, but as a mother you start to just instinctively know what different sounds mean. I was able to differentiate a real cry from a dream cry. Sometimes Palmer would let out a cry while she was still asleep, and I could tell that it wasn’t anything serious. Of course, the first couple of times she did this I still got up to check, but soon I didn’t have to. If she really needed me or was upset, it was a different pitch and pattern of cry. Some women say they feel like bad mothers for not responding to every little cry, when in reality they’re being GOOD mothers because—and I always go back to this point—if you are not taking care of yourself and setting boundaries, then you are not going to be the best mom that you can be.

  I knew I’d reached a new low when Palmer was about three months old and I was desperate to take a bath. When the tub filled up, the water was brown. Yup, brown and murky. Something was obviously wrong with the pipes, but I was just too tired to care and the hot bath felt oh so, so good. So I just prayed I wouldn’t die from the water, closed my eyes and enjoyed the quiet time.

  Once Palmer stopped waking to feed and slept through the night at around four months old, it changed my whole life. When Palmer slept through the night, I did, too. I started to think more clearly, have more energy and even look more like myself. Finally, I understood what other mothers meant when they would tell me, “Hang in there—it gets better.” It definitely did! I felt like a new woman. Honestly, if you can make it through the first three months with a newborn, you can make it through anything.

  At this point when Palmer was sleeping through the night, I tried very hard not to go check on her each time she did wake up and make a noise. This took a lot of willpower because of my motherly instincts, but I knew she needed to learn how to self-soothe (an important skill we all need later in life, too). This is not to say that I left her in the crib all night, every night, but if she did let out a little cry, I would just quickly go pat her on the back and say, “P, you are okay. Go back to sleep.” I tried not to pick her up or linger in the room. I truly think this helped Palmer to become a great sleeper.

  Here’s another thing: Palmer has not slept in our bed once. This was a firm rule we made from the beginning. As an anesthesiologist, one thing Jason is an expert on is SLEEP. He doesn’t even allow us to have a television in our room because his opinion—and that of many other sleep experts—is that the bedroom is for two things and two things only: “sleepin’ and screwin’.” Ha! Now, before anyone sends me any messages, I know this is a very controversial topic and there are many mothers/parents who co-sleep with their babies, and if it works for you, great. Some of my friends do this. In hindsight, several have told me they wish they had never started that because it’s a nearly impossible habit to break, while others are fine with it. Ladies, that’s what makes the world go ’round.

  Palmer is now three years old and still sleeps twelve hours a night. She was able to climb out of her crib at about eighteen months old, so at that point I just lowered the mattress all the way to the floor to keep her safe. We moved her to a twin bed when she was a few months shy of her third birthday. We really built it up that she was getting a big-girl bed—the kind that princesses sleep in—so the transition was surprisingly easy. (Y’all, it’s a miracle!) But let me say this: the decisions that I made regarding Palmer’s sleep worked for us. This is not to say that they will work for you. Remember, ultimately you have to do what you deem right for YOUR child. The most important thing is that our children are safe.

  Everybody has a different opinion on what to do, how to feed, how to sleep-train, et cetera. If I could give one piece of advice to a first-time mama-to-be it would be this: don’t worry. I wasted so much time worrying prior to having Palmer. SO MUCH. I recently heard a quote by Linda Wooten that’s so true: “Being a mother is learning about strengths you didn’t know you had, and fears you didn’t know existed.” Yup. And I understand why women say having a second child is such a different experience from having the first, because you are so much more relaxed and sure of yourself. (No, that still doesn’t mean I’m having more than one. But we’ll discuss that in Chapter 14: One & Done.) When you become a mother, I swear something biological just takes over. Maternal instinct. It’s a superpower. Truly. For example, I wasted so many hours researching damn baby monitors. I read many reviews because I thought that I needed one that had good range and reception so I could hear my baby anytime she made a peep. I got one of the top-rated monitors on the market. But the first week I had Palmer home, I quickly realized I really didn’t need it at night. Our bedroom was on one end of the hall and Palmer’s on the other, but it was like I all of a sudden had supersonic hearing. Before I had a baby, NOTHING would wake me. I could sleep through a category five hurricane. Not anymore. ANY noise Palmer made I heard, regardless of the monitor. I would sit straight up in bed and Jason would remain soundly asleep.

  Whether it’s being on the boob or snoozing or anything else, never listen to anyone who tells you something definite about how to parent. There are no definites. There are no one-size-fits-all answers. You have to do what works for YOU. I can tell you what worked for me, but at the end of the day, your baby is not like any other baby that has ever been born and you are not like any other mother.

  Chapter Ten THE SHORTEST & LONGEST YEAR OF MY LIFE

  Being a mom has made me so tired.

  And so happy.

  —TINA FEY, MOTHER OF TWO

  The first year of motherhood was and is a blur to me. It was the shortest AND the longest year of my entire life. When I was in the thick of it, I thought I would never get out. I remember thinking I would never sleep again, that my legs would always have leftover pregnancy cellulite and my energy would always be low.

  I never understood why people measured a baby’s age in months until I actually had one. It’s because SO much changes from month to month, even from week to week and day to day. Palmer started crawling when she was about seven months old. Of course, I was excited about the milestone and the reassurance that she was developing normally. However, I underappreciated the things I could get done before Palmer became mobile. Back then, I could park her in her bouncy chair or on her play mat and she’d stay put. I knew exactly where she was at all times, so if I had to pee or grab something from the kitchen, all was good. But once she could move, it was game over! And when Palmer decided to move, she did it with a fury. It was NONSTOP. That girl was on the go, and no one could get in her way. This made it impossible to do something as simple as make a phone call or pour a glass of juice. What to do? Something I said I would never do: I bought what I called the “baby cage,” which is one of those white, metal fence-type things that’s like a playpen. By the way, I learned that I was a bit judgmental pre-Palmer because there were
all these parenting things I swore I would not do, and there I was eating crow and doing them gladly… actually, desperately. Case in point is the baby cage. I took my stylish coffee table to a consignment store and swapped it for the baby cage in the middle of my living room—actually it took up half my living room because I felt bad putting her in a small one. I filled it with safe toys to keep P entertained—I’d also sworn I’d never let her toys take over the house—and she didn’t mind it one bit. Total eyesore? Yes. Stylish? Not at all. But it allowed me to use the bathroom or answer a work email instead of worrying about where Palmer was crawling. Of course, this setup didn’t last long. In a few months, her inquisitive little mind learned how to unlatch the door.

  Well, if I thought Palmer’s crawling was tough to deal with and left me little time to do anything, it didn’t compare to her walking. I bought every contraption I could think of to encourage her to walk early. I never put her in a baby walker because I had read that they actually can delay this milestone. Instead, I bought her a balance table and push toys that really seemed to help. Palmer took her first steps a week before her first birthday and was SO proud of herself. (We were lucky to get it all on video, which is huge. Some parents aren’t even home when their kids take their first steps.) This is such a huge milestone for a child, and I was filled with emotion when I witnessed it. As happy as I was to see her move upright, it also made me a bit sad because it signified that she was no longer a baby. By Palmer’s first birthday party, she was walking everywhere. Now that she was on the go-go-go, I was, too.