Motherhood: Not for the Faint of Heart!

I don’t know about you, but I had visions of what being a mom would look like. What it would be like. You see on movies and TV that during the newborn stage, mom is exhausted, looks like she hasn’t slept in months, who knows when the last time she showered was? Life was very different for me with a newborn. For the most part, Reagan was a great sleeper!

I had no idea what other mom’s were talking about!

We went to her one week check up when she was nine days old, and our whole world changed. At the time, it felt like our world was ending. When the doctor weighed Reagan, she had gone from being 7lbs15oz at birth to being 6lbs2oz just a few days later. I had never been a mom before, so I had no idea what it was supposed to feel like when your breast milk came in. Well, guess what?? Mine never did.

My child was basically starving, and I had NO IDEA!!

I felt like a failure. I was already failing my daughter and she wasn’t even two weeks old yet. Was I really cut out to be a mom? How is it that milk just doesn’t come in? Breastfeeding is supposed to be the most natural thing in the world, breast is best, right? Not for us. Her doctor told us to get some formula, we needed to put some weight on her.

Continuing with her check-up, her pediatrician did all the normal tests. She checked Reagan’s ears, nose, eyes, etc. She tells us, that she wants to make an appointment for Reagan to see an eye specialist.

It could be nothing…

… but when you shine a light in someone’s eye, there should be a red reflex. (when you see the red eye in pictures). She didn’t see the red reflex in Reagan and just wanted to get it looked at for peace of mind. We left the doctor’s office feeling a little defeated, but determined to help Reagan gain weight.

We got ourselves lunch and went home to eat and regroup. We hadn’t even finished eating when the pediatrician called us. Turns out, the ophthalmologist was in town and could see Reagan right away. We packed up, and went back. The nurse took us into an exam room right away where she put drops in Reagan’s eyes to dilate her pupils. She then said she would be back again in twenty minutes to do it again, turned and left.

 Mitch, Reagan, and myself were left in a dark exam room for the next twenty minutes. I don’t remember much of what we talked about, if anything at all. Twenty minutes later, the nurse came in and repeated the eye drops again. She told us to wait another twenty minutes and the doctor would be in to examine Reagan.

So we wait again… and wait some more…

The doctor finally comes into the room, grabs his flashlight device looks into each of Reagan’s eye for about a second each, rolls his chair back a little and says, “ Okay, so she has Bilateral Congenital Cataracts and needs to have them removed as soon as possible. I understand that there is a weight issue, so let’s give it a week or so and see if she puts on some weight and then schedule her surgery. Do you have any questions?”

My whole world fell apart.

This doctor came in, took one look at my beautiful, perfect little baby, spoke three sentences to us, and shattered me. Twice now, I have failed my daughter. In the span of maybe three hours, I realized that my child wasn’t eating, and now she was going to need surgery on her eyes. I wasn’t cut out for this. These were adult problems. I, who once thought I was an adult and had it all figured out, was realizing that at the age of 24 I had no idea what to do?

Reagan was only nine days old. Cataracts were for old people, not babies. What would happen if she didn’t have surgery? Would I prefer her to be blind than to have to go under the knife? You could live with being blind, what if something happened during surgery and she didn’t make it? How could I live with myself? This would have been the decision I made for her, as her mom.

Does she really need surgery right now?

Can it wait a little while longer? These questions all came to me later. I think when we were asked if we had any questions, we were too dumbstruck to say anything. Was this real life?

The ophthalmologist wanted Reagan and I to get testing done to see if the cataracts were genetic or just a fluke thing. Over the course of the last nine years of motherhood, I have had an unbelievable amount of mommy guilt. This is the day that it started.

My body was failing Reagan by not feeding her in the most natural way.

Now, only I was being asked to have blood work done. Not my husband, Reagan’s dad, and the other half that created her. Just me. Was it something in me that gave her the cataracts? (Blood work showed that there was nothing from me that gave her the cataracts, just must have been a fluke, but Mitch was never asked to be tested).

Imagine wanting to become a mom so bad. Wanting to have that little snuggly baby to hold and dress up. Then imagine having your whole world, and all the plans you thought you made, turn upside down when your baby was just nine days old. My baby was still right next to me, I was still able to snuggle her, and dress her up…

…but I was mourning the life that I thought motherhood was supposed to be.