I think it's time someone was clear on the first six weeks after labor and delivery-it sucks. Hard. The physical contractions may have abated, but the life contractions are just starting. The contractions are adjustments to living a new life with a new child.
The baby, a blessing, is sweet but still adjusting to life outside the womb. If it is *my* baby, he/she is also really pissed that they have been evicted from the womb and now must accommodate the human body they have been given. Pooping especially pisses them off. Farting is pretty bad too. They don't mind nursing to feed their hunger or to receive comfort and will spend most days attached if allowed to. They are often frustrated that they can't do more--grab what catches their eye, understand what you are saying, communicate their needs, fart better, etc. Mommy (me) wishes she could do more as well. This is especially trying if Mommy happens to be a go-getter, project-oriented and always popping up with new ideas that she wants to implement right away. The combination of thwarted wants for both Mommy and Baby will lead to occasions where both can be found crying on the couch.
In addition, Mommy goes through metamorphic physical and emotional changes. As Mommy, you don't catch nearly enough breaks or naps. Because trying to is like trying to water desert plants. It all gets sucked up to fill the deficit which is vast.
If one didn't know better, one *might* become excruciatingly depressed thinking that this will last forever. That the current conditions are the forecast for the rest of her life.
Sleep deprivation + physical and emotional exhaustion = faulty thinking.
But one thing I know for sure (in fact, the only thing I know for sure) after giving birth to five babies and being a veteran to the fifth power of postpartum is that I can not trust my own thoughts to be true to reality--in life, and most definitely in postpartum.
So during those difficult times, you have to take it one moment at a time, knowing that each moment brings you closer to an easier time. Sure, it sometimes doesn't come fast enough. Which means you have to visualize it. Sitting on the couch, nursing a baby who screams if you take your breast away (even though he's been nursing for 45 minutes on one side already), you have to close your eyes and visualize him at 3 months--smiling and grabbing at toys, at 6 months--maybe he has teeth now and he can certainly smile bigger, at 9 months--he's trying to crawl, at 12 months--could he already be trying to walk? And in the background, you see yourself happy, smiling, feeling more freedom than you do now, enjoying motherhood more than you could expect and loving this child more than you thought your heart could hold.
One moment at a time, one vision at a time. Those are the lifelines to sanity, and possibly thriving, in postpartum. Coffee helps too.
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