After Tiff was born and I was whisked away to Brigham and Women’s, she stayed there in the hospital where she was born. My cousin, who was pregnant at the same time, had her daughter 2 days later. This was very good because my grandmother, aunt and uncle would go and check both babies out of the nursery and just dote on them. The nurses there at the hospital knew what was going on with me and gave Tiffany extra attention and allowed for my family to come and spend as much time with her and her cousin as possible.

Because her dad and I weren’t married, I was her only guardian. Mom couldn’t get her out of the hospital because I wasn’t there to sign her birth certificate. Mom brought me all the paperwork, Brigham had a notary on staff that came and notarized my signature and I also filled out paperwork that basically gave custody to my mom. At that point we still weren’t sure that I was going to make it.

14 days old and she didn’t go straight home, her first stop was to see me. My mom brought Tiffany right in to see me. I missed her so much. She cried the entire time. She didn’t like the tubes hooked up to me, she didn’t want me to hold her at all.  Mom saw that it was killing me, so she took her home. She only brought her in for one other visit and she did the same thing.

It upset me that I couldn’t be there to hold my baby, that I didn’t get a chance to ever breast feed her, that she didn’t want me. That’s what was going through my head. Talk about postpartum blues, I would cry for days on end. Not that I didn’t have plenty to cry about, but that wasn’t it. It was my baby that I cried over.

Tiffany wasn’t a heck of a lot better at home. She was fine when my mom would hold her and my grandmother. But she didn’t really want anyone else. She cried all the time. She wanted her mom, but she didn’t want her mom in the hospital. When I finally got to go home, she calmed down a bit. Mom still kept her in her bedroom for another month or so. I was having trouble standing and walking. If Tiff woke up in the night, I wouldn’t be able to get up on my own to get her.

So at 4 months old, I was finally able to care for her on my own. She was moved into her crib in my room. Within a week of being in my room with me, she was sleeping through the night. She just needed her mom to be close by. My mom was amazed that she slept so good.

I have to say that with all that I went through, that I was blessed with an extraordinarily good baby. She was wonderful, still is. I even forgive her for letting her first word be Nana instead of Mama.


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