Seriously though, where do the hours go? Every day for the first two months was a routine of wake up, survive, and wonder how it became nighttime again already, usually being so grateful that it was. Keeping a newborn alive for the first two months I feel is the hardest hurdle. It is just a blur of blank stares, spit up, diapers, sleeping while sitting up topless, wading through trash and dirty laundry, engorged boobs, etc. Then your baby smiles at you for the first time and it's the victorious ending to taking that leap. The rest of the race is what you trained for. When you see that first smile it's like both you and your baby wake up from a restless sleep. Birds are chirping; the sun is shining.
Before that moment came, as I crawled and collapsed into bed at 10pm, knowing I had to get up in two hours to once again feed Leo, some days I thought to myself, "Wow...I got nothing done today...but I am too exhausted to fix that." Goals become way less dreamy and ambitious than they used to be, and more just basic life reminders. Remember to eat while Aria eats. Remember to take a shower before bed. Remember to bring the breast pump up to bed with you so that you pump in the morning, because you know you will not do it if you have to get up at 4 a.m. and walk downstairs. For goodness sake, tackle one project you have on your ever expanding list. I give my friends with 4+ children so much credit. By credit I mean worship the ground you walk on, because I feel completely at capacity with my two. Somehow as my first baby became a big walking and talking 28 lbs of wild personality I completely forgot that she was this tiny, this helpless, and she had different parts! Not to mention, I still have her. Aria is still tiny, slightly less helpless, and now can eloquently communicate when she has utilized the time I spent nursing our new addition to draw with marker all over my blankets and pee on my floor.
Now that Leo is sleeping through the night, life is beginning to once again normalize, and I have begun the always progressive journey of putting myself back together. But man, the newborn stage, my hindsight image of myself is just this moving, crying, blob with udders. I rediscovered how humbling that first phase is, and adding a two year old to the mix definitely leveled up this experience. It is crazy how time heals and fills in the cracks of that whack job postpartum slum. I am about to lay down some real honest perspective that I have recently been encouraged to share.
Let me precursor by saying that I have completely and absolutely fallen in love with my son. I cannot wait to go get him when he wakes up from a nap. His dimples and deep voice just melt me to my very core. I yearn for our cuddle times in the morning and feel all out of sorts if I have not had them. I now know this new love for a little boy that is different than my relationship with Aria yet equally perfect and magical. But there are some things in the immediate days of my emotional journey following delivery that I was not prepared for, and I think many moms are afraid to voice out loud for fear of it being misunderstood.
During my pregnancy, as I have written about in previous posts, I was very fearful of how Aria was going to handle this new little life coming into our family unit. But in getting so caught up in those fears I did not take time to prepare myself for handling this new little life. I assumed all of my energy would need to go into nurturing her affection for him and it did not occur to me that I might not be ready to share my own.
Postpartum Depression manifests itself differently for all women, and for those blessed few may not happen at all. This is obviously my own personal journey and I share it only so that it may resonate with those who need it. For me, the first 2 weeks after coming home this time around were pure agony. Change was painful. Recovery was painful. Nursing was painful. My wrecked body was just shapes. I felt hideous. Separation from my firstborn for most of the day when I was used to spending every waking hour with her was jarring, full of guilt and loss. The flooding back of different hormones was terrifying and oftentimes left me with confusing feelings of loneliness, sadness, and sometimes even anger. I was not ready for any of it. Distracted by all of these raw emotions, I felt like I was missing out on bonding with my new baby, and that produced even more guilt. On one of the worst days I got in the shower when Stephen came home from work and just stood there and sobbed for twenty minutes. The worst part of all of it, was that I felt like telling anyone how I was feeling would make people think I did not love my new baby, or that I was a terrible mother. Now I have clarity.
I love being a mom. Every wonderful memory from the past two years with Aria completely made me push out the memories of my similarly difficult transition into motherhood when she was born. If the thought crossed my mind, experienced mothers were quick to tell me that my fears would immediately diminish the moment Leo entered our lives. That my heart would just grow and I would instantly and naturally adapt to being a mom of two, just as I did when I became a mom of one. Though this is true; and it did happen eventually, more than I ever imagined it would, that new mom transition is not as quick and easy as you remember it being when you're finally through it. It is another instance of God's absolute genius that we as mothers bare such incredible heartache for our children and remember only the sweetest moments when they are over.
I want to be the one to tell any new mom or new-mom-agains that it really does get sweeter and sweeter with time. We have been created to withstand heartache and pain and we have the resiliency to nurture life through it all. You can and will do this, and your children are going to be awesome because of your commitment and love. It is ok to cry because it is freakin' hard, but when you feel beat you really aren't. And what is coming is the best version of yourself yet. Here's to you, mommas.
Postpartum Depression manifests itself differently for all women, and for those blessed few may not happen at all. This is obviously my own personal journey and I share it only so that it may resonate with those who need it. For me, the first 2 weeks after coming home this time around were pure agony. Change was painful. Recovery was painful. Nursing was painful. My wrecked body was just shapes. I felt hideous. Separation from my firstborn for most of the day when I was used to spending every waking hour with her was jarring, full of guilt and loss. The flooding back of different hormones was terrifying and oftentimes left me with confusing feelings of loneliness, sadness, and sometimes even anger. I was not ready for any of it. Distracted by all of these raw emotions, I felt like I was missing out on bonding with my new baby, and that produced even more guilt. On one of the worst days I got in the shower when Stephen came home from work and just stood there and sobbed for twenty minutes. The worst part of all of it, was that I felt like telling anyone how I was feeling would make people think I did not love my new baby, or that I was a terrible mother. Now I have clarity.
I love being a mom. Every wonderful memory from the past two years with Aria completely made me push out the memories of my similarly difficult transition into motherhood when she was born. If the thought crossed my mind, experienced mothers were quick to tell me that my fears would immediately diminish the moment Leo entered our lives. That my heart would just grow and I would instantly and naturally adapt to being a mom of two, just as I did when I became a mom of one. Though this is true; and it did happen eventually, more than I ever imagined it would, that new mom transition is not as quick and easy as you remember it being when you're finally through it. It is another instance of God's absolute genius that we as mothers bare such incredible heartache for our children and remember only the sweetest moments when they are over.
I want to be the one to tell any new mom or new-mom-agains that it really does get sweeter and sweeter with time. We have been created to withstand heartache and pain and we have the resiliency to nurture life through it all. You can and will do this, and your children are going to be awesome because of your commitment and love. It is ok to cry because it is freakin' hard, but when you feel beat you really aren't. And what is coming is the best version of yourself yet. Here's to you, mommas.
