when it's hard

My sister-in-law, Shannon, gave birth to a beautiful girl yesterday. In looking at her newborn pictures and then back at my smiley, 12-pound baby I realized how far we've come.


People told me it'd be hard at first. I didn't truly believe them. I'm a confident, multi-tasking woman. I could do this. Which, I did. But not because I was so confident or that my multi-tasking skills matched the situation.

Shannon, here's what I realized in my 20/20 hindsight based on my experience (plus the best advice I received from people smarter than me), which could be totally opposite from yours. So take it for what it's worth, as if you have time to read blogs right now anyway.

When I was home from the hospital, I suddenly desperately wanted to go back. There were nurses there who took care of my baby so I could sleep. I had food (albeit, gross food) delivered to my bed with one ring of the phone. The bed moved up and down for nursing. I didn't have to decide what was normal when Henry turned red, felt hot, unlatched quickly, etc. People visited with pretty flowers and balloons. And then I went home, and it was a much more challenging place. Especially when Shea went back to work and my mom went home. 

You will cry. A lot. For lots of reasons and for absolutely no reason. It's totally normal but really not fun. If it continues, don't be afraid to tell your doctor. I did.

There will be a time when a Target run does not seem like an insurmountable task.

You'll experience pain that only women who just gave birth can. Your lady parts hurt (yay, Tucks). Your uterus is contracting back to its normal size in an ever so painful way. Your nipples are raw and nursing can bring on toe-curling pain. Things got better but I didn't feel totally healed for a month. And then there are some things that have just become my new normal.

You'll forget the pain of labor. Really, really quickly.

Your husband is great. Your mother is better.

Visitors should bring food. And not the number one combo from McDonalds. Real food from a private kitchen. Then they should drop it off, hold your baby a little, tell you she is the cutest baby ever made and leave.

When people offer to bring you said food, go to the pharmacy for you, vacuum your floors or hold baby so you can sleep, say YES.

You love your baby but don't feel guilty if you aren't in love. She is perfect and wonderful but a foreigner you don't know yet. The all-consuming love comes with time (and toothless grins).

Everyone tells you to sleep when the baby sleeps, which you should if you can. I couldn't. I wanted to do things like do laundry or scan through Facebook because it made me feel normal. You should not follow my example. Sleep.

I had all these rules for my mothering. I didn't want to use pacifiers. I absolutely would not co-sleep. I would use cloth diapers from day one. I would not let emails go unanswered for weeks. I should have listened to my wise mom friends and realized that no matter how strong my intentions were, they changed. Because I just had to survive. Ten weeks later, I am still just surviving - but in a better, more sane way.

When you've reached your limit and she's been crying for hours, it's OK to put her in her crib and walk away for a bit. Take a shower, cry, stick your head out the window to suck in fresh air. 

Lower your standards for a successful day. If you take a shower and eat, that's success for awhile.

Listen to all the advice people (like me) will give you. Then remember whatever you do is best because you're the mom and therefore the boss.

And when you're Googling "does this get better" at 3 a.m., know that it does. I promise.

the all clear

I dreaded my six-week checkup because - um, you want to do what? Do you realize a seven-pound bullet just tore its way out of there?

But alas, everything is much easier than my mind prepares for.

I adore my midwife. Like, I want to be friends with her and have our husbands be friends. And maybe our dogs, too. We talked for a long time about my rapid-fire birth, which cloth diapering detergent we use, the fact we'll both turn 30 next year, how we're both Type A and want to plan our lives to the month.

And when I left I kind of wanted to say.."so, I know we don't get to see each other again and you totally just checked out my stitches in an awkward location, but I dunno do you want to..uh...well....you know....meet for happy hour?"

Instead, I said "see ya in the spring for my pap." Because that, kids, is how you make friends.

The report:

• I've lost 30 pounds. I have six to go. The second most alarming part of this is, I gained 36 pounds in nine months?!
• My iron levels which previously had dropped from 13 to 7 are back to 13.7. This is partly attributed to out-patient iron infusions but mostly due to my mother force feeding me raisins, red meat, malt-o-meal and beans.
• I am allowed to run. Resume the obsessive research on finding my first race. 
• My stitches are completely healed.
• And the best news? I am the fastest birther she's seen. Seems only appropriate I get my picture with a gold star in the office lobby.

We talked about my next baby. How the likelihood of it shooting out like a cannonball three seconds after I feel the first contraction is quite high.

It feels good to have it done, though. I'm no longer a patient recovering from birth but just normal Sarah, figuring how to take care of a baby, be a moderately-sane wife and do some poopy diaper laundry on the side.

encouraging words

While out braving the public at nine months pregnant, everyone smiles at you. Asks how you're feeling. When you're due. Whether it's a boy or girl.

Now they ask how old he is. But there are also sympathetic glances - those are from the other mothers who recognize the weary expressions. Sometimes it's the comments from those who have been in the trenches whether they be friends, strangers or just in a blog post that keep me going.

Here are some favorites to hopefully encourage you, too.

When Reality and New Mommyhood Collide
"There are going to be times when you feel like you don’t rock. Moments when you wonder what the hell you were thinking when you threw away those birth control pills. Days when you’re pretty sure that you suck at being a mom.....You can do this. You will do this. It won’t always be fun, but it will be worth it. I promise."

Newborn Nostalgia
"I swear under my breath as I fold yet another load of onesies. The house is in chaos around me. Dishes haven’t been done in days, the carpet is buried under a layer of pet fur and dirty burp cloths are strewn everywhere I look. Just as I finish, a scream breaks through the silence, and I tiredly trudge up the stairs for the 15 bazillionth feeding of the day. I fervently wish my mommy would come and save me."

Letter to a Tired New Mom
"...day by day, dirty onesie by dirty onesie, wet wipe by wet wipe, you are building your legacy — something that will outlast your life. You are loving someone well, and in the process, loving God well. I struggle to think of a better use of your time.."

The Blues
"It’s a huge adjustment, this mommy thing. Not sleeping, caring for another human, having them attached to your chest every two hours or so all day and night. I wanted to write this post to let those who are going through it now, have been there or will go through it eventually know that it’s OK. And it’s normal! And it will pass. And it was hard for me too."

And from my friends, tweets and random acquaintances:
"Sometimes the hardest part is in those moments before you finally admit to yourself that you are overwhelmed and need some help. It's all so hard on your body, and then nursing as well. I know the hormones are awful, I cried at everything. I can laugh at it now but at the time it was so difficult."

"It's like everything around you is going so great and you have so much to be thankful for but you can't help but tear up and be sad at times. My daughter is 5 weeks and I will tell you IT GET'S BETTER!"

"I'm sure the last few weeks have been so hard on you - can you even imagine what its like for people who don't have as strong of a marriage and love for each other?!?  Obviously I'm not a mom (or dad - ha!), so have no encouraging words like "it will get better". All I can say from one newlywed happily in love wife, to another happily in love couple, cherish each day and the love you have for one another. "

"I hope you know you are not alone. We've all been there. And it sucks. But it will get better. It will."

someday

While checking out at Trader Joe's last week, the cashier oohed and ahhed over our adorable little two-week-old. Then she looked into my eyes and asked "how are you doing?"

My eyes filled with tears. This stranger - she gets it.

There have been many moments at 3 a.m. when we're all in tears that I wonder if we'll make it. For the first 10 days of Henry's life, I cried. Not just I'm tired and frustrated tears, but sobbing coming from deep within. A sadness I hadn't felt in years.

I cried when he cried. I cried whenever someone left our house. Whenever someone said something nice.  Each time the tears flowed, I felt guilty. Here this miraculous, life changing event occurred, I have a wonderful husband, supportive parents and perfect son and I'm sad.

My mother friends forgot to mention that part. The way after giving birth, your hormones crash. I felt this cloud of depression swirling around me and slowly taking over as I gave all my energy to keeping this tiny person alive. Thankfully my mom was there to feed me and remind me to eat iron-rich foods, drive me to my appointments, nap when I could and take my pain medication.

My friends emailed promising it gets better. We're not there yet, but each day improves. Shea and I went to church. Then Target. A few days later, I went to Walgreens all by myself. Now Henry and I can even do errands just to the two of us without emotional breakdowns.Though leaving him for three hours while I went to class was a whole different story.

It's still hard. My sleep-deprived brain finds learning how to sanitize bottles, pump breast milk, give him a bath and pack for a weekend trip as overwhelming as my college macroeconomics class. I still cry when he's been screaming for eight hours, and I realize I am up to my ears in laundry, haven't eaten in hours and that stench is not wet diapers but my armpits.

I know it will get better. He'll sleep through the night someday. He'll look up at me and smile instead of a frantic scowl of some unknown complaint. We'll be able to do more than 20 minutes of errands without racing home, panicked that it's time to eat. We will go on occasional dates and even eat real food again. I'll be strong enough to go on a run, and I will fit into my jeans. Someday.

For today though, I did a load of laundry and answered two e-mails. That's enough.