Never Easy

May 18, 2012 By 10 Comments

I can only describe that moment as chaotic. There I was, standing in the middle of my messy kitchen, the dishwasher open and half-filled to my left, a family room ahead of me with empty toy boxes and toys strewn everywhere. My husband was resting on the couch, my baby boy was stirring in his boucy-seat at every noise, and directly in front of me was a toddler holding a giant ball yelling “Throw da ball, Mama!”

I looked at the messy kitchen counter to my left, with dirty dishes piled high, and at the half-full dishwasher. Then, I looked at my little boy, entirely too loud and doing exactly what I didn’t want him to do at that moment – bugging me.

That was when I hit my breaking point. I started to catch the ball while tears streamed down my face.

It had been a long day which had followed a long, restless night. I had spent my day either nurturing my newborn or raising my voice to the toddler, sometimes at the same time. To Cameron, everything had become a game, including doing exactly the opposite of what Mommy and Daddy asked him to do. The noise level was high. My body was in discomfort. My husband and I were exhausted. And our house was a disaster. I had nothing left to give.

And all Cameron wanted was to play ball with his Mama.

All I wanted was to find some order in the chaos.

I was completely flooded with frustration, fear, and guilt. I was sure that I was not cut out to mother two children. One? I was great at. Two? My husband and I had already failed. How would I do this on my own in a few weeks? I was in over my head.

I had been expecting this. In fact, I was surprised it waited until I had been home a week before striking.

The Baby Blues.

After bringing my first-born home from the hospital, I pretty much languished in the baby blues for a full week. I vividly remember sneaking away to bathe my broken body and just breaking down in tears time and time again during that first week. My boy was beautiful and healthy, my husband was home to help me, but I was having a really hard time coping with all the physical and emotional and mental changes that came with giving birth and being a Mom. Giving birth brings on such rapid changes to both a woman’s body and her life that going through a period of emotional upheaval is entirely natural.

But it still sucks.

When babies are born to other people, we see the peaceful smiles in the beautiful pictures. We visit and we gently hold sleeping babies for a few moments while Mom sits with her feet up and Dad brings the coffee. The periphery might be messy, the new parents might look tired, but all of that seems to fade away, hidden by the happy glow of this perfect newborn.

Except, the newborn glow doesn’t actually hide anything. It doesn’t hide the three hours it takes a baby to fall asleep at night. It doesn’t hide the dishes that start piling up in the sink. It doesn’t hide the throbbing nipples. It doesn’t hide the clothes that don’t fit right. It doesn’t hide the misbehaving older child.

Babies might be perfection, but adjusting to this new life never is.

Sometimes I worry that I am doing a disservice by seeking the miracles amidst the muck of motherhood. Maybe I am making motherhood look too easy. I have seen and heard many new moms mention only a few weeks after having a baby that they thought things would be easier already. I always wonder which Mom gave them that impression.

Until we have a child, we live within the patterns of a certain normalcy. Pregnancy changes this a little, but there is always an end in sight; a chance to get back to normal. After nine months, sleep becomes comfortable again, cheese and wine aren’t off limits, life can conceivably go back to normal.

But it never does. Normal changes. And each time a new child is brought into a household, a new normal needs to be established. Everything doesn’t fall back into place like it was before. We adapt. We change. We make room.

And it isn’t easy.

But no one said motherhood would be.

I thought it would be Cameron who would need to do the most adjustinging to the new baby. But it hasn’t been him. It has been me. Cameron is just as playful and as loving as he was before. He shows no animosity whatsoever towards Gavin. I am the one who is having the hardest time adjusting.

But I am adjusting. We are adjusting. And in doing so, we are creating a new normal. And it will be beautiful. But never easy.

10 Comments

Extremely Mom Enough

May 13, 2012 By 18 Comments

I don’t make it a habit to publicly proclaim my opinion on something without educating myself as much as possible on the matter. For example, despite already feeling like I have surmised an opinion on the new it-book 50 Shades of Grey, you won’t find me blogging to the world about it (yet) because I have not read the book. Today however, because it is Mother’s Day, I am going to make a slight exception.

You see, I haven’t read the current issue of Time magazine yet. All I have seen is the highly contentious cover image and the list of articles. But unlike many other Moms, I do plan to both purchase a copy and read it, likely in full. As I have not yet done this, all I can comment on are my first impressions, but seeing as it is these first impressions that have so many mothers up in arms about the edition, I might as well chime in as well.

From what I can tell, Time magazine is up to its metaphorical nipples in anger from Moms and shock from the general public. I first saw the cover on my Twitter stream when jokes started flying from people who are certainly funny but who aren’t parents. Shortly thereafter I started seeing the hurt and anger from mothers who felt like their parenting was being called into question. For the general public, the image of the suckling three-year-old provides the shock value. For mothers the outrage stems from the headline “Are You Mom Enough?”

I have read blog post after article about why this headline is out of line: It ignites the Mommy Wars right before Mother’s Day; It makes Moms feel like they are less than enough; It doesn’t adequately describe the realities of Attachment Parenting; It is just sensationalism used to sell magazines so we should all just stop talking about it.

Maybe I’m not reading the right things, but I have yet to read about someone who shares my opinion on the matter.

When I first saw the magazine cover, I wasn’t outraged. I wasn’t hurt. I certainly wasn’t shocked. I was interested. And as I have been watching the sparked outrage ignite, I’ve realized this magazine cover doesn’t phase me in the least.

Shortly before Gavin was born, my husband asked me if I missed being at work. I told him that I recognized that I am a very capable person who does my job well, but it is a job that could be performed well by many people. I can leave work at the end of the day feeling like I have done a good job, but I have never left feeling as though I made a great impact on the world. On the other hand, I am passionate about my role as a mother. Each day, the little things I do for my family impacts the world in such a huge way because I am raising children. Each day I love, I teach, I nurture, and I form. I am literally creating people. And no matter how the day ends, I know I am a good mother. I was always meant to be a mother, and gosh darn it – I do an awesome job. This role – this mothering thing – is the one thing in my life that I am confident I am good at.

Although I devoured parenting books during my first pregnancy, I stopped reading them as soon as my first child was born. I quickly realized that I already knew what to do. My instincts as a mother were so much stronger than anything a book could tell me. I don’t subscribe completely to any particular parenting theology because I realized that with all the love in my heart and with the support of my husband, I have all I need to be the best parent my children could ever require.

So when I look at this Time Magazine cover, I am more interested in what it says about our society than what it is saying about me personally as a mother. I am interested in what society deems as “normal” parenting. I am interested in how Attachment Parenting is perceived by the general public. I am kind of giddy that breastfeeding is being shown, even though it is meant to shock. I am interested in what the magazine has to say and in what the response is.

But I am definitely not upset. I am already confident that I am Mom enough. I know that I practice Extreme Parenting because I am extremely passionate about my kids. And I hope that every Mom will feel this confidence as she parents to the best of her abilities and to the extremes of her love.

No matter how you do it, Mothering is extreme. The love we have for our children is enough.

Happy Mother’s Day!

 

Although I don’t share in the outrage, I have found some blog posts on this subject particularly appropriate. If you are interested in reading more, please check out these links:

The Attachment Parenting Paradox from Conscience Parenting

Time Magazine and “Extreme Parenting” by Sarah at Nurshable

It’s TIME to Stop Fighting the Mommy Wars by Katherine Stone

So, What do you think? Are you shocked at the image of the three-year-old breastfeeding? Do you think I should be outraged at the headline? Do you feel Mom Enough?

 

18 Comments

Mama Home

May 3, 2012 By 21 Comments

“Dada? Mama sick. Mama sick. Mama no home.”

We had just seen Cameron for the first time after leaving home for the hospital nineteen hours earlier to deliver his baby brother. For the first time in a long time, someone other than Mommy or Daddy had put him to bed the night before and for the first time ever, someone other than Mommy or Daddy had got him out of bed in the morning. He had just seen his Mommy be pushed into the room in a wheelchair holding a baby on her lap and very slowly easing her way into a bed.

So when Daddy and Cameron went for a walk down the hall, Cameron decided he needed to have a little heart-to-heart talk with his father.

“Dada?” Mama sick. Mama sick. Mama no home.”

Dan’s heart broke.

Our little boy, who had been so good for his Nana and his Papa and his Aunt and his Uncle knew something was wrong. Our little boy noticed that Mommy and Daddy weren’t home. Our little boy noticed the state that Mommy was in. Our little boy was concerned. He was concerned that Mommy would not be coming home again.

How do you explain soon to a toddler? How do you tell him that Mommy and Daddy will be home the day after the day after tomorrow? How do you tell him that even though Mommy and Daddy will be coming home, our entire lives have shifted to make room for a new family member? Even when Mommy and Daddy come home, things will be different.

How do you explain that Mama isn’t really sick? She’s just tired and a little bit broken and a little bit spent. How do you explain that Little Boy kisses aren’t all that is needed to heal her?

Soon wasn’t soon enough for me either.

Our hospital stay was actually quite a retreat, at least for me. Despite being interrupted at all hours of the night and day, despite the copious amounts of diapers and the frequent nursings, despite having pushed all ten pounds of baby through my body, it was a lot more restful than taking care of a toddler and a house while being overdue. It was restful – but never right. Unlike when I was in the hospital recovering from Cameron’s birth, I didn’t feel like we were easing into our new family. While Dan lay on the cot in our private room and while I snuggled our newborn baby boy in my hospital bed, I could never feel like this was complete.

We weren’t a family yet. There were still only three of us.

Going home wasn’t overwhelming like it was the first time. Going home was what we needed to do. As we pulled into our driveway and got out of our car, I watched my first little baby run towards me. I crouched down to his level and braced myself to be slammed into by all 30 pounds of toddler. My body could barely tolerate it, but I? I needed it. I needed that running, slamming hug from my little boy to jolt everything back into rightness.

After a hug for Mommy and a hug for Daddy and requests to see the baby right away, we made our way into our little apartment. As I eased myself into the recliner, I heard Cameron excitedly say to his grandmother,

“Nana? Mama home! Mama all better! Mama home!”

Yes baby, Mommy’s home. With you. With Daddy. With Baby Gavin.

It is all better now.

Let our new life as a family of four begin. I could not be more excited.

21 Comments