Some honest reflections on first time motherhood.
You don't have time to do anything. At least in the beginning. If you do, I consider you superwoman. I'm starting this post on Wednesday and typing with one hand while holding the sleeping infant in the other. I consider this a great feat in the world of multitasking. However, the amount of time it took to type this paragraph probably disqualifies my post from being a "quick take".
If my beautiful girl ever becomes a terrifying teen, who says I don't love her after not letting her wear a mini skirt in public, I'll retort, "Oh darling, of course I love you. I breastfed you." You definitely don't breastfeed people you don't love...Oh, and I'd love to throw "The Baby Book", which is larger than the Bible, at the author who stated that breastfeeding is relaxing. Ok, I've heard it gets easier.
Enough cynicism (which really wasn't my intention). I really love being a mom. Even the sleep deprivation is worth every tiny, sleepy smile (I keep telling myself it's not gas- she's really just content), every little finger grab, and each stretch, coo, and gurgle. Even the crying really isn't that bad- because she stops when I pick her up, feed her, or snuggle on the couch, and I feel like she looks at me with such adoration.
Naptimes are worth a million dollars. However, you have to choose to use them wisely. Best move is probably to go down for a nap yourself. Although, if all you're doing is lying there and thinking about the million other things you need to do, I've found it's better to just get them done. Or feed yourself. Food is good too.
I thought I'd have a lot of prayer time, but sometimes I find it hard to finish even a single Hail Mary before she poops, wants to be fed, or I just fall asleep. My sister told me it's ok, that just saying "help" is enough. God will still hear me and know what I need. I've since cried "help" frequently and urgently. It really is effective.
My final confession: I've had a ton of help through all this. Not only has my husband been amazing, but my mom stayed here for the first two weeks and now my sister is still with me. I'm a big wimp that I'm still finding adjusting kind of, well, difficult. I know it's all stemming from the lack of sleep, but gosh, I was able to deliver her without a bit of medication and I have cried more since being home than I did in the hospital. Actually I didn't even cry in the hospital... I just screamed. No screaming at home yet. I know it will all get easier, but I'm feeling a little daunted by being left alone. How do I feed myself? Will I ever take a shower again? These are the silly questions I ask myself when I've had two hours of sleep and feeling panicked. However, after receiving so many delicious meals from friends who almost each have at least two kids, my sister smiles and says, "See Rachel, there's hope!"
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