Motherhood (7 weeks)

Before I became a mom, I thought I knew what was in store …but I didn’t know. How much emphasis can I put on that statement? I. Did. Not. Know.

I carried my daughter 41 weeks – taking care of myself during that time meant I was taking care of her. I had the best sleep of my life while I was pregnant. I’d sleep 9 hours a night (with the mandatory 3 bathroom trips) and take naps most afternoons. I ate surprisingly healthy (once I was able to eat after the first trimester was over). On Fridays, I started a ritual of walking around Target just browsing the aisles and making “awww” sounds at the adorable baby clothes while sipping a Grande Very Berry Hibiscus – it was exercise & shopping all in one. Two birds – one stone. Friday nights were spent cozy on the couch catching up on DVR.

Fast forward to seven weeks postpartum.

Taking care of myself and taking care of her are two separate things now.

I have not slept more than four hours straight since Haven entered the world. The first cry she let out that filled me with such awe at 9:32PM on September 25th now makes me shrink with fear and exhaustion on any night after 8PM. The sound can be described somewhere between a banshee and a seriously pissed off goat. This is the sounds that states: “You wanted to sleep through the night? Allow me to sing you the song of my people.”

Instead of bathroom trips, I am making trips to rub her back & “shhhh” her back to sleep, or put a pacifier back in her mouth (four times in a row because she spits it out just as my head hits the pillow every.single.time), or change an explosive diaper and soak poop stained PJs in Clorox 2, bleary eyed, at 2AM.

Picture me as the female sleep deprived Edward Norton in Fight Club. Instead of insomnia induced Ikea furniture purchases, I’m looking at an infomercial for the Shark Duo and it looks like a great idea at 4:25AM on a Sunday.

Eating healthy now? I try. It seems my daughter wants to eat as soon as I get my hands on food. I have not yet mastered nursing a ten and a half pound human being in my arms and eating a meal of my own at the same time. I figure I’ll enjoy food again someday. Right now, we are surviving off of crock pot meals. You can gauge what kind of day we had based on if the crock pot is on or if I’m online ordering carside to go.

Fridays are a day of celebration. It means we survived the week. My last post partum trip to Target was to buy accessories for my breast pump. I still “awww” at the baby clothes but now I’m looking at the material wondering how tough it will be to get bodily fluids out of it. Our DVR is getting close to capacity because we can’t stay awake for a full 30 minute show & if we can, it is paused at least 4 times to say things like: “For God’s sake why can’t you keep the pacifier in your mouth?”, or “Do you smell that? Is it coming from her?” or my favorite: “She’s staring at me … oh no, she has that angry look.”

The things I have learned seven weeks in to motherhood:

1. While it seems like two completely separate things, taking care of myself and her are still intertwined. I have to take care of myself in order to be a good and functioning human being/mother. I take the advice of the amazing nurse I had at the hospital & I don’t care what in the world is going on, I shower every single day. Even if it doesn’t feel like I have a minute to spare, I am showering. That is 10 minutes of alone time to think or laugh or cry – whatever I want. I refuse to give that up or I will be giving up my sanity.

2. It is possible to brush your teeth and soothe a wailing newborn at the same time. I said possible, not easy.

3. If the house is a wreck, if there’s a strange smell coming from the trash that should’ve been taken out yesterday, if there’s a phone call I really need to make… …all that will get taken care of when she’s not sleeping. When she sleeps, I sleep. As a rookie (just a few weeks ago), I had the great misfortune of assuming her sleep time should be my time to get things done. My house will still be dirty a couple years from now and I’m okay with that.

4. It’s okay to ask for help. If I have had the thought: “I can’t do this anymore” more than once in a day, I’m calling someone for help. I’m of no use to my daughter when I’m too exhausted (which unfortunately causes me to become super emotional as well). Asking for help doesn’t make you weak – it makes you sane. That old saying “It takes a village to raise a child” - truer words have never been spoken.

5. It is not okay to judge a woman in a store with a screaming baby. I was guilty of that pre-baby. Now I’m ignoring the stares of all those beady judging eyes thinking: “You don’t know the story. The struggle is real.”

6. Don’t compare yourself to other moms. ‘Nuff said.

7. Some days are just really hard. If I start getting sad, I think of something to look forward to. If it’s the early morning hours when childless people across the nation are still snug in their beds there doesn’t seem to be much to look forward to except maybe coffee. So I think about that warm cup of coffee like it’s the answer to everything.

8. Sometimes coffee is the answer to everything.

9. Make time for your partner. There was a night during the third or fourth week after Haven arrived that I looked at Joe and felt like I hadn’t actually looked at him for days. It may only be a couple of minutes, but we take time to focus on each other each day.

10. My husband is my partner. We are a team. Right now we are in survival mode. It is us against Haven. Sometimes she’s winning. Some nights we crawl in to bed, weary & defeated. Other nights we crawl in to bed feeling we won a small victory. Either way, we crawl in that bed together & hold hands until we fall asleep (or until we hear the previously mentioned banshee/goat wail). That is the romance necessary to survive this adjustment.

Things I remind myself on a daily basis:

1. While everything seems like complete and total chaos right now, we’ll find a routine. Life is no longer “normal”, but we’ll find a “new normal”. Like years of BC or AD, I have BH and AH – years “Before Haven” and years “After Haven”.

2. The hardest day can only last 24 hours.

3. You have to find humor at 2AM when your baby refuses to go back to sleep. This could mean playing Samuel L. Jackson’s reading of “Go the F*%! To Sleep”. Whatever gets you through it.

Summary:

1. Take care of yourself – you need your sanity.

2. Sleep every single second you can. Seriously.

3. I’m really serious about #2.

4. Ask for help. It takes a village so ask your tribe for help!

5. Don’t judge other moms & don’t try to be like other moms. We need to support each other, not tear each other down.

6. Coffee. A lot of it.

7. If you are blessed to have a partner in all the chaos, love them & don’t forget about them. Support each other & remember you can’t both be crazy at the same time.

8. If you are down & out & your whole life makes no sense – remember: coffee. A lot of it.

9. If you cannot possibly remember everything in this summary, at least remember #2.

10. See #3.