(An excerpt from the soon to be released "Woven in the Womb")
The bomb of postpartum reality has detonated.
No one ever told me it was going to be this hard.
I think that we black out during the newborn part of our motherhood experiences. Because similar to pregnancy, we know all the work is worth it. But while we are living it, the nights are long. The days are long. Who even knows what time of day it is anymore?
I don’t know about you, but I had the impression that newborns slept all of the time before I became a mother myself. I also thought that they would feed and go right back to sleep. I didn’t know anything about cluster feedings. I didn’t know that they needed so much bouncing and burping to be comfortable. I didn’t know that I would be obsessed with every little detail about my child and the pressure to keep her alive.
I had one more week of mommy experience under my belt. But I still felt like I was drowning. The second baby was much easier than my first. But all newborns are difficult in their own ways.
My second child had colic with trouble breastfeeding as well because she had multiple food allergies. She began rejecting my breast milk and screaming while I tried to desperately feed her with what I thought was best.
On one of my desperate days, I remember going off at the post office. I had ordered a booty trumpet to relieve my baby’s gas and constipation. My package got lost during a busy holiday season. That small funnel was the my lifeline to my sleep. And when the sweet lady at the postoffice could not find it, I went ballistic. Postal at the post office. It was not my finest moment as a human being. But when you have a lady standing between you and your sanity, you want to climb on top of that post office desk and scream at the top of your lungs.
I needed help! That booty trumpet was essential to my mental health, why wouldn’t the lady want to go the extra mile to help me?? I could barely make it to the post office with this screaming baby.
The poor lady shrugged apologetically. This crazy mama was losing her mind.
Sometimes this newborn experience can feel like you are going crazy.
Our worlds are crashing while the rest of the world still orbits casually around its axis.
The highs are the highest you may have ever felt.
And the lows are the lowest you may have ever felt.
It is hard. But it will pass. I promise.
I did not get my baby booty trumpet that day. I left the post office discouraged. When I finally did get the booty trumpet, the flimsy plastic did not even work anyways. Those five star reviews had lied to me. I just had to accept my fussy baby the way she was.
I learned a new lesson for my own discomfort. I was colicky in the presence of God. My colicky mother experience was part of maturing my faith. As my baby’s gut matured, I became wiser as an allergy parent. My baby got exactly what she needed. Caring for an allergy kid, we learn to give them what they need and not what they want. In my mommy discomfort, God gave me what I needed rather than what I wanted.
I learned to live in my discomfort. My new normal was not having everything turn out exactly as I planned. When I let go, I began to see the little mercies everyday that God sent to encourage me.
It’s okay to be discouraged during this part of the journey. The discouragement that mamas face is deep and real. God will meet you in these places and provide for the most precious part of your heart. As you grow through the discomforts of your mommy journey, you will see the goodness of God. And it will be beautiful.
Comments