Motherhood is a strange thing. I feel like myself, but different somehow. In the beginning it was possible to have moments where I’d kind of forget I was a mom. Like when Clara would sleep for four hours straight and wake up for 10 minutes and then fall asleep for another four hours. Tim and I would sit on the couch and watch one Modern Family show after another and it would just feel like a lazy day, except it would be a Tuesday and gorgeous weather out and we’d be trapped indoors.
I expected the newborn days/weeks/months to be the absolute worst extremely challenging, but over 3 weeks in and I’m still not struggling as much as I had (perhaps pessimistically) anticipated.
That being said, some days are better than others and certainly some moments are better than others.
During my worst moments I worry about I’ve gotten myself into. I realize that I have absolutely no clue what I’m doing and I wonder how they let me leave the hospital with a tiny human to take care of, (with no formal training)! I picture myself eventually dealing with a teenager (or two) and get overwhelmed. I read news stories and worry about the world Clara will grow up in and my ability to protect her. There are moments I become impatient because she’s crying or because she’s straining her legs against my abdomen, causing pain to the incision. I find myself getting frustrated that I need to stop eating dinner so I can feed my hungry baby, even though she just ate. There are many times I long to be outside doing something active instead of sitting on my couch all day, but I know those possibilities are many weeks away. I’m intimidated to plan events or outings because I don’t know if Clara will be awake or asleep, or hungry or satisfied at any given time. I get tired of recovering from the c-section and I get tired of having leaky boobs and I get tired of being physically restricted from doing just about anything at all. There are plenty of moments in which I admit to myself that caring for a newborn just isn’t so great.
But at the best moments, which are far more numerous than the worst moments, I remember that God has uniquely equipped me to handle this baby, who was made in His image. I look at her face and cherish each moment because she’s growing every second of every day and I know that this phase will seem so short and precious in the years to come. Some of my favorite moments are those in which I watch Clara sleep and see Tim in her and I love her and him both more because of it. The best moments are those in which I remember that I am a mother to this baby girl, and that role is important. There are moments when I look down at her while she’s breastfeeding and am struck at how simple it all can be – I can feed her with my own body – how neat is that?! The female body is miraculous.
I’m looking forward to the moments to come – both good and bad. Every day is a new adventure and I never know what to expect!
Cheers!
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