a new chapter
It's been ~8.5 years since my last post on this blog. Figured I could start a new one for this new chapter of life or revive my old one and marvel at how much things have changed since I started this thing back in 2003. Obviously I've chosen the latter. So with that, welcome to my journey of motherhood. We're 6 months into this new stage of life and figured it'd be a good time to reflect on the past half year. Full stop warning that this'll be a long one, so without further adieu...
. . . . .
The transition into motherhood was an extremely difficult one for me. Pregnancy went quite smoothly and for the most part any discomforts were pretty tolerable. Then at 40 weeks + 3 days we were told that I'd need to have an elective C-section because baby boy still hadn't dropped and it would be risky to try and deliver him normally. While I always knew in the back of my mind that a CS might be a possibility, it was definitely the last resort on my list of preferred outcomes. That said, there were some positives about having it be elective versus emergent: we were able to somewhat prepare (being given less than 24 hours between appointment and scheduled procedure) and at least we knew what to expect in terms of how the surgery would go.
However, nothing prepared me for everything that happened after our little timbit showed up on this side of the womb. For anyone that knows me, you'll know I'm extremely prone to nausea and that it's usually pretty debilitating (although I ironically didn't have much of it when I was pregnant). The nausea that accompanied the anesthesia I was given during surgery and post-op was tenfold worse than all the needles I had to endure (nurse missed twice putting in the IV... facepalm). Then there was the getting out of bed for the first time to go to the bathroom and getting dizzy from the pain and the meds. Then there was the crash course into nursing and the discomforts that came with that. Then there was the car ride home where every bump was excruciatingly painful. But all that paled in comparison to the month that followed. The days and weeks after coming home from the hospital were an absolutely insane mix of post-op scares & ER visits, follow-up tests and scans, surgery recovery, daily anxiety attacks, heavy buyer's remorse, and of course sleep deprivation that's probably equivalent to some sort of torture tactic in some part of the world. All of a sudden I realized and felt all 24 hours of a day and I found myself wondering why in the world we did this... voluntarily... and how in the world anyone would want to do this more than once.
In hindsight, I was exactly like Rachel from Friends. I had read all the books about pregnancy, labour, and delivery, but hadn't delved into the vast ocean of information on parenting that all pretty much contradicted one another. One thing you should know about me is I like to be prepared. I like to take my time examining my options and weighing things in my mind before deciding what to do or how to do it. But reality hit. The tiny human was here. There was no time to "take my time" nor did I have the mental capacity to comprehend and analyze everything I was reading in my half-zombie state of mind. The funny thing about that first month is I did what came innate to me when I'm overwhelmed. I leaned on my "village" asking for guidance, support, and wisdom. Everybody basically said the same thing: "Oh yes, the early days are hard, but it gets better." My first reaction in my mind was, "Why the heck didn't any of you tell me this beforehand???" But what I said out loud was, "When?!?!?" The responses I received varied from "8-12 weeks", "3 months", and "100 days". When you feel every hour of the day and the days crawl by seemingly to no end, all of those answers feel like an eternity away. I felt trapped and questioning how in the world I would make it to any of those benchmarks. I prayed and pleaded with God asking for wisdom, strength, mercy, and grace and often felt like He had forgotten me.
Fast forward to 5 weeks postpartum. Suddenly when I woke up in the mornings after another short stint of sleep I didn't feel like I got hit by a bus. Suddenly I had a smidge more energy than before. Suddenly the anxiety attacks weren't as prominent. Now don't get me wrong, everything was still crazy hard... but something changed. Something was different. I started to feel like I could be alone with the tiny human (versus having the hubs and in-laws around all the time), and maybe, just maybe, we'd be okay.
Fast forward again to 3 months postpartum. Kiddo and I had finally figured out the breastfeeding thing after all the ups, downs, and pains of the first two months. We even started to venture out on our own and miraculously made it there and back alive. Husband and I even made it out to a wedding reception, leaving baby under the watchful eye of his grandparents and cousins (mind you this was the only time this has happened thus far).
And now here we are at 6 months and tiny human isn't so tiny anymore. He mastered rolling from back to front first before learning how to roll back, which made for some very challenging middle of the night wakings when I'd have to go in and flip him over like a pancake and soothe him back to sleep. He had no issue transitioning from bassinet in our room to his own crib in the nursery, but lost his mind when we took him to France and put him in his crib again when we came back. That said, we made it to France and back. On four planes. While his two little teeth were coming in. He smiles a ton, laughs at the strangest things, gets mesmerized by the most mundane things, and gets lots of compliments from strangers both locally and abroad.
I can't realistically say "6 months just flew by" because for me time has felt both fast and slow in the past half year. Truthfully, there are still a lot of moments in my mind where I mourn the loss of my life before. The days when we could travel freely, go out with friends, go out on dates, play sports, and sleep... oh how I miss sleep. If I'm being brutally honest I would say that I don't really know that I wanted to be a mom prior to getting pregnant. I know this is awful to say considering I have many a friend who has struggled or is currently struggling with fertility issues, but I never had a deep drive or yearning to be a mom. I was perfectly content being the fun aunt to my niece, nephew, and all the other babies/kids in my community. God thought otherwise.
Looking back at this journey so far, this new phase of life, this new title, is both an incredible blessing and an insane challenge. But I can see God's grace peppered throughout these past 6 months (more on that some other time). I can see His provisions, giving me just enough energy, just enough sleep, and just enough support to get through the rough days. And while I watch my little person change and grow month to month, I can see how I'm being molded into a real mom (versus the Pinterest mom I'm sure people had in mind when they told me I'd make a great mom). Cuz truth is I have no idea how to be someone's mom. I'm still learning, still growing, and still Googling a bazillion things (e.g. "How to start solids"). That will probably never end... but I guess the most important thing is that I'm still here, still breathing, and still trying to keep the not-so-tiny human alive. Motherhood is hard. But it's the hardest things in life that are often the most worthwhile, right? :)
The transition into motherhood was an extremely difficult one for me. Pregnancy went quite smoothly and for the most part any discomforts were pretty tolerable. Then at 40 weeks + 3 days we were told that I'd need to have an elective C-section because baby boy still hadn't dropped and it would be risky to try and deliver him normally. While I always knew in the back of my mind that a CS might be a possibility, it was definitely the last resort on my list of preferred outcomes. That said, there were some positives about having it be elective versus emergent: we were able to somewhat prepare (being given less than 24 hours between appointment and scheduled procedure) and at least we knew what to expect in terms of how the surgery would go.
However, nothing prepared me for everything that happened after our little timbit showed up on this side of the womb. For anyone that knows me, you'll know I'm extremely prone to nausea and that it's usually pretty debilitating (although I ironically didn't have much of it when I was pregnant). The nausea that accompanied the anesthesia I was given during surgery and post-op was tenfold worse than all the needles I had to endure (nurse missed twice putting in the IV... facepalm). Then there was the getting out of bed for the first time to go to the bathroom and getting dizzy from the pain and the meds. Then there was the crash course into nursing and the discomforts that came with that. Then there was the car ride home where every bump was excruciatingly painful. But all that paled in comparison to the month that followed. The days and weeks after coming home from the hospital were an absolutely insane mix of post-op scares & ER visits, follow-up tests and scans, surgery recovery, daily anxiety attacks, heavy buyer's remorse, and of course sleep deprivation that's probably equivalent to some sort of torture tactic in some part of the world. All of a sudden I realized and felt all 24 hours of a day and I found myself wondering why in the world we did this... voluntarily... and how in the world anyone would want to do this more than once.
In hindsight, I was exactly like Rachel from Friends. I had read all the books about pregnancy, labour, and delivery, but hadn't delved into the vast ocean of information on parenting that all pretty much contradicted one another. One thing you should know about me is I like to be prepared. I like to take my time examining my options and weighing things in my mind before deciding what to do or how to do it. But reality hit. The tiny human was here. There was no time to "take my time" nor did I have the mental capacity to comprehend and analyze everything I was reading in my half-zombie state of mind. The funny thing about that first month is I did what came innate to me when I'm overwhelmed. I leaned on my "village" asking for guidance, support, and wisdom. Everybody basically said the same thing: "Oh yes, the early days are hard, but it gets better." My first reaction in my mind was, "Why the heck didn't any of you tell me this beforehand???" But what I said out loud was, "When?!?!?" The responses I received varied from "8-12 weeks", "3 months", and "100 days". When you feel every hour of the day and the days crawl by seemingly to no end, all of those answers feel like an eternity away. I felt trapped and questioning how in the world I would make it to any of those benchmarks. I prayed and pleaded with God asking for wisdom, strength, mercy, and grace and often felt like He had forgotten me.
Fast forward to 5 weeks postpartum. Suddenly when I woke up in the mornings after another short stint of sleep I didn't feel like I got hit by a bus. Suddenly I had a smidge more energy than before. Suddenly the anxiety attacks weren't as prominent. Now don't get me wrong, everything was still crazy hard... but something changed. Something was different. I started to feel like I could be alone with the tiny human (versus having the hubs and in-laws around all the time), and maybe, just maybe, we'd be okay.
Fast forward again to 3 months postpartum. Kiddo and I had finally figured out the breastfeeding thing after all the ups, downs, and pains of the first two months. We even started to venture out on our own and miraculously made it there and back alive. Husband and I even made it out to a wedding reception, leaving baby under the watchful eye of his grandparents and cousins (mind you this was the only time this has happened thus far).
And now here we are at 6 months and tiny human isn't so tiny anymore. He mastered rolling from back to front first before learning how to roll back, which made for some very challenging middle of the night wakings when I'd have to go in and flip him over like a pancake and soothe him back to sleep. He had no issue transitioning from bassinet in our room to his own crib in the nursery, but lost his mind when we took him to France and put him in his crib again when we came back. That said, we made it to France and back. On four planes. While his two little teeth were coming in. He smiles a ton, laughs at the strangest things, gets mesmerized by the most mundane things, and gets lots of compliments from strangers both locally and abroad.
I can't realistically say "6 months just flew by" because for me time has felt both fast and slow in the past half year. Truthfully, there are still a lot of moments in my mind where I mourn the loss of my life before. The days when we could travel freely, go out with friends, go out on dates, play sports, and sleep... oh how I miss sleep. If I'm being brutally honest I would say that I don't really know that I wanted to be a mom prior to getting pregnant. I know this is awful to say considering I have many a friend who has struggled or is currently struggling with fertility issues, but I never had a deep drive or yearning to be a mom. I was perfectly content being the fun aunt to my niece, nephew, and all the other babies/kids in my community. God thought otherwise.
Looking back at this journey so far, this new phase of life, this new title, is both an incredible blessing and an insane challenge. But I can see God's grace peppered throughout these past 6 months (more on that some other time). I can see His provisions, giving me just enough energy, just enough sleep, and just enough support to get through the rough days. And while I watch my little person change and grow month to month, I can see how I'm being molded into a real mom (versus the Pinterest mom I'm sure people had in mind when they told me I'd make a great mom). Cuz truth is I have no idea how to be someone's mom. I'm still learning, still growing, and still Googling a bazillion things (e.g. "How to start solids"). That will probably never end... but I guess the most important thing is that I'm still here, still breathing, and still trying to keep the not-so-tiny human alive. Motherhood is hard. But it's the hardest things in life that are often the most worthwhile, right? :)
a new chapter
![a new chapter]()
Reviewed by hazel
on
10:33 PM
Rating: 5