Thoughts of a New Mom

Be warned: you're about to catch a glimpse of my mind, and it can be a very scary place.

Well, kids, I feel like I can breathe again. The first month or two of Peanut's life were kind of a whirlwind, and I wasn't sure I was going to make it.  But she's sleeping through the night now (yes, I know how lucky we are), and we've maybe kind of sort of found a rhythm with breastfeeding, and she's basically a dream child.  For now.  I don't know if we're through the woods, or if it's just the eye of the storm, but I am thankful for the rest, and the quiet, and the slow pace of life in which to soak up every minute of this baby girl.

A couple of months ago, this was not the case.  When we took her in for her two week check-up, what our pediatrician (and friend) seemed most concerned about was Tim and I and how little sleep we were getting. I guess we were looking a little rough.  But what concerned me was that she was concerned.  Aren't all parents of two-week old's exhausted?  Were we just whinier, or were we worse than normal?  I know it's an adjustment for everyone, but it felt really rough for us.  Were we having a harder time than other new parents?  If so, why?  Maybe it's because we had 8 years just the two of us.  Maybe it's because we still weren't sure we were ready to be parents.  I don't know.  But I kind of felt alone.  Like, "I know everyone else goes through this, but they don't do it quite like this."  And it's true.  My friend shared this fantastic article* with me, and the line that stuck out to me the most was.

"You've likely heard this so many times that you've stopped hearing it, but having a kid changes everything. That means different things for different couples, and different things for every individual, and it takes many months to begin to understand what it means for you..."

I can't even begin to explain how my life has been flip-turned upside down, because I'm still not even sure I understand.  It's a little unnerving, because sometimes I feel like I don't even know who I am anymore.  Speaking of feelings...motherhood has opened up ALL the feels I could feel.  I'm not really a feelings kind of person...I don't even know what to do with all of the feels.

*Sidenote: Tim never asks "What did you do all day?", at least not in that accusatory way.  He is so full of grace, and I am so thankful.

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In early October, when I was about six months pregnant, a very dear, precious friend of mine lost her little boy.  He was 3 years old and was in a farm accident.  He died in her arms the next day.  I can't begin to tell you how much that broke my heart, and I can't begin to imagine how it broke hers.  Not surprisingly, this has impacted how I have parented my Peanut from day 1.  I want to soak up every moment, because I don't know how long I'll have her.  And for all I know, she could be my last child...there are not guarantees.

Another dear, precious friend recently sent me a book she read when she was a new mother.  I'm still working through it, and it has been so good in helping me work through my feels.  The author, Lisa-Jo, lost her mother when she was 18 years old. I'm reminded that I'm not guaranteed another day on this earth either, and I want to communicate to the Peanut how intensely I love her every day.  So we sit and we snuggle.  All day.  Every day.  She takes about 4-5 little naps per day, and I prefer that 1-4 or 5 of those naps are taken while I'm holding her.

My own mother lost her mom when they were both too young as well. My grandma never met any of us kids. My mom had to become a mom without her mom.  I honestly don't know how she did it, but I am blown away by how much courage that must have taken.  I'm so glad that I have my mom to help me be a mom.  To tell me I'm doing a good job.  To love my daughter like crazy.  To tell me that even though things aren't going like the books say they should, they're going fine, and I'm doing fine, and my girl is doing fine.  I'm glad she texts me and calls me to see how I'm doing.  It means so much to me.  Mom, I love you!

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Sometimes I look at the little mittens the Peanut wears, and wonder what the child who made them in  a sweatshop thought as they sewed.  Did they laugh at us Americans, that we would need such a frivolous thing for our babies?  Did they resent that a baby would be so treasured and loved that someone would think to put mittens on it? Becoming a mom has placed a huge, heavy, sometimes oppressive burden on my heart for moms and children that do not have love and support.  Sometimes I feel for them so strongly that it is almost suffocating.  But I know that people are resilient.  And I know that God is good, all the time. All the time, God is good. He makes beauty from ashes.  And he loves these people even more that I do.  He sees them.  He knows their names.  He knows their struggles.  He has a plan.  So I will rest in Him and His promises.  I will ask Him to carry that burden, because it is too heavy for me.  He is able.  I will make myself available.  And I will encourage anyone I can, whenever I can.  Praise God, from Whom all blessing flow!

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When I was pregnant, I kind of wanted a boy because I thought I didn't know how to be a mom to a girl.  Now that I've met the Peanut, I'm so glad God gave me a girl!  Specifically, I'm glad He gave me this girl.  Because she's pretty awesome.  And I also realized that I have no idea how to be a mom to a boy, either!  The thing is, these little people teach you how to parent them.

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I'm so glad that I started nursing school before I had a baby, because otherwise, I would truly have no idea how to take care of this little person. During my pregnancy and in the early weeks with the Peanut, I would reference my peds and OB textbook so many times the pages were curling.  And I would go over and over the information from childbirth classes and the hospital.  And the Peanut would not follow the book, especially in respect to eating.  Lots of people tend to have feedback and advice for new parents.  It can be a little confusing.  And let's not even talk about the information you can find when you google.  I've finally figured out that these are the people I should listen to in regards to how to care for my child:

1) My parents
2) Tim's parents
3) My pediatrician
4) Anyone who tells me that I'm doing fine, especially if their kid did the same thing and turned out fine.

That's all.  No one else.  Mostly, I just need to listen to the people that are telling me we're doing ok.  Because mostly, we're doing ok.  Probably.  Time will tell.

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When I graduated from high school, I wanted to be a doctor.  Then I changed plans, and figured I would be a stay at home mom.  Then I wasn't sure I wanted to be a mom, but I wasn't sure I didn't either.  Then I decided to become a nurse.  Then I started nursing school.  Then I got pregnant.  God has carried me through nursing school and made it clear in so many ways that He has called me to be a nurse.  And He also obviously called me to be a mother.  As I already mentioned, nursing school has helped prepare me to be a mom.  Then I had a baby, via c-section, and the nurses that cared for me were phenomenal.  They knew what I needed before I did. They cared for me when I was so broken and vulnerable, and literally helped me get back on my feet again.  They watched us so closely in labor, and when things should have been scary for me, they weren't, because I knew those nurses were watching us like a hawk and were on top of it.  And one nurse in particular said just the right thing at just the right time, the morning after my c-section, when she got me out of bed and starting (oh so slowly) to feel like a person again.

In school, I worked so  hard to master the knowledge and skills necessary to care for people.  But I kept remembering what my experienced nurse friend told me when I first told her I was thinking of becoming a nurse.  She said "Nursing gives you a unique opportunity to minister to people when they are are their lowest."  Being the patient puts a whole new perspective on nursing.  The nurses in the OB department truly ministered to me in a time that was full of joy, yes, but also overwhelming fear and uncertainty.  My life and identity (not to mention my body) were changed when my daughter was born, and those nurses rolled up their sleeves and leaned right in to caring for me.  I miss them.  I want to move back in to the hospital...

All of that to say, this journey into motherhood has prepared me to be a better nurse.  So I'm not sure if God made me a nurse to help me be a mom, or made me a mom to help me be a nurse.  But the Glory of God is that it is both of those things, and probably so much more that I don't even know yet.

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Nursing school is a double-edged sword, though.  You learn about all kinds of things to worry about, that you didn't even know where a thing.  A few weeks ago, I was almost convinced the Peanut had intussusception and was going to take her to the ER.  Just because she was fussy and hadn't pooped according to her usual schedule.  Instead, I messaged my friend who is a mother and a pediatric nurse and ran it by her.  She talked some sense into me, and laughed with me, saying she goes through the same things.

Motherhood is not a solo gig.  It should not be done in isolation, or else you quickly (oh so quickly) spin off into crazy land!  I'm so thankful for Big Time Timmy Jim, and for my friends.  Other mom friends who struggled through breastfeeding, who aren't afraid to get personal.  I'm thankful for my many close friends who have also had c-sections, who tell me that, heck yes, it takes a full 6 weeks, if not longer, to recover.  Thankful for friends I can call to watch the Peanut for a minute, who are used to my messy house, and who don't bat an eye when I have a pile of kleenex because I wrote a pile of thank you notes that brought tears to my eyes.  I am thankful for so many people that love me for me, despite the fact that I'm a disaster, and love my daughter and tell me how great she is, and who are cheering for our little family.  And I'm thankful that from the very beginning, years before the Peanut was conceived, God whispered in my ear, "I am with you.  I am right here."