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So for those of you that know me, I've never been a really strong person. I'm not talking about being able to lift weights - although I can't do that either! I'm talking about not being able to stomach certain things very well... needles, blood, pain, etc. I mean really. Ask my parents about the fun they had trying to pull my teeth when I was a child. Or ask Austin about the bloody incident right after he got his wisdom teeth out! I just don't do well in these types of situations. I get queasy and faint. It's how it's always been.
So, when Austin and I first started talking about babies, we wanted to make sure we were both ready. I obviously realized that if I wanted a baby that would mean I would have to go through the labor and birth. And while this scared the crap out of me, I honestly didn't put much thought into it. When I knew I was ready to have a baby, I just hoped and prayed that when the time came for the actual birth part, some mother's instinct would kick it and get me through it! And this was my thought process all throughout us trying and probably the first 6 months of this pregnancy even! I didn't want to hear your stories about how the process went for you. I didn't want to watch any videos or read too much about the process. I was going to be blissfully ignorant and pray for those mommy skills to take over. I'm serious when I say I really tried not to think about the actual birthing process much throughout this pregnancy. I would think about everything going on with my pregnancy and I would think about everything that will happen once this baby comes. I would just skip the part when the baby makes his/her appearance!
When I did let myself think about it, I would tell Austin that it was one of my biggest fears with this pregnancy. Not necessarily what would be happening, but if I was strong enough or not to actually do what needs to be done. What if I couldn't? What if I couldn't stomach through the pain? What if those mothering instincts didn't kick in? This was my fear.
Now we're getting close. We're a little over a month away from welcoming this baby into the world. Soon I'm going to have to find out if I'm strong enough. But as we get closer, I'm starting to feel more calm about what's going to happen. The birthing classes helped. It helped knowing exactly what happens in each stage and what I'll be going through. And as much as I didn't want to, I did watch a video of a baby being born. :) And it wasn't too bad. Although I still don't think I want to watch while I'm going through it. And I do think that some of those mother instincts have kicked in. I feel more comfortable with what needs to be done.
Don't get me wrong, I'm still nervous! But I know I can do it. I know people will say "You'll be fine, don't worry, your body is made for this, etc." And I understand all that, I do. But I don't think hearing it is really going to help. This is just one of those things that you're not really going to know until you've gone through it. And soon, I'll be able to say that I've gone through this miraculous experience.
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Well I survived the birth and labor process. Although it didn't happen the way I wanted it to, we still ended up with a healthy beautiful baby boy. And that's all that matters. I learned that I was strong enough. I could handle the pain of contractions. I could handle being uncomfortable. I could handle pushing. I could handle a major surgery. I could handle the recovery. And I did handle it all. And it was all surprisingly easy. Well, the process might not have been easy, but being able to handle it, being strong enough, was easy. It came naturally. And just like that, I became a mom.
Being a mom is everything that I expected it to be and nothing at all like I expected it to be.
Everything is different when it's your own baby. I was okay with babies before, never quite sure how to act because I didn't want to hold the baby wrong or feed him/her wrong with mom sitting close by, watching me. (not saying this did happen, but that's just how I would feel) I wasn't excited to change dirty diapers - gross. I actually didn't want to do with that at all. Or deal with throw up. Or boogers. Or blood, especially blood. But it changes when it's your own flesh and blood. Dirty diapers don't bother me. Being covered in throw up doesn't bother me. I actually have a sick obsession with getting boogers out of my son's nose. And the blood? Well, luckily I haven't had to deal with that yet but that might be one I'm still not okay with. :)
Before my son was born, I was nervous. I was nervous about making that transition into motherhood. How was I going to raise a baby? How will I know what to do? Will I be doing everything correctly? Or am I going to royally screw this kid up?
Once my son arrived, I was almost surprised at how easily things came to me. I'm not saying here that being a mom and taking care of a baby is easy, because it's not. But with certain things, I just knew what to do. And maybe easy isn't the right word. Things came naturally. I felt completely comfortable holding my baby. I felt comfortable changing his diaper. I felt comfortable feeding him. Patience came quickly and easily when listening to his cries and learning what he needed from me. There were certainly things I needed help with or wanted assistance before venturing out on my own. And I still have questions where I consult my book, my parents or fellow parents. But I felt like a mom.
And I love being a mom. I love being responsible for another life. I love that he is so dependent on me right now. I love learning about him. I love being able to comfort him when he's crying. I love cuddling with him. I love feeding him. I love bathing him. I love playing with him. I love singing to him. Talking to him. Teaching him. I love his smiles. I love watching him grow and change before my very eyes every day. I love knowing he is a part of me. And part of my husband. Part of us.
But being a mom is hard. There are days when I can't stand his crying. When I do have no patience for it. There are days when I feel like all I do is feed, change a diaper, rock the baby until he sleeps for a very short nap and then do it all over again, getting nothing else accomplished for the day. There are days when I don't want to leave the house because it's just too much work with a newborn. And there are days when all I want to do is leave the house and have some adult time without a baby around. There are days when after finally getting him to fall asleep, I start to close my eyes and he wakes up. There are days when I feel so exhausted all I want to do is sit in a corner and cry.
But then he smiles at me. And my heart literally melts. Every damn time. And I forget everything else.
But I still worry sometimes. I remember that first day home from the hospital. I broke down and cried because I was scared and nervous. How were we going to take care of this baby? Are we going to do everything right? And while some of that has disappeared, I still feel that way some days. I worry about his sleeping habits. Have we created bad habits and how do we change them now? I worry about his little head and how he has a little bit of flat spot on one side. Will we be able to fix it without having to spend a ton of money on some fancy helmet? I worry when he cries sometimes. Is he in pain and just can't tell me? I always worry when he gags or sounds like he's catching his breath. Why haven't I learned baby CPR yet? I worry that we're not stimulating him enough, or that we're over-stimulating him. I worry we're not doing enough tummy time. I worry we're not reading to him enough, or singing to him or even talking to him enough. I worry. About a lot of things. But we can only keep going like we are, learning as we go. And praying that it will all work out in the end! :)
But I can not get enough of my little man. I love spending every day with him. Sometimes it's hard for me to share him, even though I know I need to! I also know that I would do anything for this baby boy. I will do anything to make him happy. I will do anything to protect him and keep him safe. I will do anything he needs from me. Especially when I want to keep him away from pain. Because it pains me to my core when he is in pain. Two month shots - horrible. Baby feeling sick and not himself - horrible. These times when he's in pain and crying, I'm in pain and crying. I want to help him so bad! Although I know there are times when I won't be able to. I know there are times when he'll have to have pain in order to learn, to grow. But I know I'm not going to like it. I wish I could always take away his pain. Because I love him so much. So much it hurts sometimes! I love him so much I just want to squeeze him and hold him. I love him so much that sometimes I'll just cry when I look at him. I love him so much that I'll physically miss him when he not in my arms, even if he's just napping on the other couch or in his crib. I love him so much.
You don't realize how much you can actually love another person until you have a child. It is an immeasurable amount of love. It is a parent's love. A mother's love.
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