Motherhood isn’t for Sissies

A lot is going through my mind and heart as I think about what I want to write. These last few weeks have been so very difficult, being emotionally and physically exhausting. I have been so tired. I have been sad. I have been lonely. I have been more overwhelmed than I ever thought possible. I’ve been pushed almost beyond my limits more times than I can count. But I hope that in writing this, other new moms will find comfort and empathy for what they might be going through.

For the most part, I think I had a fairly good grasp of what motherhood would be like (you know, for someone with no children). I knew it wouldn’t be all fun and games, sitting around playing with baby all day. I knew I probably wouldn’t sleep much there at the beginning. I knew that it would be hard. But only now do I realize what that truly meant. And I thought my internship at pastry school with its 10-12 hour days was demanding! This is hard!

Nathan’s sleeping has only slightly improved (if at all) and I still spend most of my nights getting up way too often and for too long. And sleep deprivation turns me into a different person. A sad, exhausted, hopeless person. Well meaning friends and acquaintances will say things like “oh, my baby is 6 months/8 months/a year old, and (s)he’s still not sleeping through the night”. While I suppose misery loves company, all I really hear is that I might have to live like this for up to another 8 1/2 months and I try not to give in to my sleep-deprived despair. 

And then there is everything else besides the sleeping! Making sure he’s getting enough to eat, getting enough playtime, enough interaction. Wondering if I’m completely messing up my child when we have a horrible nap day. Feeling like I can’t leave the apartment because it will mess up his schedule. Hearing other moms talk about how fun it is for them to be a mom or telling me to “enjoy every moment” and thinking something is wrong with me for struggling so much. Feeling awful every time I just get frustrated. Wishing that I could have more than 30 minutes to myself during the day to actually get something done, whether it be something for fun, or getting dinner on the table. Worrying about everything, from the temperature of his room at night (too hot?! too cold?!) to if he’s going to get sick after his shots at the doctor. Thinking I’ll never get out of ‘survival’ mode. Second guessing myself on well, everything.  Feeling like I’m failing. Wondering how on earth Heavenly Father could have ever trusted me enough to raise this little man.

And yet, I’m learning so much. I’m being stretched and pulled, and as a result, I’m growing. Every day is a new day. And in the midst of all the craziness, I get little rays of sunshine like this:
Or this:

I’m realizing that Nathan loves me anyway, despite all my imperfections. I thought I knew what love was when I found John. But my capacity to love has increased more than I could have imagined, for both John and Nathan. And as difficult as it is for me, I’m learning to let things go a little (laundry/dinner/etc.). Because they are little things in comparison to what I can do with/for Nathan. It’s still hard, and I think it will always be hard. There will be more rough days, more sleepless nights. But sometimes as I watch my little man sleep or when I snuggle him in my arms or see his whole face light up in a smile when he sees me, I feel a sense of wonder that he’s mine. That I am a mother. That I am his mother. It is the greatest undertaking I will ever make.