12 Weeks

My handsome son turned 12 weeks old today and I have 1 more day with him before I return to work on Monday and end my maternity leave.  This past 12 weeks has certainly not been what I thought it would be.  When my husband and I welcomed our little monkey into this world, we never could have imagined how much life would change and how difficult things would become.  I don’t know why we didn’t anticipate a challenging first 3 months after the 19 hours of induced labor, 2 hours of pushing, ending with a difficult C-section and my son’s head being stuck in my pelvis after waiting an extra 10 days beyond my due date to deliver.  Then coming to find out that our son was still biologically born at 39 weeks—no wonder he wasn’t ready to come out and meet the world!  In any case, here I sit, up at night pumping in hopes that my son will stay asleep just a bit longer tonight as we work on “crying it out” this week so that when I go back to work on Monday, he just might sleep a bit longer at night—he’s has always gained weight well and been healthy, so we knew that this would be an ok option for us to try.  It occurred to me today that much like my husband and me, our little guy has extreme willpower and determination and crying it out doesn’t necessarily seem to wear him down and put him to sleep.  I don’t know why I would have thought he would be any different J.  Our little man has been anything but an “easy” baby, so fussiness and soothing pretty much became our norm early on in his life; however, we have always been able to soothe him and get him pacified.

 

Right around 9 weeks his crying started getting worse and after a week and a half or so, I called the doctor who said it sounded like a classic case of colic.  Well, I’m not sure I was satisfied with that answer, so continued reading Healthy Sleep Habits, Happy Child, which in my opinion is the most disorganized book to read, but it did have some good points about sleeping so I started to pay more attention to my son’s sleep habits and realized that he must not be getting enough sleep.  So crying it out this past week has been rough, but about mid-week there was a peak where it started to get better.  And just when I thought I had it figured out, we come across a day like today:  not much sleep last night means a cranky baby and mommy today.  It’s these days, where as a mama and wife I begin to feel like a failure—inadequate because I can’t even seem to get my own baby to go to sleep when letting him cry and guilty because of how I react to my husband’s efforts to contribute…or not contribute because he thinks I have it under control.  I know that I’m too hard on myself, but just can’t seem to understand why so many other new moms I know don’t seem to have these struggles, or at least don’t talk about them.  Have I been too inconsistent with my responses to my baby?  It has made me question whether or not I’m cut out for this parenthood thing.  All I’ve wanted for as long as I can remember is to be a mom.  My husband and I struggled to get pregnant for about a year and a half so throughout the past 12 weeks, I’ve told myself I cannot complain because this is what I wanted, what I had prayed so often for, what I had spent so much time wanting; and now, I have it, and am faced with the struggles of a fussy baby.  But I feel bad crying to close friends and family members because I “should” be able to handle this; after-all, this is what I had asked God to bring us—a baby.  I’m sure many of my thoughts and feelings are stemming from the fact that I’m returning to a job I don’t exactly like/love and the pursuit of my real dream job has been put on hold.

 

Foolishly in my mind prior to having my son, I planned to work on those goals of beginning my own business while I was on maternity leave—nothing too complex, just easy, simple things that I could do on the computer or at home while the baby was sleeping, between feedings when my husband was available to watch the baby and between the endless loads of anticipated laundry.  HA!  Was I in for a wake-up call!  I never dreamed what it would actually be like, especially with that fussy baby who wanted to be held all the time, who needed almost constant soothing at some points, and who would want to nurse every 2-3 hours.  I never imagined how much energy would be sucked from your life by caring for this little creature.  Well, I’m here to say that I’ve spent the past 12 weeks learning about my son, trying to figure him out and getting to know his every need.  I’ve struggled with breastfeeding, first worried he wasn’t getting enough to eat and then worrying my milk was coming out too fast and was in  I had an oversupply so he wasn’t getting the right balance of foremilk and hind milk, stewing about why he spits up so much.  I’ve sat up in the middle of the night nursing and questioning if I made the right choice in having a child, feeling alone, and wondering if I’ll ever be able to get 4 consecutive hours of sleep again.  I’ve cried for hours on end because I can’t seem to figure out what’s wrong with my precious little baby and wanting to make his hurt go away or fulfill his need but not knowing what that need is.  I’ve worried about holding him too much and creating bad habits for him.  I’ve been challenged with a period of weeks that my husband was away for work during the week so the care of our son was all on me…24 hours a day with no other relief help figure out how to get him to sleep or stop crying.  I’ve felt bad for and wondered how single moms can do all this, and thought if they can, then I surely should be able to.  I’ve wondered why someone hasn’t been able to figure out how to make the first 4-6 weeks of a baby’s life easier on the parents and how other people survive this period.  We were displaced from our home for about a week around week 5 because of a plumbing problem and had to stay at a friend’s home because we didn’t know when we would be able to get back into our house; adding the stress of being away from home with a newborn and putting stress on another family.  I’ve watched the clock turn 2 hours in the middle of the night while nursing, pumping or soothing my baby and felt as though it had only been 20 minutes while my husband slept peacefully or was away on work.  And I’ve also watched the clock turn 2 hours while waiting for him to stop crying and find sleep and sweet dreams and felt as though it had been an eternity.  I’ve prayed abundantly for sleep for my son and patience for his parents when trying to help him.  I’ve cried many tears worrying that I’m not doing what’s best for my baby and for me; worrying that if he cries a second longer, I might hurt him.  I’ve even gone through a time of resentment and anger towards him…for making me lose so much sleep and making me set my dreams aside.  I’m not happy about these dark thoughts, but I have to face that fact that they have been present and in my mind during this joyous time of my life.  It’s not been easy. 

I have to constantly remind myself to be present in this moment and enjoy this time that I have been given.  My daily yoga practice has helped me cope, but I have to admit that there are days that I am so tired and frustrated, and probably need my practice the most, that I set it aside.  That the nourishment and fulfillment I receive from doing something for my spirit, mind and body is just too much to conquer on that day.  My husband doesn’t always know what to say or do to help me feel better, but then again, he didn’t always know before we had the baby either, so I need to remember that we are two separate people and to be more patient with him.  We are in this together and learning as we go.  I need to communicate my feelings better with him to help him understand where this over-tired mama is coming from.  And somehow when I’ve reached the peak of frustration and tiredness, God seems to put someone or something in place to renew my faith and help me feel refreshed and able to conquer mommy-hood once again.

When you start out in your pregnancy, the first 12 weeks are an eternity, waiting for the excitement to share your joy with others, to enter that “safe zone”; then after you’ve met your creation for the first time, the first 12 weeks of life go by faster than you could ever believe.  And as I prepare to return to work on Monday, I’m torn between wanting to work just so I can have a break from my little man when he’s fussy, but not wanting to return to a job that doesn’t fill my bucket and end my time caring for him full time.  Knowing this, I must trust that plan that is out there for me and that everything is just as it should be.  Beginning my yoga and fitness business will still be a reality; it just may not come as soon as I had hoped.  The difficult times do and shall pass and there will always be a new challenge to face.  And in the end, it’s your perspective on life that brings you through each one of these LITTLE blessings.