I love doing this. I love being a mother, I love being his mother. I really do find joy in the hard parts, the mundane parts... all of it. I wouldn't trade this for the world.
That being said, this is not easy. No one said it would be, and I didn't think it would be, but damn.
I've always been a "high stress" sort of person. I work best that way. I move quickly, I multitask, I don't let things wait to get done. I've been that way for as long as I can remember. That part of motherhood, the 100 things at once part, has been the easiest for me so far.
The breastfeeding battle has been hard. I mentioned it in a previous post, but really, it's hard. I feel absolutely terrible about it. I stay up at night crying about it (and I'm up a lot of nights). The overwhelming urge, no, need to be the sole source of nourishment for my son is so powerful. It breaks my heart that he simply isn't getting enough from me. We've been to lactation consultants and done weights before and after feedings, and it's just not enough. I feel like a complete and utter failure. I know in my heart that I'm doing the right thing by supplementing with formula. I will not let him go hungry. It's my job to feed him, however it takes. That knowledge doesn't make it any less painful to prepare a bottle of formula for him after 30 minutes of breastfeeding though. Pardon the language, but it fucking sucks. Simple as that. I know that having my reduction was the right thing to do, for me. I know that lots of women who haven't had breast surgeries have a hard time breastfeeding. I know that there is nothing wrong with formula.
It still fucking sucks.
I'm in the middle of what is probably the worst Lupus flare I've ever had. I'm fatigued in a way I've never experienced. My hands and elbows ache. My face is dry and starting to flake if I'm not diligent with my Cetaphil. My very bones are hurting.
That in no way gives me a free pass to sleep in or pass on holding him. There have been 3 nights out of the past 7 that I just didn't go to bed. I stay awake, doing this or that in between feeding and changing him. I work out, which seems to help the fatigue of Lupus a little. Then I wait until 5 am or so and make some coffee and start the next day.
Can I maintain this? Hell no.
Do I like doing it? Again, no.
But it's happening. It's hard to make people understand the kind of tired that Lupus makes you. No matter how much sleep I get, I still feel like a zombie. Taking naps makes me feel worse, so I don't do it during the day. I can't. I can't take a 2 hour nap and wake up more tired and cranky, to boot. I have a baby to take care of. I have a 34 day-old life that is relying on me, and it's hard enough. I can't do it if I feel like shit.
I'm going back to work in July. I'm happy to be going back, I love my job. I miss it and the people that go along with it. I knew it would be a hard choice, and that I'd feel conflicted about it. Liam will be in childcare while I'm at work, which I know is fine. Lots of mothers do this. Lots of 2 income families as well as single parents. I know that it's okay.
So why do I feel like such an asshole?
I was asked by someone, "Oh, aren't you afraid that he'll bond with his caregivers and not you? Aren't you afraid that you'll miss so many firsts and milestones?"
What the fuck.
Yes, those thoughts have entered my mind. No, they aren't pleasant. I love working, and I love my son. I know that he'll always know who his mommy is. I thoroughly believe that he deserves me at my best. I'm at my best when I'm happy, and while he makes me happy in a whole new way, working makes me happy too. He doesn't deserve some burnt out mother. There is nothing wrong with being a stay at home mother, but there's nothing wrong with being a working mother either. I don't work 12 hour days. I'll still be spending more time with him than his caregiver. It's still a tough pill to swallow. Once again, I stay up and cry about it. It hasn't happened yet and I sometimes feel like I'm going to abandon my son. Like I'm somehow choosing work over him, which simply is not the case. It's just not that black and white.
Having Liam has been the best thing I've ever done. I love him completely. I have never been so happy in my life. At the same time, I've never felt so down on myself. I've never been so critical of every choice I'm making. It's hard. It's really fucking hard. I'm so happy having a son, and so conflicted being a mother. Does that even make sense? It does in my head.
I'm doing well I think. I'm still getting things done around the house, I'm still taking care of myself. I take care of him, and I never waste a minute of time. People ask how I "do it all," and all I can think is "I gave up sleep and free time." Ha.
Motherhood is no joke. It messes with your head and fills you with love and fear and anxiety and joy.
Rollercoaster indeed.
1 comment:
Welcome to Mommyhood - the constant fear that you're going to screw up your kid(s). I try to remind myself that if all else fails, I'm giving them great material for their autobiographies and something to amuse their therapists someday. No two families are exactly alike and you do whatever works for you. There are days when I desperately wish that I had an outside job! And then I remember that with 3, I'm probably approaching or past the threshold where I'd end up paying MORE in daycare than I'd bring home working in this town. :-P
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