Reading Linda's post today got me thinking about my baby blues, and how I thought they would never end. My blues seemed to drag on and on. I think they only hung around for about 6 weeks, but it seemed forever at the time.
I tell all of my expecting friends that there is a difference in having and baby and having a baby. When you are pregnant, everything seems surreal. You have these wonderful fantasies about how life with baby will be. You just know that your husband will do half of the work, you will look beautiful and your baby will be perfect. Happily ever after, right?
Then the baby is born.
The first couple of days are great (if you happen to have a "normal" birth). There are nurses helping you 24/7 and meals are delivered to your bedside. Your husband is a rock, running about getting anything you desire. Everyone who stops in tells you how cute your child is (and you know they aren't just saying it, and they don't just say that to all the patients...wink, wink). Then your doctor breezes in, tells you that you all look great and you can go home!
Then you get home.
As soon as your mother goes home (if you are so lucky to have her help the first few days), all hell breaks loose. The house is a mess. You are a mess. The baby won't stop crying. Hubby went back to work. Your MIL stops by to tell you how everything you are doing is wrong. And trying to keep up on that damn feeding/urinating/defecating chart is like doing advanced trigonometry when you really, really suck at math. On the days you are brave enough to venture past your front yard, there is petrified spit-up on your blouse and your hair doesn't need holding gel with the amount of grease in it. Yet, when other women ask you how it is to be a mom, you grit your teeth and answer, "great! I'm loving every minute of it." Heaven forbid you actually tell the truth. They might take your parental rights away.
But, honestly, it is worth it. Looking back, I wouldn't change a single second. How does that saying go? That which doesn't kill you, only makes you stronger. Amen, sister, amen.
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2 comments:
SIX weeks? Uhhh...I think I may have killed myself by then! I thought one week was torture.
But, you are absolutely right about the killing us and making us stronger. Although, you must be so much stronger than me to last all six weeks without killing yourself.
Oh, and what a beautiful baby you do have, I am not just saying that!
OK, I have one for your to file under the category of "perfect timing."
My wife had our baby daughter, her mom was around to help out, I took a week off of work, bla bla bla, life is beautiful.
Finally Monday morning arrives, and I'm off to work. At the place where we lived at the time, it took me a couple of minutes to get to my car. Right as I got to my car, we had an earthquake (I live in Southern California).
I ran back to the house to find my wife, holding the baby, standing in the front doorway.
Talk about a bad situation. But it was a small earthquake, with no damage...
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