The Truth About Your Days As a Brand New Mom

Let me start out by saying that this article is not for everyone.

If you looked at your baby the moment after she was born and thought to yourself, "This is love and I adore this child more than anyone I've ever adored before," well ... this article isn't for you.

If you lived your first weeks as a new mommy in a haze of happiness, this isn't for you.

If you slipped back into your pre-baby jeans before waltzing out of the hospital two days after delivering, baby in arm and beatific smile on your face, THIS ISN'T FOR YOU.

This article is for you other mommies.

You know, the ones who bawled their way through the first two weeks of caring for a new child that you could've sworn you were totally ready for.

The ones who nod with a dazed expression on their face when people say things like, "Isn't being a mom the best thing ever? Isn't it totally impossible to imagine your life without your new little man in it?"

Because here's the thing: 

That was me.

After I had my first child, I lay there in my hospital bed, catheter in, feeling like I had just been hit by a semi.

Nobody prepared me for what waking up every 2 hours would feel like. (Let me clue you in - it's a slow, painful descent into insanity.)

I wasn't ready for the pain of attempting to breastfeed, for the feeling of being so much ... bigger than I used to be.

Everyone told me I would fit right back into my pre-baby clothes, because I was so tiny and all baby.

And NOONE, NOONE warned me that I might become depressed.

I'm not talking about being a little bummed because I was tired or overwhelmed. 

I'm talking about being deeply depressed.

I'm talking about

Postpartum Depression.

The thing is that everyone gave me the fantasy version of motherhood.

I heard things like:

-You'll instantly fall in love with your new baby.

-It's so amazing and you'll never be able to imagine what your life would be like without them once they're in your arms.

-Motherhood is instinctual and you'll just "know what to do" when the time comes.

-The weight will just melt right off.

The problem is that this isn't necessarily true.

I love my children more than anything. But when both of them were born, I spent the first few months in a dazed state, trying to cope.

I didn't magically know what to do. If there's one thing I've learned, it's that motherhood is a learning process, a lesson in trial and error.

Despite being so tiny, I didn't fit back into my pre-pregnancy clothes for a long time. And I never fit back into some of them.

Motherhood wasn't amazing for me at first. I experienced intense hormone withdrawals and severe depression as I struggled to understand what my life had become with the presence of a child, what my body looked like with the new addition of loose skin and stretch marks.

And most importantly ...

I didn't instantly fall in love with my baby.

I know.

What a terrifying concept.

Here was this little person that screamed all the time and needed me, and it was my job to magically figure out what those needs were.

I was sleep-deprived, hormone-deprived, and barely functioning.

I remember looking at my baby and thinking, "Why did I do this? And how do I make it stop?"

There was no magic moment where the Hallelujah Chorus began playing and I looked down upon my babe in utter wonder, unless you're counting the times when she fell asleep in my arms and I spent a brief moment thanking God for a break from it all before zonking out underneath her.

But lest you think I'm trying to scare you off from motherhood, let me give you the good news:

IT GETS BETTER.

Your baby starts sleeping more.

You eventually get back into a jean size you can live with.

The post-delivery pain goes away.

You adjust to the lack of hormones.

As your baby grows, you DO form that essential bond. You get to a point where you look at that precious bundle of joy and think, "I can't imagine my life without this child. I love her so much."

It just doesn't always happen at first sight.

I wish I'd honestly believed that what I was going through was normal, instead of convincing myself that something was wrong with me.

I am a great mother.

But postpartum depression had me thinking I was somehow a failure.

So if you're like me, struggling to make it through the day and wondering what you got yourself into and when things will get better, trust me when I say that motherhood is an adjustment.

It takes time to get used to a new baby. Give yourself that time.

Look into getting on some meds temporarily, until the hormone crash subsides.

And be patient with yourself.

Love and Blessings as you discover the joy of the journey of motherhood,

This 

Blogging 

Mommy

Mommy Knows Best ...

There are so many people out there today that want to give unsolicited advice on how to parent. You can't enter a supermarket without the lady behind you telling what you're doing wrong, or go to a family get-together without someone reminding you of "how they did things" with their own kids.

I've gotten to a point in my own journey as a parent where I finally have the strength to stand up and say it ...

MOMMY KNOWS BEST!

Nobody knows their child better than that child's mother (or father.) And NOBODY, I repeat NOBODY has the right to dictate how a child should be raised other than that parent.

Parenting is a beautiful journey of trial, error, prayer, tears, and rejoicing. And there are certainly times where you'll find yourself turning to a close friend, or maybe even your own mother, and saying, "What would you do?"

But there is a huge difference between asking for advice, and having unsolicited advice cheerfully shoved down your throat ... the former is a gift, a beautiful exchange of wisdom and love, and the latter ... well it's nothing more than

CRITICISM.

When Aunt Martha comes in and tells you, "You don't let your girls play with makeup? My girls were allowed to wear their little Disney makeup by the time they were 8. It's just innocent fun," what she's really doing is undermining your right to make decisions for your own child.

And worst of all, it's Aunt Martha, who's watched you grow up and even changed your diapers. You can't just turn around and say what you REALLY want to say, which is, 

"Well, Aunt Martha, isn't that so nice. But I want better things for my daughters than to learn at a young age that their physical beauty is the most important thing about them, or that they're nothing but sex symbols at 5 years of age."

Yea. That's a big no-no, regardless of how tempting that comeback may seem.

The truth is that often times, it is absolutely the people closest to us that so definitively undermine our authority as parents, because they feel comfortable with us. They aren't as afraid of pushing the boundaries and they aren't as careful to respect your authority, because of that comfort.

In a perfect world, you could calmly confront the people in your life who are trying to do your parenting for you, and they'd apologize and back off. Afterwards, you'd relax back on the chaise lounge you were sitting on in your backyard, surrounded by mosquito netting and the fragrant smell of honeysuckle and roses as little Jackson smiles up at you from the book he's reading to you, saying, "Mommy, you're so smart. I'm so grateful to have you as my mom."

We can all dream, ladies.

In reality, when you try to nicely confront your mother about how you know she loves Mary Sue but she just can't give her panties from Victoria's Secret, because no matter how "cute" those little lace-fringed boy-shorts are, they are way too sexual for your 13 year old daughter, your mother isn't going to understand. She's going to get defensive, offended, and argue with you.

And when that inevitable encounter happens, I really hope you take a page from a very difficult lesson I've learned ... oh heck, that I'm STILL learning. When it happens, I hope you reinforce those parental boundaries with the following statement:

"Mommy knows best. I'm the mommy, and I know best what is appropriate for my children. I appreciate the thought, but I'm not okay with... (my daughter wearing sexier panties than I do now at 13 years old.")

Feel free to insert in the blank whatever inappropriate gift you're protesting for whatever child you're trying your darndest to protect or raise into a respectful, responsible human being.

Trust me when I say that if you don't start enforcing that particular present rule early on, you'll find yourself stressed out, frustrated, and feeling resentful of Grammy for buying Jimmy a ridiculously expensive pair of Adidas you insisted no 7 year old boy needed, or for buying Sheila that teeny tiny mini skirt she'd been begging YOU to get her for months.

As much as the loved ones in your child's life want to spoil them, spoiling should not come at the expense of your rules. Gosh, when I think of all the prayers, tears, and thought that have gone into the rules I've created for my children, I feel an overwhelming certainty of God's hand in my parenting. 

And woe awaits anyone who tries to get in the way of that.

So remember ... when unsolicited advice-givers start banging down your door with more persistence than those pesky magazine salespeople during the summer months ...

MOMMY. KNOWS. BEST.

Prayers for you and your journeys of motherhood,

This Blogging Mommy