What with Mother's Day and all, I've been reflecting on...motherhood (shocker). Allow me to get real:
Five months ago, I was not enjoying having two. My sweet, happy girl had turned into a whining, fit-throwing mess. We were both crying daily over my inability to hold her due to my tender, stitched-up abdomen and burning, bursting bust (thank you milk overproduction). My eyes felt as if they were filled with sand and my head was throbbing due to lack of sleep. I'm guessing her shortage of patience was a direct correlation to my own - the combination of which felt brutal. I was begging Husband to take another week (or year) off of work and declaring that I'd never want to do this again. I spent the days wandering around the house in a fog, feeding babies, washing spit rags, and wishing for the days that I had had energy and enthusiasm to share with my not-quite-two-year-old.
I've read that sleeping helps cement memories. It makes sense, then, that I can hardly remember that first month with two. The only thing that comes to mind is that we strung Christmas lights in every room. It was our fourth Christmas together, but the first that we bothered to buy any decorations. I needed to see wonder on my little girl's face. I needed to have something cheery for myself to focus on when screaming babies and an aching body flooded my senses and pushed me to my limit.
Before she came, I was confident that I'd bond with the helpless, adorable new baby as easily as I had the first time around. I enjoy being needed but my almost two-year-old was needing me less and less each day (if there is a cure for the "need to be needed" personality type, it's probably motherhood). I was also excited to bond with my second-born as she was born to a mom and dad who are both seconds and 3 out of 4 grandparents who are also seconds! So, not even considering that it might be difficult for myself, my main focus was preparing Big Sister for the change.
Maybe the c-section was to blame (which I wrote about here, but didn't post on Facebook - meaning only 2 of you read about it), but Big Sister did a lot better with the bonding than I did. E loved her sister from the moment she saw her. She cried when the nurse took "her baby" away for some routine tests. From day 1, she asked to kiss, hug, or hold "her baby" almost hourly. I, on the other hand, dutifully cared for "Baby Sister" while assuring the both of us (mostly myself) that I loved her, liked her, wanted her - despite the havoc that having her around wreaked on our previously perfect little family. Sometimes love is more of a choice than a feeling. This was one of those times. Thankfully, time moved on, hormones regulated, bodies healed and got used to less sleep, and Mommy bonded with Baby too.
It's different the second time around. Your arms don't feel empty when someone holds your baby for more than 10 minutes because your arms have another [bigger] baby they're aching to hold (not to mention, a spouse). Or your arms are just plumb tired and aching to be empty. You don't let yourself snuggle your baby to sleep for the fun of it because you know that no one is going to survive unless she learns how to put herself to sleep. You don't run to her the second she starts whimpering, because you're busy helping Big Sister make it to the potty in time. It took a while for me to know and accept that these differences didn't mean I loved this baby any less. I just had to care for her...differently.
These days, I love having two. Big Sister still asks to see, hug, kiss, touch, smell, hold, feed, or play with her sister almost hourly (you can tell her vocabulary has increased). She's made great progress in learning to occupy herself, have patience, and share. If Little Sister could talk, I'm sure she'd be asking for her big sister too - the only person she smiles at more than Mommy is Sister. They entertain each other and their parents.
What felt like an unhealthy change in our family dynamic - with no one getting as much care and attention as they needed - now proves to have been healthy after all. We've found our new rhythm, learned to love more, and discovered we could give more and receive less. Maybe (just maybe!) I will be up for doing it again after all.
Maybe adding to your family is not what's stretching you right now. Maybe you're not being stretched at all. But if you are, hold on to the hope that you will come through it having learned valuable lessons and having been made stronger by relying in His strength.
Five months ago, I was not enjoying having two. My sweet, happy girl had turned into a whining, fit-throwing mess. We were both crying daily over my inability to hold her due to my tender, stitched-up abdomen and burning, bursting bust (thank you milk overproduction). My eyes felt as if they were filled with sand and my head was throbbing due to lack of sleep. I'm guessing her shortage of patience was a direct correlation to my own - the combination of which felt brutal. I was begging Husband to take another week (or year) off of work and declaring that I'd never want to do this again. I spent the days wandering around the house in a fog, feeding babies, washing spit rags, and wishing for the days that I had had energy and enthusiasm to share with my not-quite-two-year-old.
I've read that sleeping helps cement memories. It makes sense, then, that I can hardly remember that first month with two. The only thing that comes to mind is that we strung Christmas lights in every room. It was our fourth Christmas together, but the first that we bothered to buy any decorations. I needed to see wonder on my little girl's face. I needed to have something cheery for myself to focus on when screaming babies and an aching body flooded my senses and pushed me to my limit.
Before she came, I was confident that I'd bond with the helpless, adorable new baby as easily as I had the first time around. I enjoy being needed but my almost two-year-old was needing me less and less each day (if there is a cure for the "need to be needed" personality type, it's probably motherhood). I was also excited to bond with my second-born as she was born to a mom and dad who are both seconds and 3 out of 4 grandparents who are also seconds! So, not even considering that it might be difficult for myself, my main focus was preparing Big Sister for the change.
Maybe the c-section was to blame (which I wrote about here, but didn't post on Facebook - meaning only 2 of you read about it), but Big Sister did a lot better with the bonding than I did. E loved her sister from the moment she saw her. She cried when the nurse took "her baby" away for some routine tests. From day 1, she asked to kiss, hug, or hold "her baby" almost hourly. I, on the other hand, dutifully cared for "Baby Sister" while assuring the both of us (mostly myself) that I loved her, liked her, wanted her - despite the havoc that having her around wreaked on our previously perfect little family. Sometimes love is more of a choice than a feeling. This was one of those times. Thankfully, time moved on, hormones regulated, bodies healed and got used to less sleep, and Mommy bonded with Baby too.
It's different the second time around. Your arms don't feel empty when someone holds your baby for more than 10 minutes because your arms have another [bigger] baby they're aching to hold (not to mention, a spouse). Or your arms are just plumb tired and aching to be empty. You don't let yourself snuggle your baby to sleep for the fun of it because you know that no one is going to survive unless she learns how to put herself to sleep. You don't run to her the second she starts whimpering, because you're busy helping Big Sister make it to the potty in time. It took a while for me to know and accept that these differences didn't mean I loved this baby any less. I just had to care for her...differently.
These days, I love having two. Big Sister still asks to see, hug, kiss, touch, smell, hold, feed, or play with her sister almost hourly (you can tell her vocabulary has increased). She's made great progress in learning to occupy herself, have patience, and share. If Little Sister could talk, I'm sure she'd be asking for her big sister too - the only person she smiles at more than Mommy is Sister. They entertain each other and their parents.
What felt like an unhealthy change in our family dynamic - with no one getting as much care and attention as they needed - now proves to have been healthy after all. We've found our new rhythm, learned to love more, and discovered we could give more and receive less. Maybe (just maybe!) I will be up for doing it again after all.
Maybe adding to your family is not what's stretching you right now. Maybe you're not being stretched at all. But if you are, hold on to the hope that you will come through it having learned valuable lessons and having been made stronger by relying in His strength.
Wonderful thoughts!! Thanks for writing it down for a grandma to read who's going to watch her daughter in law go through this very soon!
ReplyDeleteYou're welcome! Another thing I would add is that I don't think there was anything anyone could have done to help me with the transition - I needed to be with the baby 24/7 (for bonding and feeding) and time with Big Sister was what I was missing so taking her away to give me a break was somewhat counter productive - although occasionally necessary because I desperately needed sleep.
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