New Mommy Confessions - Part 7

Can we get serious for a minute?  When I asked my favorite new mom bloggers for material for this New Mommy Confessions series I was fully expecting to receive funny lighthearted confessions, but I was absolutely thrilled to get some serious ones too.  Ones that really made me think and ones that really struck a chord with some deep emotions.  This whole Mommy gig is tough.  And it's hard sometimes being a blogger and putting it out there for the world to read - especially when people can be so cruel and judgmental.    But being a blogger also means that we can share our experiences with others who are going through similar situations.  I can't tell you how many times I've read something on a blog that made me break down in tears because I thought I was the only one going through that experience or dealing with those feelings - especially when we were trying desperately to get pregnant.  Blogging is a way to connect, to share, to walk in someone else's footsteps.  It's amazing.  

That's why I am so happy so be able to share some slightly more serious confessions with you today.  Because I know these ladies are not alone in their feelings/experiences.  And if you're going through some of these things, I hope you reach out to them and share your story.  I know full well how important it is to not feel alone in your struggles.  I hope these confessions do just that.

Katie from I Used to Vacation

A few days ago, when I arrived at Avery's daycare to pick her up after work, I found her holding court with three baby boys. She was "screaming" at them and waving her arms up and down while they grinned goofily at her. And then, I had an out-of-body experience. Life fast-forwarded approximately sixteen years right before my very eyes, and I instantly saw teenager Avery (albeit a blushing, demure teenager Avery because that's what her mama pretends she will be instead of an outgoing, flirtatious teenager Avery) entertaining the advances of a bevy of boyfriends. For a few seconds, this new mama freaked. Freaked the heck out. And, then I came back to earth and realized my sweet baby girl is not even eight months old. We have a ways to go. I should stop being a crazy person.

The fact is, it's hard to be present, in the moment, when you have this little life rapidly evolving and advancing before your very eyes each and every day. It's easy to become enraptured with the future. Babies change so very quickly, you know? I often find myself wondering if her hair will be curly, or if she'll be left-handed. Will she take dance classes like her mommy, or will she play soccer like her daddy? Will she loves books as much as her parents do? And then... Where will she go to college? Will she study abroad?? Who will she marry??

My confession is this: I have to remind myself quite often to slow down and not wish it all away. So, when I feel like she's growing up too fast, I do something slightly insane like listen to her delicate, rhythmic breathing on the baby monitor. Or, I cry tears into her bathwater.

Thank God wine exists.

My husband said something quite profound to me immediately after I had Aves: "I've never felt so mortal in my life." These stupid decisions that we make, these feelings of invincibility...they are long gone. There's no more climbing on too-tall ladders, there's too much anxiety driving home in the wee hours of the morning. After becoming parents for the first time, we quickly realized that taking care of the babe is our number one priority, but taking care of ourselves is a quick second. Although I often battle with my proclivity to jump ahead to the future, this unknown expanse of time does demand a certain amount of attention. My mission is to stick around. To be here for Avery.

About a month ago, I felt a lump in my breast. I noticed it at work, right before my sophomores walked in after lunch. I couldn't get it together for our grammar lesson; a sea of overreactions washed over me. I had to leave my classroom. I couldn't breathe. I went into a restroom stall and broke down. The only thing I could think of was Avery. She's got to have her mama in her life.

I made an appointment with my doctor that very day. There's no more putting off odd symptoms or chronic aches and pains. I was able to get in to see him in a week. That same day, just to be sure, he sent me to have a mammogram and an ultrasound. My results were fine. And, just like that, my panic was remedied. It was probably a cyst.

I knew that I had let my imagination run away from me, but I wasn't ashamed.

After all, teenager Avery might need me after one of those grown-up baby boys breaks her heart, and I've got to be there to mend the pieces. 

Jenn from Muzzily Muddled

My confession is that I almost hated being a mom for the first few weeks.  I didn't actually hate it.   But I was close to hating it.  I loved my little boy.  But I didn't love being a mom.  

First, I was having serious culture shock.  I felt like I lost my identity, that I was no longer myself.  That feeling faded a little bit each day, and I know now that I am definitely still me, but better, because my son makes me better, and being a mom makes me better.  

Second, I was struggling with a lot of guilt over that culture shock.  As someone who spent over two years trying to get pregnant, including five IUI cycles and two IVF cycles, I felt like I should be thrilled down to my toes to be a mom.  The fact that I wasn't thrilled lead me to be wracked with guilt.  How could we possibly have gone through everything that we did and me be anything but giddy with glee?  I know full well how many women out there would have traded places with me in a heartbeat.  So I beat myself up over the feelings I was having, and that made the culture shock that much harder to cope with.  

Finally, I was in pain.  PAIN.  But I refused to acknowledge how bad it was, mostly out of stubbornness.  I was 100% on board with breastfeeding.  But it hurt SO much every time little J wanted to nurse.  Since he always wanted to nurse, it always hurt.  After several visits with lactation consultants and a wonderful doctor, I learned that not only did J have tongue tie and lip tie, but I have a medical condition that causes severe pain at the nipple.  No wonder I was sobbing most nights when all he wanted to do was nurse instead of go to bed!  Thankfully, we got the care we needed and I was eventually able to nurse him without pain.

Looking back, I think it's no wonder I wasn't very happy as a new mom.  But it got better every day.  The culture shock faded, the guilt subsided, the pain mostly went away.  Everything became sunshine and roses.  Well, sunshine, roses, and poop.  He is a baby, after all.  But he's my baby, and I can finally say that I absolutely LOVE being a mom!!

JGT (friend of mine who wanted to share a confession)

My second child is HARD. On the good days, I love her so fiercely, I think because I know every smile is so hard-won. But on the bad days.... Deep down inside, I wish I had never had her. I know that's blasphemous, and I only admit it here because it's not my blog and she'll never read it nor will anyone else in her life. But I look at my shiny sweet two-year-old, and my screaming, impossible, perpetually awake six-month-old, and I think how much better life would be if we hadn't decided to have another child. 

I know it will get better, and I do my absolute best to treat her with love and tenderness despite how I feel, and I admit there's probably a touch of post-partum depression mixed in there too. But I say this for anyone else who has felt this way. It's okay. You CAN feel this way and go on to have a wonderful, rich, loving, and fulfilling relationship with your child. People do it all the time - more frequently than you'd ever expect.

Catch up on the rest of the New Mommy Confessions series:

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6