As a first time mom, I am becoming more and more aware of the needs of my child. At first, there was a quiet desperation as I brought home a tiny human that solely depended upon me. When he cried, I cried (literally). When he smiled, my heart grew ten times its size. My life was turned upside down as a single person changed my life forever.
After almost 45 hours of labor, the visitors started pouring in. I was exhausted. Then, off to our house where we were left to fend for ourselves. Despite their best intentions, family made things so much worse. The constant visits and interruptions came during a time we just needed to bond. Not to mention, I never allowed myself time to heal. How could I with the demands of a newborn?
The days seemed to run together as sleep disappeared. I felt myself slipping away as I tried to juggle everything. I felt guilt sink in as I loved my son so much yet hated what my life had become. I was lost. I couldn't shower, eat, or sleep. My mind never stopped thinking-worrying. The passing judgments on my parenting choices and potential risks that others shared, only worsened matters. Fear creeped in.
My precious son screamed regularly, and there was absolutely nothing I could do to console him. I felt inadequate. Why wasn't anything working? All I ever wanted was to be a good mom, but I can't even make him happy. The crying worsened and in between the normal fussiness of a baby came the shriek that made my heart ache.
Nursing was awful. It wasn't just the pain of getting used to things, but it took over our entire lives. He wouldn't latch, he would wriggle too much, I couldn't hold him right, he wanted fed all the time, he would eat and immediately want more, he would make himself sick yet he would scream if I didn't cooperate, and I just couldn't get it. I found myself changing everything I ate (which wasn't difficult since I couldn't find time to eat during the day).
Those first weeks seemed endless-a blur. Trying to be a "good wife", I continued to push my needs aside. Then, when I voiced my pain to a sleep deprived/work driven husband, I hit a roadblock. I needed my husband. I resented him not wanting to hold him the second he walked in the door. All I wanted was a shower most days, but even that seemed like too much to ask for. I tried to adjust to the demanding lifestyle of a new mom by myself. I felt alone-misunderstood. I continued to become more and more exhausted. There was no time to catch up on rest.
Then, it happened.
I turned off the lights, turned on his "stars", played his lullabies, fed and swaddled him-and my world changed. I bounced around the room, paced back-and-forth, waltzed to the music, and sat down to rock him to sleep. I watched as his eyes slowly closed and felt his body calm down. Then, I kissed his cheek as he smiled back at me. In that moment I knew everything was going to be okay.
Somewhere between the endless crying, countless questions, doctor's visits, and feeling defeated there came a time when I began to allow myself grace. I stopped looking in the mirror and getting frustrated. I stopped caring if I had the same clothes on that I had on the day before (or before that). I allowed the laundry to pile up. And, when he cried I began to know what to do. I realized he had lonely cries in the night when he wanted to be held. When someone else had him, he cried for me. He had a cry for needing changed and one for hunger. I knew when his tummy hurt-when he needed his legs held, had to burp, or just needed to be consoled until he felt better. Then, I recognized his sleepy cry.
Rocking became "our thing". Within minutes, I could hold this precious boy and rock him to sleep. It was easy to think of the millions of things that needed to be done-to be tempted to try to put him in his crib. But, as those weeks turned into months I realized how fast time had slipped through my fingers. He began to outgrow his first clothes and my arms began to get tired. My baby boy was growing up.
How does it happen so fast? I had prepared myself for this and told myself to capture every day. I had thousands of pictures and my memory was strong. Still, as I flipped through pictures of those first days I saw how much he had changed. I began to forget what happened on which days. Then, one night I felt my heart ache as I realized I don't want to miss a thing. I felt God's whisper say, "Be available. Be present. Be still."
I realized I needed to be there-physically there for my son. And, when I'm with him I need to be "there". He needs to see my eyes, feel my touch, and hear my voice. Then, I need to be in the moment. Stop worrying about what is next or having a plan. Stop thinking about the things that aren't getting done. Instead, be there to hold his hands, listen to his laughter, and-in the quiet- thank God for every breath.
I no longer wanted to get through the day-I wanted to cherish it. Instead of wishing for him to fall asleep all day, I prayed that I could be who he needed me to be in the moment. I began to pay attention to his smiles, tiny voice, and if he needed to be held, I held him.
Before I knew it, he began to thrive. Our days began with so much joy as I woke him up each morning. Nursing got easier and we finally figured each other out. Routine started to develop and I gained more confidence in my abilities. He cried less and so did I. He began smiling more, playing, and laughing. We would end the day with the same smiles we started with. Each day was better than the last.
As I hold my "almost 10 week old" I am in awe of how much love I can have. My heart feels so much fuller because of him. I worry about making the world better because of him. I can't kiss him enough. He made me a better person. For all those longing for motherhood-never give up. For the new moms struggling to get through each day-you are enough. And for anyone that is rushing through life and wondering where it went-slow down. Our families are far too precious not to give them our best.
There isn't a day that goes by that I don't thank the Lord for Dash.
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