7.19.2009
7.15.2009
I turn my back for ONE second
and catch my baby REDCAKE-HANDED!
(She's a girl after her mother's heart.)
7.10.2009
Thanks to some sweet potatos, Claire slept through the night for the first time last night-- with only two trips to give her back her paci. It was kind of sad, a sign that she was growing up and maybe didn't need us so much. I must admit, Chris has been the one to wake up with her in the middle of the night since pretty much week three, when I threw in the bfing towel and switched to pumping. He is amazing.
I am usually not one to post such personal business on my blog, but I keep feeling the "prompting" for lack of a better word, to write about this. Perhaps there is someone (out of the five of you who read this) that need to hear what I have to say, instead of the thousand of blogs that say, "I just love being a mom, I know it's my divine calling, it's so natural, I can't imagine life before baby," etc. If not, then I will just make the vast majority of you extremely uncomfortable, which is just fine too. :)
Like most women, I thought the first few weeks after giving birth were destined to be overwhelming and maybe even a little bit saddening. In one moment of over the top ridiculousness, I cried when I saw Kathryn pregnant (i think Claire was a week old) because I "missed having her all to myself." But things didn't get better like I thought they would. Before long I was a crazy, crying, disaster, terrified of this ten pound creature. I loved Claire-- but the smallest peep would send me into a frantic panic. Knowing that this was something I would be prone to, I had promised myself during my pregnancy that at the first sign of any depression, I would do something about it. Of course I didn't. I thought alot of it was just disappointment over failing to breastfed and normal maternal anxieties. I really started to believe that one child was just fine for me-- I didn't see how I could go through it all again. Finally, for the sake of my husband, my baby, and myself... I got on medication. And let me tell you...
Before, I dreaded when Claire would awake because I didn't know what to do with her. I was so uncomfortable in my position as her mother. Now, I can't wait till I hear her squeak! I run in to her room, she smiles and kicks her feet, then we cuddle in bed and sleep for another hour.. or two... or three... I spend all my days on the floor, making her smile, giggle and laugh. I'm still not very productive, but I'm a lot more so.
Of course I think a lot of this just comes with time. Claire is more responsive now, which is more gratifying. I've kind of "figured" her out, and she rarely cries. I know I still have a long way to go. Any mother will have her bad days and her good. But I beg you, if you are feeling the same, do something about it. Instead of telling Chris I don't think I can have any more kids (which was breaking his heart) I can't wait till Claire is old enough for us to have more. He just laughs at me, a mixture of "you're crazy" and relief. It's hard, but it is so much fun. There really is nothing better.
I am usually not one to post such personal business on my blog, but I keep feeling the "prompting" for lack of a better word, to write about this. Perhaps there is someone (out of the five of you who read this) that need to hear what I have to say, instead of the thousand of blogs that say, "I just love being a mom, I know it's my divine calling, it's so natural, I can't imagine life before baby," etc. If not, then I will just make the vast majority of you extremely uncomfortable, which is just fine too. :)
Like most women, I thought the first few weeks after giving birth were destined to be overwhelming and maybe even a little bit saddening. In one moment of over the top ridiculousness, I cried when I saw Kathryn pregnant (i think Claire was a week old) because I "missed having her all to myself." But things didn't get better like I thought they would. Before long I was a crazy, crying, disaster, terrified of this ten pound creature. I loved Claire-- but the smallest peep would send me into a frantic panic. Knowing that this was something I would be prone to, I had promised myself during my pregnancy that at the first sign of any depression, I would do something about it. Of course I didn't. I thought alot of it was just disappointment over failing to breastfed and normal maternal anxieties. I really started to believe that one child was just fine for me-- I didn't see how I could go through it all again. Finally, for the sake of my husband, my baby, and myself... I got on medication. And let me tell you...
Before, I dreaded when Claire would awake because I didn't know what to do with her. I was so uncomfortable in my position as her mother. Now, I can't wait till I hear her squeak! I run in to her room, she smiles and kicks her feet, then we cuddle in bed and sleep for another hour.. or two... or three... I spend all my days on the floor, making her smile, giggle and laugh. I'm still not very productive, but I'm a lot more so.
Of course I think a lot of this just comes with time. Claire is more responsive now, which is more gratifying. I've kind of "figured" her out, and she rarely cries. I know I still have a long way to go. Any mother will have her bad days and her good. But I beg you, if you are feeling the same, do something about it. Instead of telling Chris I don't think I can have any more kids (which was breaking his heart) I can't wait till Claire is old enough for us to have more. He just laughs at me, a mixture of "you're crazy" and relief. It's hard, but it is so much fun. There really is nothing better.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)