Chronicles Pt. 2

I want to thank everyone who commented on my last posting for your reassurance and encouragement. For days afterward I was uncertain about my decision to share my frustrations with the blogosphere. It's always scary to draw attention to pieces of yourself that are already vulnerable. But through it I have found some very helpful resources, mainly a lot of other mothers who have gone through what I have and lived to tell about it, and perhaps even more impressive, lived to have more children.

I feel like the frustrations and discomfort of pregnancy are widely known and generally accepted in public conversation, but I didn't hear a lot about the struggles after the baby. Yes, I heard about sleep deprivation, but not a lot about the self-doubt, about the sometimes unwanted, unhelpful advice or comments from strangers and well-meaning loved ones alike that make you feel even more insecure, about the ping-ponging, daily crazy highs and crazy lows of raising a baby that leave one feeling, well, crazy. I can tell you, natural childbirth was MUCH easier than some of the challenges that have ensued since. Labor had a foreseeable end.

Everybody has their bag. Some people have miserable pregnancies, some people have horrifying labors, some people have a terrible time with breastfeeding. I breezed past all of those things and wound up with a baby who won't sleep. Funny, because I read every book I could get my hands on on the subject before the baby arrived, and two or three since he's gotten here and none of them can give me an answer as to why my adorable, beautiful baby resists the one thing I know will make him feel better. It is a battle every single day, one that includes A LOT of prayer, a lot of coaxing, and a lot of patience, which thing is the hardest. And if the baby doesn't sleep, I don't sleep, and of course, that does not a happy, patient mommy make, which I know is what he needs most.

We're gonna make it, we're all gonna be fine. I am already amazed at some of the days I've survived and the living room pillows that remain intact despite my throwing and punching them when I just can't take the crying. My husband is incredibly supportive and hands-on, even through the worst of it. And even he, the one with "the patience of Job," as my dad says (which after seven years of marriage, I can also attest to) reaches his limit with Jasper's crying. I don't wish it for him either, but boy is it validating! We don't live near a lot of close family, and Jacob is often gone before the baby wakes and home once he's in bed, so dealing with it on a daily basis can be very difficult and very lonely. Even he concedes that point.

I am not writing this to complain. I think if my sharing can help someone else feel not so alone in similar struggles, it's worth doing so. I really felt a sense of comfort and understanding in reading the experiences of others who were brave enough to share what they'd gone through. Interestingly enough, my husband said today that every single father friend he knows has checked in with him about post-partum. The dads are talking about it, but the moms aren't.

Even given all of the challenges, I would make this decision to be a mom over and over again. And I would choose my sweet baby Jasper to be my son every time. Somehow there always seems to be a silver lining, just when you think you'll succumb to the storm. His wonderful dimple, his smiles at the end of every feeding, his newborn hair that's falling out in the most comical pattern and the new bright blond fuzz that's taking its place--he is still, hands down, the best thing that's ever happened to us. I feel like Heavenly Father, through these challenges, wants to make it very clear to me that I need His help in raising this child of his. I can't do it alone. And I'm not supposed to try. Somehow he always sends a phone call from a family member, a visit from a friend, a message, a meal, a NAP! when I most need them and I am continually amazed by their timeliness. I believe in being a mom. I believe in having children, hard as it is, sometimes. I believe this baby of mine needs me even when I'm convinced he'd prefer every other mom to me. There's a reason he is mine and I am his, and that we are each who we are. And I love him with all my flawed, imperfect heart.