Being a New Mom

No one will probably visit since I haven't written in about seven months. Oops! Well, I have a good reason.

I am a mom.

I love it.

My son is a month old as of yesterday.

Here's my thoughts on motherhood:

My life is completely different now. I wake up at 4 am but sit in my PJs until about 1 in the afternoon. I go to bed at 9:30 on a late night. I watch lots of daytime TV, clean the house and of course, attend to Karsten's every whim.

He has a head cold right now. He's "snorty". I have a humidifier on in the living room and one in his room. He has to sleep sitting up (reclined a little bit). I use that blue nose sucker thing to suck his boogers out of his head for him since he can't blow his own nose yet.

Of course, since he is my first child, I had to rush him to the doctor yesterday morning and make sure he didn't have the dreaded "RSV". If you are not a mom of a newborn recently, you probably don't know what "RSV" is. It is not when you are supposed to call to tell a hostess that you will be attending the party. It is when babies get a cold in their lungs. Then they have to go to the hospital.

Jeremy was so concerned about Karsten on Monday night and the dreaded "RSV" that he stayed up and literally watched Karsten until 4 o'clock in the morning to make sure he wasn't having any problems breathing. I took over after that but fell asleep at about 7 in the morning. I am not as good of a parent, I guess.

So what's this motherhood all about besides spit up, dirty diapers, crying and a cute face? It's hard to describe. As much of a challenge and a drastic change as motherhood is, it is completely rewarding for reasons unexplainable. It's the moments when you put your child on the changing table to change yet another poopy diaper and you look at him and your heart melts. It's the little expressions the child has and the way you can read their minds (after a few weeks).

Sometimes at 2:30 in the morning when they are so squirmy they have stuck their foot in the dirtiest part of the diaper once again and you can't fasten the clean one on them because of their excessive movement and all the while they are crying that you try to figure out why you don't just give up and maybe slap them a few times. But there is something protective and patient in a parent's love. As annoying as the loudest scream directly in your ear may be, you just think, "Oh how cute", or "Poor kid". There are only a few moments for self-pity in parenthood and they can't last long.

I don't know why I am writing this except to explain to my former self that she was right- parenthood isn't fun. But even more than that, my former self (who is quickly fading into oblivion) should know that it is all more than worth it. I am already a better person.

The first two weeks were the hardest. I couldn't go grocery shopping, I could hardly walk, I didn't have any extra time to go online, play games, or cook. It was always a choice in my spare moments to take a shower, eat or sleep. If I chose to eat, I would wolf down my food as fast as possible because either I wanted to finish before Karsten woke up again or the time I spent eating was cutting into my precious sleep time. I was so worn down during that time that I would make really stupid mistakes like forgetting to take that center strip off of my pad so the wings could fold down and off I would go with myself and a little bit later I would have a mess. And I didn't even commit that error just once but at least three times.

Of course, there were the crying jags which for me always seemed to happen right about sunset. I would cry because I was sleepy, hungry, wanted to spend time with Jeremy but too tired to carry on a conversation, I was in pain, Karsten woke up again, I spilled water or whatever. My emotional ability to cope was at an all time low.

And yet, Karsten was so small (at 10 pounds) and he didn't really cry but made these squeaking nosies so I called him Squeaker. After the second week, he started yelling and screaming and Squeaker is a thing of the distant past. He is now a month old and 13 pounds of beautiful. Even being sick, he is a really good baby. Now I even get out to go grocery shopping or travel with him to my parent's house in Prescott. It is all very exciting. I can answer the phone, check email and have visitors over without stressing myself out. It's like getting my life back from a short but unforgettable incarceration.

I suppose this is a dim view of motherhood. It's not for the selfish or faint of heart. Those people turn out lost and broken children. Yet if you can give all of yourself without bitterness it truly is the most amazing thing you could ever do.