I wrote this several months ago. It's become a point of reference to see where I was and where I am now. I'll write more about my journey through postpartum depression and anxiety - where I am today and what the journey has meant to me.
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Friends, can I just say it? Mothering is hard. In an instant (well, after several hours of intense labor…), everything changes. I’ve known myself for 26 years. All of a sudden, I have a new identity – Mom. Who is this person called mom? She’s someone unfamiliar to me. She doesn’t feel like me. She even has a different body than the one I knew! I can feel her potential, who she might become, but it’s awfully scary looking at who she is right now and fitting together the pieces of who I knew as myself and my new identity as mom.
My son is two and a half months old. I’ve already forgotten how many weeks that is. I used to know exactly. Now I just say two and a half months. Days run into weeks which run into months, and suddenly I look back at the pictures from his birth and realize he’s grown. I have a feeling this is how I’m going to look back on his childhood in twenty years, and wonder what happened to the little boy in my arms today.
I wasn’t prepared for becoming Mom. How can you? I knew I wouldn’t sleep. I knew he would cry. I knew my marriage would change. I didn’t know that it would feel like my life was shattered into a million pieces which I am only just now beginning to put back together.
Two nights ago Little A slept through until 4am. Joy! I was hoping he would do it again last night, but no, at 1:45am he woke me. I’m grateful, in a way, because at night I am able to nurse him. I’ve struggled with supply issues with breastfeeding, so the longer I keep these night feedings the longer I hope my milk will last. We’ve supplemented with formula since Little A was a week old. He just wasn’t gaining well and our pediatrician felt he needed the extra calories. Let me tell you, I was really, really disappointed. To the point where I lost the joy of having a sweet healthy baby and focused only on the fact that my body wasn’t able to provide for him. Now I am so very grateful that we had formula available for use when we needed it, but I struggled to keep the tears from flowing in that clinical room as I felt I was being told I wasn’t good enough for my baby.
Many wise people came alongside to encourage and remind me that I am feeding my baby, whether by breast or bottle. I know this now. I’ve enjoyed watching my son grow. I think I grieved breastfeeding because it was an expectation that was let down. I thought that even if I struggled at first, it would eventually click and everything would be fine in the end. Now I know that it’s really common to not have success with breastfeeding. What’s important is that your child is growing and healthy.
I feed Little A again at 3:45am, crawl back in bed, and although it seems I just shut my eyes, he wakes up again at 5:45 looking for food. This time, after eating, he doesn’t really want to go back to sleep. I keep the lights off during night feedings and only turn them on when I’m ready to wake up. Little A has learned that when the lights are on he gets to play, so when you turn the lights on, even if he is mid fuss, he squints, stretches, and gets a big grin on his face. Morning is one of my favorite parts of the day because Little A is always super smiley. I feed him, change him, then we snuggle and do some tummy time. Last week he rolled over for the first time! Ninety minutes from when he woke up, almost to the dot, he lets me know he’s sleepy. I swaddle him up and he takes his first nap for the day. I pump, get dressed, and grab some breakfast (usually oatmeal – it’s good for milk supply) while he sleeps.
He wakes up again around 8am, this time for 1.5-2hrs. On Monday and Tuesday, I work at a pregnancy center in the mornings and he either comes with me or stays with Oma. On Thursday, we go together to a MOTs (Mothers of Tots) meeting at church. I enjoy MOTs because it really helps to meet with other moms who are in the same phase of life. They get it when I’m running late because of a diaper blow out just when I thought I had everything ready to go. They understand when I simply can’t keep up a conversation because my brain is as foggy as a London morning. They are my support.
In the afternoons, Little A has settled into a routine of taking a long nap around 1:30pm. He’ll sleep for 2-3 hours. I ought to use this time for cleaning house, but more often I take a nap, read a book, or catch up on my favorite blogs. Toward the end of Little A’s nap I begin prepping dinner. Cooking is my stress relief. Chopping up the veggies for a stir-fry or serving a loaf of fresh baked bread for dinner makes me feel like I’ve done something in a day. A good dinner feels like a gift.
Late afternoons are hard for me. I’m tired and some days are particularly exhausting if Little A’s had a rough day. By the time my hubby gets home from work I am beat. For a few weeks, I was having some really dark thought patterns that weren’t healthy. I felt very disconnected from my baby. Everyone would tell me that his eyes followed me around the room and his face lit up when I was in sight, but I just couldn’t see it. I was struggling. I felt very defeated and callous. My faith was struggling as well. I felt like I couldn’t understand who God is, even though I’ve followed Jesus for many years. Praying felt flat, as though God wasn’t listening or interested in me. I was holding a baby over which I prayed for nine months while carrying him in my womb, and I felt like I couldn’t love him.
There are still days where I still struggle to see beauty and feel love. Love for my sweet men (big and small), love for Jesus, love for myself. Now, each day, I am asking God's Spirit to open my eyes to see His beauty all around me. One day last week, I found myself looking forward to Little A waking from his nap because my life is more fun when he’s in it. I saw beauty in the evening sunlight streaming through a cluster of flowers my hubby picked for me. I felt confident in my skinny (maternity) jeans and boots as the air turns crisp for fall. These are the small gifts in my life that I am clinging to and marking as stones of remembrance as I walk through this journey of becoming Mom.
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How has the journey of 'becoming mom' affected you?
What surprised you about having children?
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Friends, can I just say it? Mothering is hard. In an instant (well, after several hours of intense labor…), everything changes. I’ve known myself for 26 years. All of a sudden, I have a new identity – Mom. Who is this person called mom? She’s someone unfamiliar to me. She doesn’t feel like me. She even has a different body than the one I knew! I can feel her potential, who she might become, but it’s awfully scary looking at who she is right now and fitting together the pieces of who I knew as myself and my new identity as mom.
My son is two and a half months old. I’ve already forgotten how many weeks that is. I used to know exactly. Now I just say two and a half months. Days run into weeks which run into months, and suddenly I look back at the pictures from his birth and realize he’s grown. I have a feeling this is how I’m going to look back on his childhood in twenty years, and wonder what happened to the little boy in my arms today.
I wasn’t prepared for becoming Mom. How can you? I knew I wouldn’t sleep. I knew he would cry. I knew my marriage would change. I didn’t know that it would feel like my life was shattered into a million pieces which I am only just now beginning to put back together.
Two nights ago Little A slept through until 4am. Joy! I was hoping he would do it again last night, but no, at 1:45am he woke me. I’m grateful, in a way, because at night I am able to nurse him. I’ve struggled with supply issues with breastfeeding, so the longer I keep these night feedings the longer I hope my milk will last. We’ve supplemented with formula since Little A was a week old. He just wasn’t gaining well and our pediatrician felt he needed the extra calories. Let me tell you, I was really, really disappointed. To the point where I lost the joy of having a sweet healthy baby and focused only on the fact that my body wasn’t able to provide for him. Now I am so very grateful that we had formula available for use when we needed it, but I struggled to keep the tears from flowing in that clinical room as I felt I was being told I wasn’t good enough for my baby.
Many wise people came alongside to encourage and remind me that I am feeding my baby, whether by breast or bottle. I know this now. I’ve enjoyed watching my son grow. I think I grieved breastfeeding because it was an expectation that was let down. I thought that even if I struggled at first, it would eventually click and everything would be fine in the end. Now I know that it’s really common to not have success with breastfeeding. What’s important is that your child is growing and healthy.
I feed Little A again at 3:45am, crawl back in bed, and although it seems I just shut my eyes, he wakes up again at 5:45 looking for food. This time, after eating, he doesn’t really want to go back to sleep. I keep the lights off during night feedings and only turn them on when I’m ready to wake up. Little A has learned that when the lights are on he gets to play, so when you turn the lights on, even if he is mid fuss, he squints, stretches, and gets a big grin on his face. Morning is one of my favorite parts of the day because Little A is always super smiley. I feed him, change him, then we snuggle and do some tummy time. Last week he rolled over for the first time! Ninety minutes from when he woke up, almost to the dot, he lets me know he’s sleepy. I swaddle him up and he takes his first nap for the day. I pump, get dressed, and grab some breakfast (usually oatmeal – it’s good for milk supply) while he sleeps.
He wakes up again around 8am, this time for 1.5-2hrs. On Monday and Tuesday, I work at a pregnancy center in the mornings and he either comes with me or stays with Oma. On Thursday, we go together to a MOTs (Mothers of Tots) meeting at church. I enjoy MOTs because it really helps to meet with other moms who are in the same phase of life. They get it when I’m running late because of a diaper blow out just when I thought I had everything ready to go. They understand when I simply can’t keep up a conversation because my brain is as foggy as a London morning. They are my support.
In the afternoons, Little A has settled into a routine of taking a long nap around 1:30pm. He’ll sleep for 2-3 hours. I ought to use this time for cleaning house, but more often I take a nap, read a book, or catch up on my favorite blogs. Toward the end of Little A’s nap I begin prepping dinner. Cooking is my stress relief. Chopping up the veggies for a stir-fry or serving a loaf of fresh baked bread for dinner makes me feel like I’ve done something in a day. A good dinner feels like a gift.
Late afternoons are hard for me. I’m tired and some days are particularly exhausting if Little A’s had a rough day. By the time my hubby gets home from work I am beat. For a few weeks, I was having some really dark thought patterns that weren’t healthy. I felt very disconnected from my baby. Everyone would tell me that his eyes followed me around the room and his face lit up when I was in sight, but I just couldn’t see it. I was struggling. I felt very defeated and callous. My faith was struggling as well. I felt like I couldn’t understand who God is, even though I’ve followed Jesus for many years. Praying felt flat, as though God wasn’t listening or interested in me. I was holding a baby over which I prayed for nine months while carrying him in my womb, and I felt like I couldn’t love him.
There are still days where I still struggle to see beauty and feel love. Love for my sweet men (big and small), love for Jesus, love for myself. Now, each day, I am asking God's Spirit to open my eyes to see His beauty all around me. One day last week, I found myself looking forward to Little A waking from his nap because my life is more fun when he’s in it. I saw beauty in the evening sunlight streaming through a cluster of flowers my hubby picked for me. I felt confident in my skinny (maternity) jeans and boots as the air turns crisp for fall. These are the small gifts in my life that I am clinging to and marking as stones of remembrance as I walk through this journey of becoming Mom.
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How has the journey of 'becoming mom' affected you?
What surprised you about having children?
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