Fu Manwho?
Posted by elizabeth |
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Let’s be honest. Early motherhood can feel like a DISASTER. Some people refer to the first 3 months of life with a newborn as the 4th Trimester (I’m always itching to say Quadrimester but let’s not be legalistic…). You ramp up in your pregnancy to the final, painful climax of birth and then do you get to snuggle slowly back into life in a gentle denouement? No, it’s more like hitting the floor spine-jarringly hard when you thought there was one more step to descend. Nope, no smooth transition, no deep breath before the plunge, just the start of what seems like one long, long, endless three-month day.
Last night David and I had a serious talk about what can be adjusted in our day to day logistics to keep me from murdering one or both of my children, or myself. We came upon some solutions that I hope will be useful, and then he slowly, carefully said: “Now, don’t worry or anything when I say this, but it’s possible that you might–maybe–be…slightly depressed.” Well, that didn’t freak me out at all; I smiled reassuringly and said “OF COURSE I’M DEPRESSED!!!!” Isn’t sleep deprivation a torture technique??? Not to mention all the other bodily and hormonal unpleasantries that I will not mention here and which will remain unmentioned by me.
Deep breath. Sorry, just employing one of my favored coping mechanisms…whenever I find myself with ANY mental, physical or emotional space, I breathe and breathe and breathe, hoping to store up for those frequent moments of internal strangulation I experience when trying to get two kids out the door in 20 degree weather without cursing at them or their recalcitrant gloves, trying (failing) to catch a little, tiny pretense of a nap here and there, or trying (failing) to keep my 3-year old quiet in our Brooklyn apartment while little one “sleeps”. As any mother knows, it’s rough. (Mother’s Day assumes all new proportions of heartfelt gratitude to MY mommy…)
But today is a new day, with fresh mercy. Just talking through ANY kind of solution really helps…even the smallest bone is a feast to this tired dog. And truly our community of neighbors and friends have been amazing–bringing food, taking Leif for the morning, or just calling to check in. Yesterday the highlight was eating peanut butter brickle while nursing Orion. (Special thanks to our neighbor Veronika for that little indulgence!)
I guess I’m just venting. Everyone says it gets better…I’ll post again if/when it does. Meanwhile, keep those bones a-comin’.
And here’s a recent shot of said 2nd, who is now smiling (though I couldn’t quite capture it here)…((and this is kind of fish-eye; his nose isn’t THAT big))…(((but he does frequently employ that expression that seems to say, “Seriously, mommy?”))):
