March 5, 2017
Dear Erica,
I know how you're feeling right now: exhausted, enormous, and above all, anxious. You just want to know when you're going to have this baby. You just want to know what's going to happen. You'd feel so much better if someone could just adequately prepare you for everything to come.
It's impossible, of course, but if I could share anything with you-- if I could ease your anxiety in any way-- I'd tell you from the other side...
You're so close. You're going to go into labor tonight, suddenly and without warning, and at 5:05 tomorrow morning, March 6, you're going to have a beautiful baby boy. His umbilical cord is going to be wrapped around his neck and what is less than a minute in reality is going to feel like an eternity until you hear his first cry, and relief like you've never experienced is going to flood through you. You'll think, "Thank God," followed almost immediately by, "He looks just like Michael." Giving birth won't be nearly as bad as you think it will be. You will survive the terrifying epidural. It's going to go FAST. Just keep breathing, and it will be fine. It's the recovery that's going to get you. It's going to be a difficult road, and you'll think you'll never look or feel like your old self again. Unfortunately, it will take a short but painful procedure to finalize the physical healing process, but after that, I promise you, it will be okay.
You're going to go from the best moment of your life to the worst within a week's time. That first week will feature the lowest lows you've ever experienced. How I wish I could save you from the pain and fear of that first week when your son will refuse to nurse. All the classes, reading, and preparation for this experience won't mean anything when your baby just will not play along. His one week "birthday" will be the absolute hardest and worst day. The guilt will feel all consuming, and it will take you months to forgive yourself, but try and be gentle with yourself. I promise you, it will be okay.
You'll learn that no one, professionals included, knows your child like you do, and you have to be an advocate for him. You'll dedicate yourself to pumping, and you'll trick your body into thinking that you're feeding twins, just to produce more to feed your son, because we both know how guilt works with you and how you'll do just about anything to assuage it. You will feel like a zombie, like a milk machine, like you could never hate something so much and yet do it so often just to try and make up for your worst day as a mother, and you'll wonder how long you can keep this up. When you finally quit, you'll think you didn't do it long enough. But you did what you could, and I promise you, it will be okay.
Friends, family, and strangers will tell you all sorts of things. Some of it will be amazing advice that you'll kick yourself for not figuring out on your own, but you'll be so grateful to know it now. Some of it will be terrible, horrible, awful advice that you should avoid at all costs. Some of it you will follow and learn your lesson the hard way, and some of it you will recognize for the bad advice that it is, and you'll steer clear. (Probably well-meaning) people will tell you terrible things about your parenting, but I beg you not to take it to heart. Your child's temperament and personality is not a reflection of your parenting. He's a baby. You're a new mom. It will sting, but I promise you, it will be okay.
You'll bring your problems to friends and family-- and the occasional stranger-- and sometimes, they'll be able to help. Sometimes, it will be enough just to rant and have them listen. Most of the time, though, you'll have to hear over and over again that they didn't experience the same problems you did. You'll dread hearing the same things: I had a really easy baby... All of my babies slept perfectly... none of my babies ever had trouble eating... what do you mean, your baby only naps thirty minutes at a time? ... I just had the world's happiest baby... mine never did that... how are you functioning? ... I had an easy baby... I had an easy baby... I had such easy babies... So many people will tell you that they had easy babies that you'll wonder what's wrong with you. Why do you feel like your baby is so hard? Are you not cut out to be a mother? Maybe your kid IS an easy baby and you're just that bad of a parent! This fear will plague you incessantly. People will tell you it all gets easier at two weeks. It all gets easier at six weeks. It gets easier at twelve weeks. Again, you'll wonder what's wrong with you. It will take you SIX MONTHS to feel like you've finally got the hang of it, until you feel like you can breathe. But you will get there-- slowly, yes, but you'll get there. I promise you, it will be okay.
Dear rule follower, you're going to want to do everything right so badly, but as you've been warned over and over again, there are no rules. You'll cling to any guidelines you can find and believe you have to do it exactly that way, until you'll finally learn that it just doesn't work like that. And for heaven's sake, STAY OFF THE GODFORSAKEN INTERNET. That hellhole of horror stories will only drive you insane and make things worse. Yes, there are some good resources there, but for the most part, it will only bring you down. And remember, social media is mostly a highlight reel. You'll be guilty of this, too, but try to avoid comparison. You'll figure things out through trial and error. You'll do things you swore you would never do as a parent, and you'll cry your eyes out over it all, but it's part of the learning process. It's part of figuring out what does and doesn't work for you, which may or may not be the same thing as what works for others. Go at your own pace. Do what's best for you, your baby, and your family. Because I promise you, it will be okay.
One of the hardest changes will be surrendering your need and love for scheduling. I know you have this idea in your head of a rigid schedule that you'll keep your baby on, because babies love routine, and you were a very scheduled kid yourself, and you know it's effective, but this will not work out for you. Your baby's downright toxic relationship with naps will mean that you're on his time, always. This is still hard a year later. It's humbling to ask friends to be flexible with their time for plans; it's stressful to be unable to commit to certain times and events; it's difficult to have to cancel plans because your kid's nap times didn't line up right (or your pump times, in the early days). We're still working on this, but it's a lesson in giving up control and learning, however painfully, to be more flexible (not your strong point). And this is as much a reminder and promise to future Erica as it is to past Erica-- it will be okay.
You'll learn so much. You'll figure out how to go grocery shopping while baby-wearing, how to prepare bottles with one hand (and the left hand at that), how to pin down a wiggling, rolling baby on the changing table while removing a dirty diaper, how to juggle your work and home schedules while feeling such a strong pull from both. You'll start receiving the Eucharist by tongue while holding your baby, something that's always intimidated you. You'll have to remind yourself in the early days to talk to your baby, because you're not much for talking, but over time, you'll find that you talk to everyone more. This includes talking to yourself in public, because you'll get so used to narrating everything to your baby to keep him happy. There will be times when you feel (and look) like an absolute lunatic. But again, I promise you, it will be okay.
Everything comes and goes as if in seasons. Just when you think you will DIE if you go one more night without sleep, he'll sleep straight through to morning (and you'll panic at 5AM). But on the flip side, just when you think you've finally conquered nighttime sleeping, he'll hit a sleep regression and will be up all hours yet again. You will find breaking point after breaking point, but you will make it through it all. It's all cyclical, seasonal. Everything passes. This is your saving grace for some challenges, but it's difficult to accept for others. Yes, he will finally, eventually, stop fighting (most) naps tooth and nail, but you will stop having those quiet ten minutes of peaceful rocking when he finally falls asleep in your arms. You'll have ample opportunity to consider the duality of emotions-- for example, how you can hate washing bottles but be so glad that you have bottles to wash, because it means your baby is eating. You can loathe hearing your child scream in the night but be so grateful that you have a child to hear. It's confusing, it's exhausting, but may I remind you again of my promise: it will all be okay.
Nothing you'll experience in the upcoming year will be new-- mothers have been doing this since the beginning of time-- but it will be new to you, and you'll make it through. You're going to go through an unexpected identity crisis in the midst of it all, but you will come out on the other side all the better. What a journey! What a privilege and a blessing to have these experiences!
Tomorrow, we'll be celebrating this little boy's first birthday. You may not make it through that first year with the grace and ease that you would hope for, but you will make it through. As with everything you're involved with, you'll be a touch more dramatic about it than necessary (see this blog post), but such is life. Remember to lean on your husband, who will prove to be the most incredible dad. You always knew he'd be a good one, but getting to see him in action is truly and deeply special. Remember to lean on your family and friends and accept the help that they so generously offer.
Each day will get a little easier. You will learn to trust yourself. Remember that comparison is the thief of joy-- and you will want to keep every ounce of joy that comes from being a mother.
You will be amazed at how much this gorgeous little boy can make you laugh. That's the best thing I can tell you from where I am now. There is so much laughter ahead. Hang in there. You're so close.
It will all be okay.
With love and a whole lot more perspective,
Erica
March 5, 2018
