Thursday, May 31, 2012

New reality

I was not prepared for this amount of sleep deprivation.  It clearly didn't matter how many people told me, how many articles or books I read.  Holy crap.  Eight hours once in a blue moon is clearly not enough.  My life is a series of naps.  Day blends into night and vice versa.  I'm really thrown now that the days are getting longer.

The hardest part about being a mom, I think, is that I don't always love it.  And when I talk to a new mom who says "Isn't it just the best thing ever?"  I just answered honestly.  "Well, yes, but it's also really hard sometimes."  And she looked at me like I was crazy.  As if by giving that answer means I don't love my kid.  Which is bullshit, because no words can describe how I feel about Wesley.  But don't we all have bad days?  Like today, where child has been up since midnight for the most part, eating every 60 to 90 minutes, sleeping 20 minutes, then repeat?  And you can barely sleep, let alone eat?  I mean, there is absolute truth in the statement "This is the hardest job you will ever love."  No kidding.

What I was not expecting is how isolating motherhood would feel.  And how my friendships would change.  How I would feel like I've lost myself in some respects, and that the old me is gone.  Which is exhausting to think about because I spent 3 or 4 years in counseling after Mom died, and came out a new, confident woman.  And now I'm mommy.  And this is a new part of my personality that I'm not familiar with, that arrived somewhat unexpectedly with Wesley being a preemie.  When I talk to my friends, I start almost every conversation with "I'm all baby, all the time, and that's all I can talk about because that's my life right now."  Most understand.  And I certainly try to go easy on myself.  But it's hard, and I don't even miss my old life because I can't remember life before Wesley.  It all seems so far away.

I know he'll get older.  I know this too shall pass.  I know he'll grow like a weed right before my eyes, and before I'm ready he'll be off to preschool.  I know I need/want to enjoy every single moment.  But at this particular moment, I'd really just like 8 hours of straight sleep every night for a week.


emilie said...

It is hard and it will go fast and you will love it and hate it sometimes. The first months are so strange... I *still* think of "nighttime Matt & Emilie" as being completely separate beings from "daytime us." The former are cranky and quarrelsome, panicky and far far too easily frustrated by real frustrations in a way that daytime us would be ashamed of... if we had the cognizance to remember the night. When we do, thankfully, we usually also have a much larger portion of chagrin and humor.
Point being: You are in the trenches. There is light, and sleep and an uninterrupted meal (sometimes) in your near future. it may take awhile to get there, but it DOES exist!
In other news: I never remember the gawdaful temper tantrums nearly as much as the ankles suddenly sticking out miles from pants that fit last week or the sticky fingers to the glass, high little voice calling out: "moooooon."

Mary said...

Good days and bad days for sure. You are so right. And the sleep depravation-yep, no one's ready for that. It'll get better, not easier, but're a wonderful mom Camille. I knew you would be!