Wednesday, August 5, 2015

That Day I Cried For All The Reasons

I am 16 days postpartum and I have a vague idea of what I'm doing.

Who am I kidding? I tell myself that so that when I start to lose my shit (see: when my kid starts to lose his shit) and I make choices to calm him and myself the same way I shoot darts; slight focus, no target and SHOOT! and see where I land, I can feel a little bit at peace with the knowledge that "I've read the books, I've got an idea what to do."

Actually, I haven't a fucking clue. And my kid can't tell me. And sometimes I curse anything that comes in my line of vision. You! Cat! This is your fault! Either refill my water or move you and your long fluffy tail outta my space!

And then he latches, finally. And he looks at me with his ever-changing eye color and his little hand resting on my big overly-full boob, and my heart explodes all over again. Oh yeah, you. You little tiny precious vulnerable perfect thing, my love for you is ungodly ridiculous, you are worth it all.

One might say I'm hormonal. One might. Hell, I'll shout it from the damn roof, my emotions are all over the place. Take today for example, Dad had a lunch meeting, I hadn't showered yet, the bonus kids were both doing their own thing and my sweet new baby is wailing is head off. Like, full-on back arched, neck all veiny, red faced and just M.A.D. mad. And all I can do is stand and rock him and offer the boob and then not get furious when he falls asleep 3 minutes into eating. Kid, don't you know I have things to do? Like wash my armpit that you are so close to, doesn't that smell bother you?! Clearly not. Sleeping like an angel, you little devil.

And that is when I cry. For the next hour and half, wiping my snotty nose on his burp cloth because he is quiet right now and I don't want to move to get a kleenix for fear that he'll wake up. So the tears mostly-silently drip down my face and I try to figure out what is really bothering me.

And then I cry more because all the reasons that come to my mind are so silly and small; Dad is at a meeting which he kindly asked if he could go and I agreed, because someone I know said she'd come over and clean my bathroom 3 times and hasn't shown-up when in actuality it is my messy bathroom, my kid won't stop crying which is fine he's a baby it's his job, I really want a big sugary chocolaty coffee drink yet I know that isn't the smartest choice, I want to stand in a hot shower and not be bothered, I want to read my book while my sweet babe sleeps. All of these are first world problems and in my pre-mama life I would've told myself to grow a pair and move on.

But now? But now. I am trying to embrace each crazy, small, seemingly dumb thought, face it, give it it's moment to take over, and I am hoping that by doing so I won't head down that oh-so-scary tunnel of depression. Greet it head-on, stare it down and embrace every tear and ridiculous thought, remembering that just like going through labor, nothing lasts forever.

Today was one day. One day in the chaos of my new mama life. Here I am. Here I'll chronical my woes and my successes and here I hope that one other mama will understand.


  1. Hang in there. The first six weeks are the hardest. You're doing great. Treat yourself to a coffee.

  2. Hang in there. The first six weeks are the hardest. You're doing great. Treat yourself to a coffee.