I just read another blogger’s story about bringing home her fourth baby and how awesome and wonderful and peaceful it was. It made me want to cry. Not because of how heartwarming and beautiful it was but because it was nothing – nothing I tell you – like my experience of bringing home any baby, but especially not my fourth.
After an unwelcomed c-section I was in incredible pain emotionally and physically. I was exhausted. I didn’t sleep well in the hospital and I was such a hot mess the attending OB considered keeping me an extra day or two, I’m sure. When I burst into tears at his “how are you feeling” question, he came close and talked to me quietly about postpartum depression. I told him it wasn’t depression. It was the tremendous pain in my abdomen area, inside, where my uterus is. It was utterly excruciating to move a muscle. I bawled like a baby taking my shower that morning, which of course, made everything hurt worse.
He changed my pain meds, which helped immensely.
But it didn’t help the discontent I felt at starting over when I felt like I was almost done.
I remember with my first baby I was on top of the world, so happy – anticipating loving this motherhood thing. I read parenting books and washed onesies and folded the tiniest clothes you ever did see in preparation for bringing home this miniature hobbit.
After holding her for four hours straight that first night I had the thought, if someone will take her for just a little itty bit so I can sleep…. I joined her in crying as I patted her back slowly trying to soothe her to sleep. I cried out of frustration and I cried out of guilt. If I couldn’t even get through the first night, how would I get through the next 18 years?
By the time we welcomed our second bundle of joy 22 months later, I was a pro at raising an infant, but a rookie at chasing a toddler. The first six months were so hectic I remember staying home a lot. It wasn’t until the 2-year mark I felt confident. And then I got pregnant again.
My pregnancies are never easy. They aren’t the worst, but they do come with horrible morning sickness. This third time around it lasted the entire nine months. Additionally, we were told at our 12-week sonogram that our son would die before he really ever lived.
That complicated things emotionally.
Our son was born at 38-weeks gestational age by c-section in a highly coordinated, sterile atmosphere. I heard him make three weak cries before he was whisked away into a separate operating room to begin his own treatment. After 15 minutes his team was able to stabilize him on a ventilator enough to be taken to the cardiac ICU, where he would spend the majority of his first year.
This was a traumatic experience all the way around.
I decided I was done having children. Not only was I at the end of my practical rope keeping up with a medically fragile child and two healthy, vibrant girls, but my mama heart was broken in bits and my brain was taken up with what was needed to survive, unable to keep up with remembering many every day things most people can’t fathom forgetting.
And after almost a decade of being a stay-at-home-mom, I was ready to do something other than laundry, dishes, childcare and cleaning every single day of every single year. I love my children dearly and can’t imagine not being involved in their everyday messes, but I needed a light at the end of the tunnel. Kindergarten was the perfect sized light.
As the light was nearing, God blessed us with a fourth bundle of joy. I felt guilty once again, this time for looking a precious gift horse in the mouth.
Having children hasn’t been romantic or calm or ethereal for me. There have been wonderful, amazing moments. Many of them. But it’s also been a lot of hard work, sweaty days, and learning on the fly.
Even amongst the chaos, I wouldn’t trade any of it or any of them.
Fairy tales don’t exist. A life free from problems is an illusion. Striving to get either one leaves us exhausted and disappointed, instead of thankful for the life we’ve been given.
In those moments when I want to run away and hide, I hold on for dear life, knowing that shiny, “internet-approved” moments aren’t the point. Life with my people is the point. I choose to lean in during the great moments and the not-so-great moments knowing that blessings and fulfillment often come in unexpected, unromantic ways.
Comments (10)
Well said! I’m sure many other moms feel as you do – I know I did many a time. So great to see in black-and-white that it is OK, and the ride is so worth it! Thank you for sharing.
I get it…so get it.
I struggle with having to miss some of the big kids stuff or that my husband gets to be with the big kids while I stay at home with the babies. Because it isn’t fair for the babies to be out until 10pm at the baseball field getting bit by mosquitos, playing in the mud, and eating popcorn and hot dogs for dinner. They should be bathed and in bed while I read them a bed time story. Right? But it isn’t fair that I have to miss the ball game all because we have a big family and have babies, right? So I drag them along. But then I feel guilty. So then the next game I don’t go, and he hits a homerun. The cycle goes on and on…..
But in the end, we try to make the best of it. I’m going to miss some things with all of our kids. As is my husband. You can’t be with them every second of the day.
And I treasure the time with the babies because when I look at our big kids I know how fast it goes.
Thank you for this honest post. No one is honest nowadays. Social media is so prevalent and does such a disservice to us because all we see are the snapshots of cute babies dressed in nice outfits or cuddling with their moms or making a silly face. We don’t see exhaustion or stress or not showering for three days or being covered in spit up and not caring. Motherhood has been a HUGE eye opener to me into what it means to truly be selfless. I think honest posts like this really deserve praise because THIS is real life, real motherhood. Not cute selfies on Instagram.
Thank you for this post. It’s so easy to think everyone has this amazing life when that’s all you see on Facebook. And even the problems are kind of glossed over with a sarcastic joking comment. I needed this reminder that lifr is always going to have problems and you need to find the joy anyway.
Mad props to the moms who feel that peace and post postpartum ease. I felt terror. I say we are done having kids, and at 38, I am pretty serious about this. I always joke that God could think our adamant stance on this is really funny and just throw us a curve ball. Pray that isn’t the case. We are six years from an empty nest!!
I just want to say thank you for sharing. I can honestly say that I really felt what you were going through while reading your post.
this is so beautifully written and heartfelt, I’m sure it was probably hard to share with us, but thank you for doing so. Although my experiences have not all been the same as yours, I can relate to the struggle of trying to raise children, maintain a household, keep everybody healthy, happy, and fed, including myself. Thanks again.
That’s so traumatic to hear that kind of medical news while 12 weeks pregnant. I love your honesty about all the chaos and guilt. as someone about to have baby #2, I’d much rather read honest posts like these than idealized posts that will probably make me feel bad about my parenting skills 😉
I feel you. My first baby was 9 days overdue and was delivered via emergency c-section. My second was delivered via c-section 3 weeks early due to a placental abruption. I had rough pregnancies.
I hear you. My guy was born via emergency c-section and spent time in the NICU. I’s so tough. This motherhood thing is tough and beautiful and heart warming and heart breaking. If only we could be more honest with each other in saying that, there would be a LOT less mama guilt. Thank you for sharing this post.