Motherhood isn't all puppies and rainbows

Too often moms fall into the trap of only talking about the good: the smiles, the laughs, the cuddles. When someone asks how things are going, it's easier to say "We're wonderful!" than it is to talk about sleepless nights and screaming. All moms want to pretend we have it all together and our babies are the most wonderful angels in the world because to do any less might suggest that we aren't as good of a mom as we want to be. But nothing is puppies and rainbows all the time, and motherhood is no exception.

There have been times since I became a mom that I've been overwhelmed. I've been exasperated by Ethan waking multiple times at night for seemingly no reason. I've been frustrated when Ethan refuses the bottle and screams when it comes near his mouth. I've felt like a horrible mom when he tumbled backwards and bumped his head on the desk leg. Don't get me wrong. I love being a mother and I love my son more than I've loved anything in my entire life. I wish I could cuddle with him all night long instead of having to put him "so far away from me" in his crib, but unfortunately I need sleep to function and I'd rather not have Ethan be squished by his daddy in our bed. His smiles, his laughs, even his pouts make the rare scream well worth it. But this blog is about motherhood in its entirety so it's about time I shared my worst moment in motherhood:

That first night home from the hospital.

Because I went into labor on Sunday night and Ethan wouldn't sleep without being held that first night, I hadn't slept since Saturday. By Tuesday night I was so wired from sleep deprivation and anxiety that I was unable to sleep and was physically shaking. Ethan once again wouldn't sleep without being held, plus he kept crying (even though he had a clean diaper and had just eaten! Imagine that!). In desperation, I asked my mom to stay and rock him in the nursery while I tried to go to sleep. When the shaking wouldn't stop, I finally called the on-call OB to ask about taking a Benadryl since I'd gotten mixed information from Google. As the shaking subsided, my mind refused to shut off. First of all, I felt like a failure because we were supposed to be on our own at night, not needing help from Grandmama. It was the first night, and I already was passing the buck! Secondly, I felt horrible about taking medication, even though the doctor said it was fine (I still have some guilt about this and wonder if it influenced my supply issues, even though logically I know they were a result of the PCOS). Finally, I just didn't know what to do with this new creature that relied completely on me while I seemed incapable of caring for him. The thoughts got dark. I felt we had made a horrible mistake. I even seriously contemplated whether my parents would consider taking him with them. All I knew was that I was not capable. I had failed as a mother, and that was it.

Thankfully, I was able to get some sleep (though of course it was brief and in spurts since Ethan needed to nurse). My mom stayed up with him the entire night, rocking and holding him while he slept. And wouldn't you know it, things looked better in the morning light.

Never for a moment did I cease loving him, but I seriously doubted my abilities. Now, Ethan is thriving. And you know what? So am I. I clean the whole house every week, something I didn't even do pre-baby. I cook 4 nights a week (every weeknight I don't have class). I even got an A on my first post-baby grad school paper. Motherhood won't be wonderful all the time. Ethan just has to bump his head, and I'll feel like the worst mother in the world. And he still usually wakes up at least once during the night. But I just need to wait for that morning light.