Being a Mama

Toph is oh so peaceful right now in his swing; is it weird that sometimes I feel guilty about putting him there? I think, oh geez, he'll never be this tiny again and here I am blogging while I should be holding him, even though he's sound asleep.

Is it weird that I daily experience a small amount of guilt? Be it over grumbling about getting up at 4am to nurse, be it over losing a tiny sock unbeknownst to me and then feeling a cold foot, be it over letting him lie in his bassinet awake instead of holding and rocking him until he falls asleep, be it a little scratch on his face from his razor sharp fingernails...the list goes on.

Sometimes I just feel guilty, if only for a second or two.

Is it weird that I create things to worry about? Be it the temperature of the room, be it what I ate that's now affecting my breastmilk, be it that burp that I just couldn't get to come out but I know it's there, be it his weird big toenail that looks weird, be it the number of his poops, be it just about anything. I will worry about it, if only fleetingly.

I will say that these worries/feelings of guilt have lessened considerably since the first three weeks postpartum. I was a basketcase those first three weeks; I believe I suffered what they call "baby blues." I barely slept those first three weeks, not because I wasn't tired, oh, I was tired, but I felt I couldn't take my eyes off my child. So, I would wake myself involuntarily to check him. I was anxious all the time; I would cry at the drop of a hat. TV was off limits to me; if something was too violent or too sad or too happy I would burst into tears. The whole time I was suffering from baby blues I was cognizant enough to know that's what it was, but it didn't make it any easier. It was like having an out of body experience, where the sane side of me could see that I was completely hormonal, but I could do nothing to stop it. I know that post-partum depression is a very real thing and I am so thankful I turned a corner and have those crazy hormones more or less in check.

I still have my worries and guilt, but I'm able to pray about them, reason them out, and move on. It's a daily thing.

But with all this comes joy. Daily, never-ending, heart-wrenching joy. I wake up everyday excited to hang out with my boy. I look forward to nursing sessions, I sing while I change dirty diapers. I look at my boy and I see a physical representation of the best of my husband and me and my heart overflows with joy. Even during those darkest moments of baby blues those first few weeks, I would be overcome with pure joy at the sight of my precious boy. So yes, being a mama is rife with worries, sometimes guilt, but mostly, it's rife with joy. Pure, unadulterated joy.



How could it not be?