Hello again, page; hello, friend-who-is-reading this. Can you believe I’m somebody’s mother?! Most days before having a baby, I was lucky to feed myself and do something productive/meaningful. Now another human LIFE depends on me. Overwhelming is an understatement.
And we’re almost 40 weeks, 2 days into this thing. That means we’re almost at lil’ boy’s “In and Out” Day… the same amount of time outside my body as in. Except, has he ever really left? Do babies ever truly leave their mothers? I remember reading somewhere that some of a baby’s blood mixes in with the mother’s; for the rest of their lives, mothers carry within them bits of their children’s DNA. So welcome to the world, baby. Again. And again. And always again. Every morning when we both wake up, hello again, world.
40 weeks, 2 days… that’s somewhere near the 8/9/10 month sleep regression, right? God, I wish I’d written more before now. I have bits and pieces in my personal journal, but not until now did I feel the urge to write something that other people might read.
Parenthood–exhaustion–forces a kind of tunnel vision onto you. And it’s a good thing, I think. With Exhaustion Tunnel Vision, I had just enough energy to tend to lil’ boy’s needs (ha… did I say “enough energy”?). Actually, I couldn’t spend much time or energy focusing on how the house looked (a mess) or how my friendships were going (they’re hanging on, but barely). All I could think about was this little squishy loaf of bread that was miraculously living and nursing and pooping and sleeping, and then giggling and smiling and rolling over, and then oh holy shit now he’s crawling.
You’re so present with “now” that it’s hard to remember “back then,” even when “back then” was just a few months or even weeks ago.
It’s hard to remember just how hard it is, even when you’re doing it every single day.
So we’re almost 40 weeks, 2 days into this thing, huh? It hasn’t stopped being overwhelming, but it has (somewhat) stopped feeling so defeating. Some days. Other days, it’s still a big pile of Exhaustion Tunnel Vision mixed with just enough self-awareness to know that your friendships are slipping and the house really is a mess.
And we’ll try again tomorrow, and the day after. Good thing we have each other.