So, that pregnancy test I took 2 years ago has amounted to
the sweetest little person I have ever met. His name is Sam and I can HONESTLY feel
my heart ACHE every time I look him laughing at me or smiling at me. Even when he is passed out asleep, the love I
have for that baby is something I will never be able to describe to anyone. It’s
not like falling in love, and it’s not like the love you have for your family
or friends. It’s like the kind of love that moves you all day long, every day,
forever. It’s big and unmoving and irrationally overwhelming.
Now, that doesn’t mean it’s all sunshine, butterflies and
happiness. That is definitely not
the case. It’s tricky because it’s been
over a year since I met Sam, and to be honest, it was all such a blur for that
first 6 months that I wish I had been writing it down. I’m sure there are
things I am definitely romanticizing (like late nights with Sam’s first
smile...as opposed to remembering the 2 hour long screaming sessions)...but
there is some of it that has become even more clear, so I can try and articulate
that for you.
First of all, having baby, is like being on a
rollercoaster. The popular one you know
about. One that friends have told you about, one that you have even looked up
on Google, one you checked out the ads for, and finally, finally get up the
courage to try.
So you make the preparations
(ie: get knocked up) and then once its booked in and you are headed there, you are suddenly on a
straight course to ride this huge intense terrifying rollercoaster ride. All of
a sudden it becomes less of an “exciting idea” and more of a “holy shit reality”,
which makes the lead up to it all that much more terrifying. You start to imagine the terrible things that
could happen on the ride. What if you throw up on someone? What if the hinges
on ONLY your car come off and you fall off the track? What if you actually poop
yourself? Except when it is a baby you
start thinking, what in the hell was I thinking? I can’t take care of a tiny
human!? I don’t even know how to install a car seat! What if I drop it? What it
hates me? What if I don’t love it like people say I will?
Because you already paid for your trip to get to this rollercoaster
(in vomit and 9 months of heavy breathing and stretch marks) you realise there's
no way around this, you are getting on. And luckily, your dumb “Ill follow you
anywhere” partner is right there beside you and knows he has to get on too. Sucker.
Finally they strap you in, and off you go. Now, if you’re a
control freak like me, you researched this ride through and through. Every turn, every drop, and every upside down
flip. You know about breastfeeding and
you know about every 2 hour feedings. You
know there will be lack of sleep. You
have the best diapers and the video baby monitor that will alert you of any
pauses in baby breathing (okay I didn’t have that monitor but they exist and I DID
consider it). All in all, if you are
like me, you think you prepared yourself for every possible drop, every
possible negative outcome and have your adult diaper on for any accidents.
And then the ride starts.
Something I can say with honesty and with a lot of humility,
is that even though you prepare for those drops and twists and turns, reading about them and
experiencing them are two things that are not the same...not even related...not
even removed by marriage related.
Even after you read about breastfeeding, it doesn’t prepare
you for the feelings of failure when its not working, and It also doesn’t prepare
you for the pride you feel when it does. The day you finally don’t shriek out
in pain when that baby latches onto you becomes a mountain conquered.
You write notes and
listen to all the experts about how to manage the sleep deprivation when that
baby is up every 2 hours. However at 4 am when you still haven’t gone to bed and
have fallen asleep in the world’s most awkward position, with food in your
hair, in clothes you’ve been wearing for 5 days, smelling of sweat and milk,
with a 9lb infant on your chest because you’re too afraid to attempt the
transfer to his crib and risk waking him up, you wonder why any asshole
attempted to explain any of it to you.
You think you will be the mom who does sleep training with no
problems because hey, you’ve heard babies cry and you knew you could withstand
listening to it for awhile. But when it has been 35 minutes of your baby crying
and when YOU’VE been crying since minute 3, you quickly swear to god you will
never judge another woman going through sleep training ever, ever, EVER
again...and you also quickly become okay with having a glass of wine in the
afternoon.
You read every single chapter on how to discipline a toddler.
You’re sure you have it nailed down and that you would ace any test anyone
wrote for you. And then you stand there with your jaw dropped in complete shock
when your toddler tries to bite you as you take the toilet brush away from him.
You miss every opportunity to even get out of the way much less use the tried
and tested “ clap growl method” you learned about.
But most importantly, you think you have a pretty good
understanding that the bond you will have to this tiny person will be something
great, something amazing. You read about the mother-child attachments, the
parent love that comes with having a baby, but you honestly can never, never understand
that twist, and that turn, until you are in the middle of it. You can never
anticipate the love. You can never see it coming. Until you are in the midst of
it with the wind in your hair, the loss of inhibition, the fear and the
excitement all flowing over you so fast you can barely breathe, that drop and twist
is one you will never ever see coming and never forget once it’s happened.
You can imagine what the rollercoaster is going to be like,
you can anticipate it and research it, but there's just nothing like riding it
and being on it. There's sudden drops that even if you see coming, take your
breath away, there are flips in the
track that make you scream outloud without a thought. The one thing that being on that rollercoaster
teaches you, is that you’re on it, and if you stop trying to predict the next
turn, stop trying to anticipate how you will feel, you will start to just ease
into every twist, and give a little with each drop and sooner than later
you start enjoy every single last minute turn.
At the end of the day you will get to the heart of what
parenting , (and rollercoastering) is all about. The Joy. Pure, uninhibited
Joy.
So I’ve learned to just...let the track run (after many
moments of utter defeat in trying to control a situation you almost never have
complete control over) , and I’ve stopped trying to looking ahead, and while
there are days where I’m exhausted and I'm worn down and forgot to even put
deodorant on, at the end of the day, I look at that boy asleep in his crib, and I feel that joy of the ride
all over again.
So that’s a bit of an update, I know its vague and in
pieces, but it’s a start, which is the best I can manage at this point...its
not a coincidence that my child is just over a year old and it’s been just over
a year since my last update...
but tell me this wouldnt distract you too...
