There are a lot of really hard things in life. There’s the small things, like running a mile, geometry, or fitting into last year’s jeans, and then the big stuff, like relationships and new babies.
Alana Smith
New motherhood is like most hard things in that you don’t give the hardness much thought, until you are face-to-face with it. Until you are in the thick of it—when you’ve been up all night for days, need a shower, and you are screaming across the house for someone, anyone to “COME HELP!” And it hits you that this is hard.
When my youngest was a newborn, what worked one day to soothe him would infuriate him the next. When I thought I finally had a schedule in place, he would wake up every two hours to eat. I like predictable, and babies just aren’t. Cuddly, yes. Predictable, not so much. And when I heard about the emotional ups-and-downs that could occur postpartum, I thought I would just sail right past those, all dreamy-like on a new baby cloud. But that wasn’t the case.
And it doesn’t help that there is always something to be cleaned or someone to be fed, soothed, and entertained. You can’t even go to the bathroom without someone hollering all over the house for you—it could be the newborn wailing, or the six-year-old, or your husband. “Mom? Mom? MOM!?”
While on maternity leave, I would start one thing, then something more pressing would need my attention. So, my house felt out of control at times. There were a million hours, yet not enough hours in the day. And being home all day was just a reminder of that, as dirty dishes, diaper pails, and laundry overflowed. At the end of the day, I just wanted a break—to sink into somewhere quiet and rest. It was hard. And heavy.
But it was also wonderful in its own way. I had no idea I was capable of such profound love before I had kids. When I look at my children, I’m filled with emotions that are hard to describe, and all-consuming, really.
So, if you are in the thick of new motherhood, and you find yourself wondering if you’ll survive—not to mention ever sleep again—just know that you’ll be on the edge of it soon and then out the other side. You aren’t alone out there in the thick of it. Soon, you will sleep again, and things won’t be as hard. And then, well, you’ll potty train.
Best of luck, mommas!
Alana Smith is a boy mom (ages 9 and 4), nurse anesthetist, and writer in Birmingham. She shares her writing at Holy Moly Motherhood (on Facebook and Instagram), where she tackles all things motherhood and marriage.