In two days my son will celebrate his 11 month birthday which means 11 months ago my life changed forever. There is a definitive before him and after him with a thick non wavering line that is drawn between the two times. When I was pregnant and people use to rub my belly they also use to tell me that everything about my life was about to change forever. I believed them but I use to get agitated by this. I would also get “enjoy your sleep now” most times this came from the fathers. I wanted to say “Would you be able to sleep with a 9 lb. baby sitting between you bladder and sciatic nerve” but instead I would just smile. Mom’s use to say life would never be the same. I knew they were right but when you make the commitment to get pregnant and become a Mother none of that matters anymore you become tunnel vision into bringing that baby into the world and giving it the best start you possibly can, the sleepless nights, the trials of your marriage none of it seems to matter more than that precious bundle of joy… at least not at first.
I work with children. I figured motherhood for me would be like a mock trial at a law school for a well established judge, I assumed it would all be easy and I must admit, at first it was. Some of the credit must go to my son. He was an amazing newborn weighing in at 9 lbs I was never worried about waking him in the middle of the night to feed him in fear he was not getting big enough. He was sleeping 8-10 hour a night by 8 weeks and as long as he was fed every 2 hours during the day he was a very good little boy, that is until the first of 13 ear infections… oh and lets’ not forget the teeth that started popping up out of nowhere (I count 8 almost 9 teeth at 11 months old.) Well needless to say once all these factors started infiltrating our lives paired with going back to work full time suddenly motherhood was not easy and a lot of nights not even enjoyable. Then just when I thought it was really bad, he started to crawl.
I never thought I would say “no”: more than any other word. I went from spending 3-4 hours a day loving, snuggling and enjoying my infant to 3-4 hours of huffing and puffing yelling and giving time outs to my baby. Yes OK throw the bad parent book at me I probably deserve it for one reason or another but I give my son time outs at under a year old. Sometimes it is after he has hit the dog 3 times, or crawled over to his water dish several times after I told him not. Sometimes it is because if I do not put him somewhere safe and walk away he will see me cry and I fear that might confuse him more than being in his crib alone for a few minutes. I wake up and fall asleep at night thinking of ways that he will understand “no” without me having to yell it at him. Sometimes I even think he likes it. YES likes when I say it. He likes to ruffle my feathers, he is me and I LOVE to ruffle people’s feathers and here is my son with the same (not always good quality) of ruffling and he is using it on me. I never thought motherhood could be a constant feeling of guilt that someone might do it better than me or the fear that tapping his hand when he touches something he shouldn’t might make him violent, that if someone else was his mother they might have more patience than me and might not be standing with my back to him holding back tears when I have just had enough.
And then there is my marriage. Children DO change a marriage. At first the ways are subtle. You gawk over your baby more than your husband then you prefer to sleep next to your baby over your husband. Your husband becomes 2nd.
My husband has changed too. He feels guilt now, before our son I am not sure he even knew what guilt felt like. I can see his- entire body and demeanor change when he delicately asks if it is OK if he plays with his band this weekend. Since the baby I call it his “garage band”. Thinking about it now I added the word garage to make his band seem less important to remind him that it is a stupid band and we are more important, his FAMILY is more important so subconsciously I caused some of that guilt. Even sitting here now the responsibility is eating at me…. He waits for a reaction from me when he is asking (and yes now we “ask” one another to do things) and depending not on what I say but how I say it is weather he goes or not. If he stays home I feel guilt and he feels resentment, if he goes I feel resentment and he feels guilt, so how do you win? Now this only began recently. When the baby was not a demon spawn we would come and go a lot but now that the baby literally gets a rise out of being bad things have changed. My husband asked “why is he bad all the time” and I wonder that too. Are we doing something wrong? What happened to I am a judge and this is my mock trial at a law school… I thought I was supposed to know what to do.
Something that my sister said resonates in my head so often. She said “Parenthood is not a job it is gift.” When I am bending down with an aching back to pick up the child hanging on my leg whining I wonder why it feels like a job to me. I wonder what she is doing differ t and more importantly what I am doing wrong… what am I doing wrong?
I miss sleeping in, I miss making love to my husband without rushing it or pausing if we hear the baby rustle over the monitor holding our breath, I miss staying in our pajamas all day and watching 3 movies in a row. I miss going out to dinner and just sitting on the couch holding hands, I miss my old life. I love my son, I love the life we have created but I miss me. I miss shopping and taking my time in the changing room. I miss going to the movies and I miss driving home from work and worrying only about traffic and not about pleasing a child in the backseat for an hour drive. I miss wearing clothes that do not have snot stains on both shoulders and sunglasses that are not warped by him constantly trying to get them off my face. Why does it feel like a job to me? Am I a bad mother?
I love my son, I love my son, and I love my son. This is not a question it’s a fact. No matter the inconvenient and headache I want nothing more than to do the best for him and that’s why it is so hard. There is no manual no rules just me and my husband doing what we think is the best and we don’t always think right. It is still hard though. It is hard it is hard it is hard. Why is it so hard?
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