The first few moments after Barrett barrelled into our world were all a blur… the hospital staff was performing the circus act commonly referred to as labor and delivery and Adam and I awaited the decision as to where our miniature little man would settle — the Nursery or the NICU. My emotions went from near bliss to near blues as the nurse informed us that Barrett may have some issues with his tummy and for what seemed a lifetime, they whisked him away to get his first of many ultrasounds. The first 72 hours of little Barrett’s life were a mixed bag of sleeping, feeding and additional tests and two days after Barrett’s debut, I felt it… the dip into the doldrums commonly referred to as the baby blues had infiltrated my happy little world and no matter how many times I listened to “I’m gonna soak up the sun” I just couldn’t shake ’em. We had a perfectly healthy little bundle and yet I was exhausted and overwhelmed. The weeks that followed were monopolized by feeding every two hours through the day and the night and on top of that, getting the hang of being parents. Each and every person that asked me if I was loving it and if I just adored little B… and honestly, I wasn’t sure. I loved Barrett to pieces but whether or not I loved being a full-time mom, I didn’t yet know.
Here’s the thing, I am selfish and spoiled and I don’t mind admitting it. My time prior to parenthood was consumed by work and play … and I could decide exactly what I had on deck for my days. I am lucky enough to have always had a true partner in marriage in that Adam and I always work hand in hand so the load is never to heavy for one to bear and yet, post B’s arrival I felt like I needed to be everything to everyone. I felt like such a bad mother as I had long heard most mamas gushing about their little gems and I was perplexed by my indifference to my newest title of Mother. Every time I held Barrett sans screaming, I could find my happy place once again but when the screaming would not subside and sleep was such a rarity, I thought I might have misplaced my mojo and no matter where I looked, I was unable to locate.
Although the emotional roller coaster has not come to a complete halt (hello, I am a girl), my mood and my mindset are much less melancholy post the three month mark. It makes sense now why most jobs today require a 90 day probationary period… a trial run to make sure that you’ve found the right fit… the only difference is, once you’re a parent, you’re pretty well locked in … do not pass go, do not collect $200, you are a parent and it’s pretty permanent. Regardless of all that fell before, three months was a truly magical mark for baby B and thus, things are looking up in the mother hood. He is smiley, sweet and sometimes sassy and each day is full of surprises.
In finding my adoration for our little angel, I must admit, I am already encountering instances in which I am eating my words. No, I have not yet purchased a mini van (nor will I ever, Lynn) but I have found myself doing things I thought I would never do. For example, while I swore I would never let this happen, I have officially lost all ability to discern if Barrett is cute. Of course, I believe him to be one of the cutest babies to have ever been created by two people of average appearance but that’s the thing … I can no longer decide if Barrett is indeed adorable or if we just think so because our conscience is clouded. This, for me, is quite a dilemma because I have been around strangers who believe their babes to be breathtaking when in all reality, the baby takes your breath away because they are perhaps the strangest looking suckling you’ve ever seen. After witnessing such instances, I vowed to Adam that I would never be guilty of having an inflated view of our little one’s looks. So now, when strangers ooo, ah, and ogle over Barrett, I request their honesty as to whether or not they think he is cute or if they are just saying that because that’s what we’ve been trained to say about babies. For now, I will confidently state that Barrett is beautiful and if I hear anything to the contrary, I will report back.
Barrett and I keep busy with trips to HyVee, Target and setting playdates with all of the other springtime arrivals. He generally sleeps from bedtime to 5 am and is up for a feeding and then down for another hour and half. While some days (usually Mondays) still get me a little crazed, most of the time, life is lovely. While I don’t blog as often as I’d like, I’m spending more time doing and less time writing about it:).
