I don't think the perfect mom would be having a meltdown right now about her daughter not sleeping. She would just rock the sad child back to sleep with a lullaby. Her three year old child would obediently go to bed at eight and also take an early afternoon nap. If you guys don't start sleeping soon I don't know what will happen, but it won't be good.
I was talking to my sister the other day about some moms she knows who tell her she will have kids as soon as she isn't afraid of them anymore. They ask her if she realizes "the church" meaning the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints tells you to have children. They remind her that as a working woman, she has no idea what it is like to be busy and tired. My sister questioned why all these women were so unhappy with their lives. Their husbands- their children.
I love my children so much, but I feel like having children is the hardest thing I've ever done. I never thought I would just wish for it to be easy- to stop feel like I am fighting for control of my own sanity.
After Danielle was born I found myself crying a lot. For hours a day I would sit there and cry after the baby went to sleep or when she was awake. Almost all the time when I was alone. I felt like all my worst fears had come true. I couldn't breastfeed. I was so tired. I wasn't going to work. I was fat. She wouldn't stop screaming at me. She had reflux and seemed to always be angry with me. She didn't let me feed her rice cereal. She kept throwing up on me. I remember wondering if I would always feel so empty inside. I hated all the moms that told me how easy having just one child was. then I moved to a place where some of the moms at church had sick kids.
I feel like those sick children changed how I felt about motherhood. I would be terrified if my child died. Maybe I started coming out of the tunnel of sadness with the help of some great anti-depressants. I never bonded with my baby. I knew I wouldn't do anything to hurt her and would take care of her needs, but it was hard to talk to moms about how great it was to have children. I never wanted to admit that I wished I was dead but I didn't want to do anything about it because that would make me an irresponsible mother. I'm glad I got professional help to start to feel like I was alive again.
My first labor was terrible. I wanted to have another baby. To prove to myself that I could do it. People started telling me that two wasn't hard, three was.
Having baby Mark changed everything. I've never been so tired. Staying up for a few months in a row will really make you crazy I'm convinced. Mark tried to stay up all night and sleep during the day. But he took a bottle for a few weeks while I tried to figure the breastfeeding/pumping thing out and then he switched back to breastfeeding. He let me feed him. He LOVED me. I immediately felt like I loved this baby more than anything, in an intense way I thought must be a hormone released in new mothers and maybe more in breastfeeding new mothers. I have no idea what it was, but it made me feel terrible. Because I didn't have it the first time. I just felt lost. I filled my emptiness up with cute little dresses and matching shoes. This time was different. I was connected to Mark but still sad. I never anticipated waking up with children and forgetting who I was. What I loved to do. When Mark was a week old I sat in his room in the middle of the night and cried about how easy he seemed. Then I cried because I had grown to love Danielle but wondered if she would ever forgive me for not loving her immediately.
I'm different now. But I'm also still the same. I've had an easier time deciding the commit to the care of my children than I've had feeling alive. I tried not to blame my religion for telling me motherhood is a holy calling. I knew I shouldn't blame my children. I tried not to blame my husband for being busy and emotionally exhausted with school. I tried not to blame my mom for not coming to help since she was sick. I tried not to blame the church ladies for saying they would love to help but never doing anything. Except Paula.
I'm grateful for my friends. I think they saved my life. After Mark was born I remember feeling horrible and having Melissa from the med school come over and watch the kids while I slept. She cleaned my whole house. Sarah watched the kids and I went to the dentist. Melissa came again when I was sick with a breast infection. Holly came and John and I went on a date to the grocery store. Best date ever. Melissa watched them again. I have no idea how she can clean any house in 30 minutes and keep the children happy, but those kind of skills might be why she's in medical school. Then Carlie came and watched the kids and I went to the gym and took a nap every day for a week. At the end she probably felt like dying but I felt like I was a person again.
I feel really sad about how hard it is to have depression after having kids. To feel like you are lost somewhere in a sea of what you wanted your life to be and what other people say. When I became a mother I didn't understand the lost feelings at the beginning of the day, or the anger I suddenly had. Taking anti-depressants made it possible for me to love my daughter and start to feel alive again.
I know in the end I will make it though unbroken. I will know who I am and love my children. I will be a different person. I don't know if I will always live under the cloud of depression that I've carried since my first pregnancy. I don't know if I will ever weigh what I did before I had Danielle (Oh wait- yes I do and I will.) I didn't know what to tell my sister when talked about those mothers who hurt her feelings. I don't always know if I will be able to fit in to my religion as a mother who doesn't feel that holy or fulfilled. But I know that I will always be a mom and I will never give up on them. I know that even if I am broken inside and lost, I can pick up the pieces and start over again.
I love the people who helped me,
including my little kiddos.
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