When I first had Noah, I just wasn't ready for him to come. Are you ever ready to go from two to three? Probably not. But I really wasn't physically and emotionally ready for him to enter the world a week and a half before his due date. (Although, mother's intuition for the win. I was anxious all along that he was going to come early. Not premature early, thank God, but just early. Like I was. Like my brothers were. But I clung fast and hard and desperately to all those statistics saying first time moms usually go past their due date.)
Then here he was, plain as day. He needed me every moment and I needed to be with him every moment. I physically missed being pregnant, though, so much so that I cried about it often. I missed his kicks and rolls and hiccups. I missed the fact that we were inseperable. For the first 2-3 months of his life, it was almost painful not to be in the same room as him. I would have extreme anxiety when people took him from my arms.
Now, I miss pregnancy for different reasons. Shopping for maternity clothes is much more fun than shopping for post-partum clothes. Pregnancy aches and pains were nothing compared to the postpartum aches and pains I'm still struggling with. But more than anything? Being pregnant with that first baby is magical, even if you are fixing up a P.O.S. house and working two jobs. It's all of the anticipation and excitement and dreams, and none of the reality of how your life is going to change forever-- in good ways and bad!
I'm grateful every day that I had a healthy pregnancy with Noah. I've seen loss personally and professionally and it never gets easier. In fact, now that I know this kind of love, the thought of loss is even harder to wrap my head around, and impossible to wrap my heart around.
I have a health baby. This is a miracle. If thrush and reflux and hearing impairment and lip and tongue ties are our biggest issues, well that's just fine by me.
But you know what makes me feel like an awful mom? My kid doesn't nap. It sounds so silly when I type it out, but it's the source of extreme anxiety on my end.
Nothing. NOTHING. Has brought out my neuroses and anxiety and selfishness and control issues like motherhood has. I mean, I love it. I truly do love this little human. He is such a delight and I desperately want the best for him. I want him to be happy and healthy. And when he's not, it crushes me.
Why can't I provide the best for him? Why can't I get him to sleep when he's telling me he's tired? Does this ever get easier?