Reality
When I was pregnant with Jorai I couldn't wait to be a mama. I couldn't wait to meet this child growing within me...to hear her cries and touch her skin...just to know her. Of course I worried about if I would be a good mama and if I could really do it. All of it. The mentoring and teaching...but most of all, I worried about the patience. Did I really have the patience to be the best parent I could be. I really worried about it. I only wanted to give the best to my children and I never wanted to lose my cool with them.
And then we lost her. For awhile, I even lost the dream of her, of children in general. I couldn't understand why and how God could have taken my sweet child from me and often wondered if He was saving her from hurt...maybe from me...or just from the world. I didn't and still don't know why things happened as they did, but even as I was pregnant with Asher, there was a part of me that thought God would take this child from me as well. I wanted to be wrong, but there was always something pulling at me...nagging at me.
When I let me mind wander to the possibility that Asher could actually be born, alive and healthy, I felt as if I could handle anything. That I would be the best mama to him. That my patience would be shake proof. I would be super mama. I mean, I missed the opportunity to raise and know Jorai, so I would pour into Asher like nothing else. It would be amazing. And most days, I feel pretty good about my parenting. I'm pretty patient. I feel as if I'm doing my best to teach him and raise him well.
And then a day like today comes when I seriously want to place him in the basement and run upstairs to a loud, steamy shower to escape his constant crying and hitting and general grumpiness...which of course makes me feel like the worst mama of the century. Yesterday after about the 10 millionth time of being slapped, bitten or torn at, I screamed NNNNOOOOO!!!! at the top of my lungs. He shuttered and then the look of shear terror ripped across his face before he, himself started screaming and crying. I scared him. It was the first time I scared him. I felt like crap. The entire day, I couldn't think about anything else and wondered how I had just scarred my child.
What is wrong with me? I should be grateful and full of love and patience for my child....not yell when I'm frustrated or look forward to nap time so I can regain my composure. Where did my confidence go where I knew I could handle all this and knew my patience would be enough? And why is it so easy to loose it? Why is it so easy to become frustrated with someone so innocent and is only learning all your rules?
I'm getting my haircut at noon. It couldn't come at a better time. I need a break. Although I'm sure Asher will wake up in a much better mood...well, one can hope anyway!
The thought of becoming a parent and the reality of it, is so very different. A person just has no idea until they're in the thick of it. And I've only gotten 16 months of it...so I know I have WAY more to learn and experience...but man, what a reality check! What am I in for in 6 months when baby 3.0 comes into our lives? I'm worried. I no longer have the innocent 'things will be lovely' outlook. Reality has set it and I just pray that God gives me the strength to raise both of my living children with all the love, support and patience I have.
And then we lost her. For awhile, I even lost the dream of her, of children in general. I couldn't understand why and how God could have taken my sweet child from me and often wondered if He was saving her from hurt...maybe from me...or just from the world. I didn't and still don't know why things happened as they did, but even as I was pregnant with Asher, there was a part of me that thought God would take this child from me as well. I wanted to be wrong, but there was always something pulling at me...nagging at me.
When I let me mind wander to the possibility that Asher could actually be born, alive and healthy, I felt as if I could handle anything. That I would be the best mama to him. That my patience would be shake proof. I would be super mama. I mean, I missed the opportunity to raise and know Jorai, so I would pour into Asher like nothing else. It would be amazing. And most days, I feel pretty good about my parenting. I'm pretty patient. I feel as if I'm doing my best to teach him and raise him well.
And then a day like today comes when I seriously want to place him in the basement and run upstairs to a loud, steamy shower to escape his constant crying and hitting and general grumpiness...which of course makes me feel like the worst mama of the century. Yesterday after about the 10 millionth time of being slapped, bitten or torn at, I screamed NNNNOOOOO!!!! at the top of my lungs. He shuttered and then the look of shear terror ripped across his face before he, himself started screaming and crying. I scared him. It was the first time I scared him. I felt like crap. The entire day, I couldn't think about anything else and wondered how I had just scarred my child.
What is wrong with me? I should be grateful and full of love and patience for my child....not yell when I'm frustrated or look forward to nap time so I can regain my composure. Where did my confidence go where I knew I could handle all this and knew my patience would be enough? And why is it so easy to loose it? Why is it so easy to become frustrated with someone so innocent and is only learning all your rules?
I'm getting my haircut at noon. It couldn't come at a better time. I need a break. Although I'm sure Asher will wake up in a much better mood...well, one can hope anyway!
The thought of becoming a parent and the reality of it, is so very different. A person just has no idea until they're in the thick of it. And I've only gotten 16 months of it...so I know I have WAY more to learn and experience...but man, what a reality check! What am I in for in 6 months when baby 3.0 comes into our lives? I'm worried. I no longer have the innocent 'things will be lovely' outlook. Reality has set it and I just pray that God gives me the strength to raise both of my living children with all the love, support and patience I have.
Comments
just sending a big old hug your way.
You're a great mama, and God knew what He was doing when He gave you kiddos.
And you're certainly not alone in the screaming-so-loud-you-scared-your-kid club. I'm impressed it took you that long... :)