Let me preface. I love my life. I love my boys. I feel super blessed and I wouldn't change a bit of my little slice of world...minus the loss of my girls.
...but...
Wow. What a reality check life has been the past few weeks. Asher is doing awesome with Greyson. There's very little jealousy and the little that there is, is actually directed towards Steve. Which is surprising to me. And Greyson, is a dream child. He has some fussy periods and lately has been gassy, so at times can be really fussy...but for the most part, he's super easy. And he usually only wakes up once, maybe twice a night.
But there are things that are stressing me. Things that I'm blowing up about. Little things. I feel stretched. I feel needed...all. the. time. I feel like I have NO time to myself. Which in saying that I feel incredibly selfish. But that's how I feel so I'm embracing it. I feel as if someone's always touching me or sucking from me, rubbing their snot on me, hitting me, scratching me...I feel like if I'm not holding or reading to or washing or rocking or comforting a wee boy, I'm cleaning the house or folding laundry or washing laundry or making dinner or cleaning up dinner or breakfast or lunch...My day so far was waking with a 3 week old fussing, so I nursed him, then changed him. I undressed and dressed him and then Asher came running up to 'help' and I had to watch him as well and scold him for not listening to my continued attempts to ask him to stop twirling in the curtains, and then I got about 1 minute when Asher ran downstairs to take Greyson into the bathroom so I could go...then it was back into Asher's room, with baby, to get clothes out for Asher. Then downstairs to nurse baby again and then snuggle with Asher and take him to the potty and then dress Asher and quick log onto Facebook to check on a friend who had surgery last night. Then I nursed Greyson again, put drops in his eyes and nursed him again, during that time Asher and Steve left to go sledding. Once Greyson fell asleep, I was able to quick eat breakfast myself and then I started to pick up the living room which has been destroyed for the past week. That lasted about 30 minutes when Greyson woke and I nursed him again. I then continued cleaning and then made lunch for Asher. Asher got home, I took him to the potty, gave him lunch and then took him upstairs to put him down for his nap. In which he decided to 'snuggle with Mama's big squishy belly' by pushing into me as hard as he could. Though I tried to tell him to stop, he chose differently and I blew. Why? Because I feel as if I'm going crazy. I put him to bed, which he chose not to be in, and then I went downstairs to nurse Greyson. When I was done with that I went back upstairs to put Asher back down when he decided to yell, scream and bang the walls at me. I blew, slammed the door and took a shower. Unfortunately the shower couldn't even relax me because my bathroom shares a wall with Asher's room so I heard him screaming and pounding the walls the entire time. When I got out of the shower, I went back in to his room, took him to the potty and somehow managed to get him back into bed with little fighting. Now I'm back downstairs in semi-quiet as Steve rocks Greyson giving me a little piece of time. So for 6 straight hours so far today, I have been going non-stop. From household duties to caring for a newborn and nurturing and disciplining a toddler.
And the hardest part? The same time that I feel exhausted and overwhelmed and stressed, I feel guilty. Guilty that I have two beautiful and healthy living children while friends of mine have nothing but ashes and graves. Guilt that I wished and dreamed for my children and now these thoughts and feelings make me feel ungrateful.
I know it has a lot to do with emotions and life changes and hormonal changes...but it's so hard. Hard to find the strength to deal with an, at times, unruly toddler. Hard to find the few brief moments of the day to enjoy silence and no one touching me...needing me. Hard to not get angry with a little boy who's testing me at every turn. Hard to enjoy each moment when all I want is 10 minutes to myself...again, a pang of guilt.
Wow. Motherhood is hard. I know this is the hard part. The needy part. I also know that soon, I will be missing these moments. I'll miss how much my boys need me. How much they come to me and want me to be close. Some days it's just so hard. I hate not enjoying every moment with my children. It makes me feel like a failure or ungrateful. As if I was given these two amazing blessings and I'm not embracing this gift with every ounce that I have.
I know with every thing I have that this is all a lie. I know that my children mean every thing to me. And I also know that it's hard and there will always be times where I feel like a failure, but man is it hard. It's hard feeling like a failure or that you're ungrateful.
Motherhood has been the most fulfilling wonderful journey I've ever known. But with it, it's also been the most guilt ridden. I think I need to find a balance. A balance between giving my children every thing I have, while at the same time, remembering that I need quiet, alone time as well. Which is hard when you demand nurse, but in a few months, when things taper off...things will normalize a little bit more. I just have to remember that quote I hate so much... 'this too shall pass'...
My dear boys, I love you so much. You are my world. I love snuggling and playing with you. I love both teaching you and learning from you. You both are wonderful and bring me so much joy and happiness. Please remember this when I blow up over little things. I'm sorry I yell some times. Never doubt my love for you.
your Mama.
On February 2, 2011...Groundhogs Day...and during the 2011 'blizzard', our son was born into the world screaming! And what a sound it was. As I looked up at Steve, I saw his tears streaming down. And what a sight that was! Tears of joy, instead of tears of pain.
It was a long, cytotec and pitocin laden labor and from 4m - 11:30am I had hard contractions lasting 40-60 seconds coming every minute 1/2 - two minutes...but I can't complain. I had breaks and those nearly 2 minutes of quiet were bliss...but after 7 1/2 hours of hard contractions, I was exhausted and when it came time to push, I had a hard time finding the energy. But I found it...somewhere. And after 20 minutes of pushing, Greyson Levi was born. All 9 pounds, 22 inches of him.
He's perfect. Beautiful and strong. It's crazy really. After four short hours of easy peasy labor, Asher was born a spitfire. From the get go, he was a spitfire. He was a wonderful baby. An easy baby. But he was a spitfire. After eighteen hours of hard labor with Greyson, he was born this little peaceful, quiet, sleepy baby. He has wakeful times, but on most days, he'll only be awake for an hour...if we're lucky, maybe two...every day. He sleeps and eats and sleeps and poops and sleeps and sleeps and sleeps.
Greyson has a strong look. He looks dignified. He's perfect. Steve and I kept wondering who he looks like. He of course looks like his big brother in parts, but there's something about him that we couldn't pinpoint. His nose, his lips, his cheeks and the long wrinkle below his eyes and above his cheeks. Who's are those? Where did they come from? And then a friend of mine commented on my facebook page on how much he looks like Jorai. WOW! How right she was! He's a spitting image of his big sister. How cool is that?!?! I love it!
Asher has been wonderful. Seriously wonderful. There's been no jealousy issues. I thought we'd have major issues with breastfeeding but the first time I sat down to nurse Greyson, Asher looked at me, looked down at Greyson and said 'Mama! Baby Greyson nursing!'. Every time the baby cries Asher says 'Mama, nurse Greyson'. Asher's super protective of his little brother. I love it. He loves to 'help' me change Greyson, dress and wash him. He loves to 'snuggle baby' and kiss him and he lays belly down and places his head upon Greyson's belly. It's so cute. I love it. In fact yesterday as Asher was 'snuggling with Mama's BIG smooshy belly'...yeah that felt good...he said 'Baby Greyson downstairs, Mama stomach empty...Another baby...Baby Judah!'. So yeah, Asher loves his baby brother so much, after only a week, he wants another...too bad it's NOT going to happen! HA!
So anyway, I'm please to welcome our new son Greyson Levi. And so happy to say that every thing is going surprisingly well! Asher is the doting big brother and I'm so proud of him, And Greyson is wonderful. I'm in love with my family. And blissfully joyful.
