The Less Fun Stuff

I realize that my constant picture posting and happy-go-lucky, "yay, Benjamin is here!" posting makes it sound like life is peachy keen in Larsonland these days.  And yes, there are no real words (hence my unending verbiage to try) that could describe how awesome it is to simply look at my son, look at my husband, and then realize that we created this wonderful little person together out of the tremendous love we have for each other.  I mean, that's big stuff to take in!  And what a gift it is. 

But there is also the non-peachy side to life these days.... and I sometimes wonder how new moms and dads make it through!  It's as though God didn't think it was enough to simply adjust to having a new life around, making your twosome into a threesome, but He wanted to make sure you could juggle about 19 other things at the same time.  Nevermind that life is still whirling on all around us (it is??)! 

So, to balance out my usually chipper posts, here are some of the things we've also been dealing with lately (in addition to all the adorable looks, the sweet kisses, the cute outfits, and all the LOVE from Benjamin):

• This one's obvious: no sleep.  Matt (you know, not having boobs), gets to sleep through much of the night only getting up briefly during the feedings if I need him for something, but I, on the other hand, am practically a walking zombie.  I treasure the naps I can get (I think I'm up to 2 since BW's been born!!).  I'm not even sure if I make sense when I talk to Matt anymore.
• Crying. And no, not just Benjamin's. I think I've cried more in the past week than I have in the past year.  There's so much constantly weighing on my mind, and add that to the point above, and you've basically got a mom on the verge of tears at any moment.  
• Loss of contact with the rest of the world (temporarily).  We'd been preparing ourselves for not getting to see our friends quite as much right away and missing out on fun events taking place, but it's still hard to remember and realize that life keeps going on without you - fun times and all (wait, I thought we were the fun-makers?!?).  And let's be honest, I miss talking to people, but I also have 21 voicemails currently awaiting my listening (yes, 21 - I am a BAD person!), and that is just too much for me right now!  Frankly, I have a hard enough time trying to jot down how the last feeding went and wait, did I brush my teeth today?  Answering the phone is tough enough, and answering the voicemails and emails I have seems almost impossible right now.
• Loss of control.  This is a tough one for me (and the reason I hate flying so much).  But I've learned, quickly, that there is no control to be had at this point in motherhood.  I want so badly to be the best mom possible, to breastfeed perfectly, to give BW exactly what he needs when he needs it, to know that I'm not scarring him for life.  But there's just no way I can meet all of my own expectations when almost everything is out of my hands.  This lack of control is uncomfortable for me.  Add this to the no sleep and crying things... and you can see that I'm kind of a mess!
• Pain.  Yep, five days out and I'm still in a lot of pain.  Pain from unsuccessful laboring, pain from the c-section, pain from my body trying to adjust, pain from breastfeeding... Again, with the sleep, crying, and loss of control, pain is just icing on the cake!
• Fear.  I've realized that I have a lot of fears in this new role as a mom.  Am I making good decisions?  Am I doing what's best for BW?  How on earth will I do this without Matt when he goes back to work? (And for another few days: Will he be sick??) After fighting with BW for about an hour at 3am, I gave up trying to force something on him (my boob, which he clearly wanted absolutely nothing to do with) that I wanted so badly to happen and realized that he just needed to eat.  Period.  Yet giving him formula somehow made me feel like such a failure, like my body had failed me once again.  Fear crept in telling me that I wasn't doing all that I could, and that the pacifier and bottles we'd had to use to this point to keep weight on him had turned him against me (and my boobs).  And so I wept.  Yep, 3am with baby sucking on a bottle of formula in arm, and I just cried and cried.  Is formula the worst thing in the world?  Absolutely not.  I think it just represented so many other things in that moment (see: loss of control), and somehow these fears are just things I have to come to terms with.  (side note: I had a surgery about ten years ago that left me somewhat in the dark as to whether or not I'd be able to breastfeed.  I'm trying to remember that it's out of my hands, but I'm still doing everything I can to make it happen if my body will cooperate)  I know I'm trying my hardest, and that's all I can do.
• No energy.  This is probably obvious given everything I've mentioned above.  But still, it's tough when there's so much going on and that needs to be done.

Ok, thank you for the free therapy blogger-land.   We have been blessed with so many wonderful things, so I certainly don't want to overshadow the fact that we are happy and spoiled by the amazing friends and family around us.  Friends of ours are bringing us dinners (wow, what a lifesaver!), people are checking in on me and my sanity regularly, and we know there are many people supporting us through this new journey.  Plus, BW has many many friends on the way this year, so we are grateful for that too.  :)  I'm also extremely grateful for Matt who puts up with my crazy hormonal self these days and takes care of all the little things that I just don't seem to have the energy to do.  He's keeping me fed (and trying to keep me rested, but this is a tough chore), and he's been doing a tremendous job as a new father.  I know BW is a lucky, lucky kiddo.

To preserve a little sanity, we went to my favorite place today: Target.  There's just something about roaming those aisles (and usually walking away with way more than the five things that were originally on your list... I mean, I promise we went there for toilet paper yet wound up with half a cart full of things we apparently needed).  BW was a trooper!